Life Lessons

The Death of Me

I had to kill myself repeatedly to escape my destiny

“You may die a hundred deaths without a break in the mental turmoil. Or, you may keep your body and die only in the mind. The death of the mind is the birth of wisdom.”–Sri Nisargardatta Maharaj I Am That

I’ve had to kill my persona so often that I am surprised my mind has not shattered into shards like a mirror dropped on the floor. My destiny was to be a drug addict, a crack whore on welfare with six babies from six different daddies living in the projects. I defied that destiny but had to jump over life’s obstacles and challenges continually. Over and over, I had to murder the old me to invent a new me. Let’s follow this winding path of death via my name changes over the years.

Boobie, An Older Sister

Boobie: This is how I started. If you know Boobie (or Boo), then you have known me most of my life.

Boo is the name my mother and grandmother called me from day one. You know me as your sister, your niece, or your cousin. I am family. I am beautiful, contentious, firstborn. A strong-willed leader, the oldest sister of six rambunctious children. I am the cousin playmate running headlong into trouble in the Henry Horner projects. Our neighborhood was so bad my mom sent us to live with our cousins in the projects in the summer. Eventually, we moved in Henry Horner Homes.

“Henry Horner Homes originally consisted of 16 high-rise buildings along with low–rise buildings (920 units) and was completed in 1957. The Henry Horner Homes extension was added in 1961, which included 737 multi–story units. The original buildings consisted of two 15–story buildings and eight 7–story buildings, while the extension consisted of four 14–story buildings and two 8–story buildings all together totaling 1,656 units.” –Henry Horner Homes Wikipedia

Can you imagine 1,656 poor desperate families stuffed together? Many of my childhood experiences would be considered horrifying. The community did not have enough money for food; we did whatever it took to survive. There were naked people in the stairwells: prostitutes making money for their kids food or drugs. There were junkies on the kiddy swings and dope dealers in the elevators. In our projects, sights like that were nothing special. Those events were the daily backdrop of my young life. Only the strong survived in a place like that. The crazy thing was, despite that environment, I still believed most people were good.

Red: The Working Woman

Red: If you call me Red, then you knew me when Public Aid (aka welfare) forced me into a new persona. The antics of the welfare-to-work programs would have torn poor Boo apart. There was grift and crime, and sexual harassment in the programs. The naïve me went down to the welfare office to seek help and, after aptitude testing, instead was placed in a training program. First, welfare enrolled me in Medical Assistant training. The persona Red came out of the programs. The training was to determine if we could successfully collaborate with white people. We needed training because we seldom interacted with white people.

My family could get whatever we needed within a five-block radius of our house. There was no reason to communicate with those who were not like you. Everyone we interacted with was Black. The white store owners did not associate with their customers; their Black employees were our interfaces. My caseworker told me once I graduated, I would work at a doctor’s office for a $500 salary paid by the doctor’s office, plus $90 a week check from the state, $120 in food stamps, and a bus pass. Without training, I would get $280/month and $120 food stamps. The additional $580 a month was the decision driver.

How badly did I want that training? The office was on the West Side, a 2.5-hour trip every weekday. The commute required traveling on two buses and two trains. Red was suspicious, deceptive, sharp, racist, hardworking, and well-liked. The doctors and the other technicians at the business trained me. I was an adaptive person, quickly becoming a star of the welfare-to-work programs. I wanted the knowledge. I graduated from the Medical Assistant program and worked for a year before running off with a pimp to Cleveland.

Tee: Whore In Training

Tee: Tee was who I was when I was training to be a whore. Red was dead. I was reborn as a vicious person I hated. If I heard someone call out “Tee” now, I would run as far and as fast as I could. Hopefully, everyone who knew Tee is dead. We lived dangerously. Murder, addiction, poor health, and prison got them all. I was deceptive, ruthless, heartless, decent, afraid for my life, and a thief during that time. I got away from the pimp by taking money that was not mine and walking away. Walking away from the experience of being under the thumb of another human is indescribable and horrific. During that terrible experience, I confirmed that most people were upright and decent, even those in painful circumstances. Only with the help of an honorable whore, God’s grace, and treachery did I survive. Red died in Cleveland.

Tee was the me that came back from Cleveland. After I returned to Chicago, I knew about the required welfare-to-work training programs from my previous experience, so I asked my caseworker to put me in one. Since I was a “successful graduate” of the medical assistant program, they accepted me into the training. The Certified Laboratory Program (CLA) was a lifesaver after I returned from my wild, wicked, dangerous adventure. The West Side Veterans hospital trained welfare recipients to collect specimens: urine, feces, blood, spital, and wound debris. We collected samples from 5 am to 10 am, took an hour’s lunch, then worked in the classroom for 4 hours with two additional hours learning to run lab tests. The program was grueling and strict. The classwork was torturous.

To graduate, we had to pass a state test. We started with twenty-six classmates: six graduated. I worked as a CLA for a private hospital on the West Side until I reached the top of the CLA pay scale. I realized reaching the top of the pay scale meant there would be no further upward mobility. This would be my level of achievement for the rest of my life. After consulting with various people, I determined that my best path forward was to continue my education and get a college degree.

Toni, The College Student

Toni: Toni was the young woman I constructed to attend college. To be admitted as an older student, the University administrators interviewed me to determine if I stood a chance of graduating. At this time, people who did not continue to college right after high school were damaged goods. As far as they knew, I was a single parent who had delayed college until I woke up one day full of sunshine and hope. I killed Tee. Every trace of Tee, the almost-whore who successfully went to the welfare-to-work program, had to be purged for ‘Toni’ to be accepted into college. A favorite movie of mine was the Sound of Music. I went into the interview with the attitude of the Julie Andrews character Maria. The university could never suspect what my life had been, or they would not have allowed me into the university.

I graduated with an engineering degree and took a job at a top aerospace company. It turned out I was a natural leader. My boss assigned a team to me within six months of joining the company.

TC, Corporate Bitch

TC: If you know me by TC, then you know the corporate me. I designed TC to gain entry into the corporate upper management levels. In my mind, it wasn’t selling out; it was adapting to my environment. Toni was getting her ass-kicked by office politics. When I changed jobs, taking over a failing campus, I built TC as a facade. TC thrived during my work years. She played the games needed to reach the halls of power. TC was a sharp, well-dressed, high-heeled executive who was intelligent, ruthless, driven. A cold-blooded leader willing to work herself and others sick for the company — a manager agreeable to do what needed to be done.

TC was the only persona deliberately constructed. The politics of being a Black woman with power amid old white men was daunting. She was the combination of all my life experiences. A natural leader (Boo), she could make tough decisions quickly (Boo, Red). She was technically excellent (Toni) and a superb organizer (Red). Able to be ruthless when necessary(Tee) and recognize treachery quickly (Tee and Red).

Her ability to understand charts and data came from Tee’s laboratory experience. Old white men did not bother her because, well…doctors are the ultimate old white men (Red). TC was born in the middle of my career. Toni, the real me, had to be protected. Instead, the cool bitch (TC) came alive for all to see.

Who am I now?

Who am I now? I’m the integrated TC and Toni. The most exciting thing about TC is that she is still here. The reason is that as life played out around me, I found ways to allow TC to be Toni. For example, my women’s group at church had an excellent leader. I didn’t need to be TC there as I was a follower, but I needed TC’s ability to get things done, combined with Toni’s natural kindness. It helped that while being TC, I left corporate for five years. I was still TC, but I was my own boss. The interlude allowed me to integrate a number of my personality traits into the person I am now.

My friends and family either call me Toni or TC. My brothers and sisters are the only ones who call me Boo. I will always be Boo to them. I have never stopped believing people are good, that given a chance, most will try to be decent. I look back at my life and who I have been. I wonder if I could have taken a different path. I don’t think so. The way I took was the one open to me. Decisions, good and bad, have led to this life, to my children and my spouse.

Yes, it was hard turning from one person into another. One mind would die so I could grow. I would not change my direction for anything because I would not bear to lose any of them. All of them were me. My death opened a door to my success.

Toni Crowe retired as the Vice President of Operations to pursue her dream of being a writer. Toni has written six books, two of which won the 2019 Reader’s Choice Gold Awards. Her bestselling business book, “Bullets and Bosses Don’t Have Friends: How Do You Manage A Man Sitting With His Dick in His Hand?” was one of the winners. Her first book, “Never a $7 Whore” was the other.

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