[Critique Group 2] Hello and Here's my March Submission

[Dawn Suvino]

Hi Folks,

 

Thanks very much for inviting me to join Critique Group 2! I look forward to
sharing my work, getting your feedback, and offering my own comments on the
work that all of you share. Below is my initial submission, which, like many
of the pieces I write these days, was inspired by a conversation I was
having with friends on Facebook a few years ago. See what you think:

 

Saturday, July 22, 2017

New York 6:53 AM

 

Sometime in 1966, when my brother Stephan was about 2 and I was 4, we moved
in with my mother's mother, my Nanny, and her brother, Uncle Stefie. The
house was small but comfortable, located at 80 Manning Avenue in North
Plainfield, NJ. It was a temporary arrangement as my parents were then
looking to buy a house in one of the many agreeable towns situated in
Somerset County, NJ.   

 

Of primary import to my mom was the quality of the school system. My dad,
for his part, was also concerned about property taxes. Together, they made a
good couple. well, at that time, anyway. Why they did not choose to settle
in North Plainfield is a mystery to me except that I think my mother, in her
way, was a bit of a social climber. Put differently, I think she wanted to
build a better life for her kids by moving to a somewhat more affluent town.
They eventually found a beautiful ranch house on a corner lot in Watchung,
NJ. This town was just up the road from North Plainfield but it was slightly
tonier and, in the late sixties, very much on the rise. The schools were
very progressive and the property taxes low thanks to some commercial
properties located at the far end of town. We lived there from 1968 until
1975, when my parents were divorced. So, the irony is that we ended-up back
in North Plainfield at Uncle Stefie's house on Manning Avenue. The even
bigger irony is that I liked living in North Plainfield more than Watchung,
despite the logistical hardships of our having to cram into the tiny house
on Manning Ave. It hadn't been so difficult when we were little kids but, as
teenagers, the challenges were significant.

 

I'm pretty sure the schools in North Plainfield were better than those in
Watchung - well, the high school certainly was. I am proud of the education
I received at NPHS. I'm grateful, too, all these years later, to have
reconnected with so many high school friends here on Facebook.

 

Yesterday, when some of us were talking about the moonwalk, I started
remembering those early days in North Plainfield, when Nanny and I shared a
bedroom - shared a single bed actually. I loved my Nanny and it felt special
to be so close with her. Every morning, she would get up around 6 AM,
wash-up and then toddle into the kitchen to make breakfast. As small as that
house was, the kitchen was huge - the biggest room in the house. This still
seems entirely appropriate to me.   

 

I would sit with Nanny at the kitchen table while she read the paper, drank
her tea and ate a bagel. Usually I ate cereal. Later, I might have scrambled
eggs when my mom came downstairs to fix Daddy's breakfast. My dad worked in
an office but Nanny had to be up and out early to get to the factory where
she worked. Luckily, it was just down the block, so she could walk there in
a matter of minutes. This also meant that I could stop by after school and
give her a hug and a kiss before going home. This was back in the day when
children were permitted to walk freely and independently around their
neighborhoods. 

 

I should clarify that the "factory" where Nanny worked was a small business
where she and two or three other women spent the day making confections that
would be mounted atop special cakes: roses, a bride and groom, Easter bunny,
congratulatory message for an anniversary or graduation. While the workplace
is best described as a "factory", it was really a family-owned, friendly
manufacturing business overtop a storefront on Watchung Avenue. 

 

Sitting at the kitchen table before Nanny left for work, we'd play games,
sing songs and practice reading. Yep, she taught me to read the newspaper
when I was just four years old. One of my favorite games was the "matching
game", which was a kind of predecessor to Sesame streets "one of these
things is not like the other". Our potholders were embroidered with images
of kitchen items like cast iron pans, ladles, serving spoons, etc. Nanny
would select one of the items and then ask me to identify the matching
images. Simple, I know, but it surely stimulated my little brain in positive
ways.

 

After Nanny left for work, I'd watch cartoons in the living room until mom
came downstairs with the baby. I loved my mother and father and baby brother
very much, so the beginning of each new day with them was always something
like a special prize. Once I started kindergarten, the prize got even
"specialer". But no time was ever as special as those early morning hours I
spent with Nanny in the kitchen. 

  



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