Wiser With Age

Tag: advice

  • Jazz singer, Joan Cartwright, pursues doctorate at 68

    Jazz singer, Joan Cartwright, pursues doctorate at 68


    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Singer Joan Cartwright (Photo: Whitfield Moore & Son Photography)

    Joan Cartwright has spent a good portion of her life traveling around the world singing jazz. Music had been her first love since the age of four when her mother put her in dance school, and her childhood home in Queens, NY was often filled with the sounds of jazz records being played by her father.  

    Now 68, Cartwright lives in West Palm Beach, Fla. where she remains a creative force using many different platforms – from writing books, blogs, and poetry. In March, she taught her first college course in speech communication at Southeastern University. She also heads Women in Jazz South Florida, a non-profit organization she founded to support the success of fellow women jazz musicians, and hosts a weekly radio talk show called “Music Woman.â€

    “Musicians are messengers,†says Cartwright, who calls herself “a communicator†above all else. “Music is about delivering messages. So I don’t see music as necessarily art, but as communication.â€

    Ever since she was in college, she was adamant about combining her love of music and communication. And now she is finishing up her doctorate in marketing at Northcentral University.

    “My passion now is to get my doctorate,†says Cartwright. “I’m working on my dissertation research right now on women in jazz, music publishing and marketing. I have to interview 20 women composers and ask them about their marketing practices.â€

    She says she realized early on that musicians have very poor business skills, and she decided to pursue that topic, because she wants to help them – especially women, because the jazz music industry has long been dominated by men.

    Cartwright herself remembers returning to New York to sing after getting her master’s degree in communication from La Salle University in Philadelphia.

    “New York was a little tougher,†she says about the music industry in the early 80’s. “In Philly, there were five or seven of us jazz singers. In New York, about 30.â€

    She said she would hustle during the day doing odd jobs like word processing and working as a legal secretary, and at night she would sing.

    “I used to be a street musician in Central Park for a while with my boyfriend who was a drummer,†remembers Cartwright. “Sometimes we’d make more money there than in the clubs.â€

    In the 90’s, she got her first contract which allowed her to tour Europe.

    “I met a piano player who became my music arranger, and he produced my first CD in Catania, Italy, called ‘Feeling Good,’†recalls Cartwright.

    “I toured Italy for four years with him, and I sang in Spain, Austria, Germany and England, Holland, France and Switzerland. I met some wonderful musicians and got to see a lot of famous musicians.â€

    When she moved to Florida in 1996, she had collected so many photographs of beautiful places and people all over the world that she decided to take them to the publisher of African American Travel magazine. She ended up writing for them for four years.

    These days, she’s excited to be back recording music with her daughter, and fellow singer, Mimi Johnson, and also plans to keep teaching business courses once she finishes her doctorate in December.

    “I keep doing what I’m doing…and then I’m going to publish “The Best Business Practices for Women Musicians,†because women have to use different strategies than men use,†says Cartwright. “One of my triumphs is that I’ve got a collection of at least six CDs of music with 63 songs from 45 women. So nobody can never say that women don’t write music.â€

    And what is her one piece of life advice that she wishes she could tell her younger self now?

    “Love yourself first,†says Cartwright, adding that she is “blissfully single†after four marriages – she’s even written a poem about it. “Women tend to give away their hearts to men, and men generally take those hearts for granted.â€

  • The secret to romantic relationships from an 81-year-old expert

    The secret to romantic relationships from an 81-year-old expert


    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Dr. Pat Allen

    Dr. Pat Allen has figured out the secret formula to romantic relationships, but it took the end of her rocky first marriage, lots of education, and a few other relationships to find it. Now that she has, she has been happily devoting her life to helping others lead successful relationships for the past four decades.

    At 81, Allen is a licensed marriage, family and child therapist with an office in Newport Beach, California. She has authored several books, gives seminars and classes, one-on-one sessions, and hosts an online radio show every Friday night called, “Empowered Conversation.”

    Basically, she says, it all comes down to women being able to be happy alone, and being willing to share their happiness, while a man needs to feel respected. The more he feels respected, the more he wants to cherish his woman – and thus, the woman feels loved. See here:

    The spunky red head was born to an Irish Catholic family in Chicago but moved to California in 1965, with her four children, when her husband was relocated for work. It was around this time, however, when she started drinking. And it was when she found herself in the hospital after attempting to hurt her husband, that she knew she hit bottom and needed to change her life.

    “I said a prayer that if I could have a moment of sanity, I would serve mankind for the rest of my life – that was in 1968, and I’ve been doing it ever since,†says Allen, now sober for 44 years.

    Her first husband left her and married someone else, but she bounced back and decided to pursue a masters in counseling, instead of art as she originally planned. Today, she’s busier than ever.

    “Tuesdays and Wednesdays I work down in Orange County – I work for another non-profit for addicts,†says Dr. Allen. “I also go to art class on Tuesdays, because I’m still an artist and musician. I play the piano. I know how to balance my life between working and playing.â€

    She says the biggest challenge of her job is to not get emotionally involved with the cases of her clients.

    “I’m a cognitive behavioral therapist who helps communicate what you want and what you don’t want. I keep my ego out of the way,†says Allen. “God tends to work through imperfect people. I believe I’m on this planet to serve other human beings, and in doing so, I benefit.â€

    Through her life and work experience, she says she’s realized the only way you know you love yourself, or anyone else, is through the commitments you’re willing to make and keep.

    “I help people make and keep agreements,†says Allen. “I help them to negotiate.â€

    Her last husband of 18 years died in 2003, but she says she now has a new boyfriend.

    Allen’s advice to the single ladies is to go where you laugh.

    “Men see us not for our physical beauty, but our ability to be happy,†says Allen.

    What advice would she give her younger self with the wisdom she has now?

    “I now know the secret to life,†she says. “Someone to love, something to do, and something to look forward to. If you don’t have a human, get a dog.â€

  • Love Lessons From My Parents

    Love Lessons From My Parents


    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    My all-time favorite couple: Mom and Dad (Courtesy Melissa Braverman)

    Yesterday would have been my late and adored parents 36th wedding anniversary. The date got me to thinking about some of the many lessons I learned from them about finding and sustaining lasting love.

    Love comes along when — and where — you least expect it: My mother was my dad’s secretary, and it was far from love at first sight when they met. Years and two respective divorces later, they began to see one another in a new light.

    Love means taking a risk — and letting go of the past: Mom wasn’t initially convinced that Dad was worth the risk. He, meanwhile, wasn’t too keen on investing himself in a serious, committed relationship. Both of them got past their fears, even though it took a few bumps (and breakups) along the way for them to get to saying “I do.â€

    Love is a job with lifetime benefits — if you’re willing to do the work: Relationships have their ups and downs, and my parents’ relationship was no different. But they never took each other for granted, or stopped paying attention to the important stuff big and small — from taking good care of themselves physically to sending cards for no occasion except to say “I love you.â€

    Love is the best medicine: Whether facing small challenges like the ongoing drama attending their daughter’s love life or great battles like cancer, Mom and Dad always drew strength from one another. I think that’s why, between the two of them, they survived a combined 26 years after being diagnosed with cancer.

    Mom and Dad’s enduring love set the bar pretty high for me when it comes to happily ever after. But that’s okay. I’m ready, willing and able to do the work to make it happen.

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.Melissa Braverman is a writer and award-winning hospitality marketing professional. Her first foray into the blogosphere, Single Gal In The City, garnered critical acclaim and made her a leading voice about dating and relationships. Born and raised in Manhattan, Melissa is currently blogging about life in the Big Apple at www.newyorkcitygal.com. Follow Melissa on Twitter at @MelissaNYCGal.

  • Jay Z’s 6th grade teacher continues to share real-life lessons

    Jay Z’s 6th grade teacher continues to share real-life lessons


    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Author and educator Renee Lowden (Courtesy Renee Lowden)

    Renee Lowden grew up in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn and graduated from James Madison High School. She calls it “quite an experience†to have gone to the same high-achieving school as characters like Bernie Sanders, Carole King, and Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

    However, no matter her educational attainment at the time, she says women didn’t have many career choices in the 1960’s.

    “It was either a teacher, a nurse, or a secretary, or get married,” says Lowden, who ended up going to Long Island University for education and teaching for 30 years. “I told my dad, ‘I could’ve been a doctor!’ My dad replied, ‘but you love teaching!’”

    And that is the absolute truth. Lowden loved teaching so much, that after she officially retired in 1997, Lowden wrote a book called, “You Have to Go to School, You’re the Teacher: 300 Classroom Strategies to Make Your Classroom Easier and More Fun!” – now in its third edition. She says the title came from her father, because it was something he used to tell her jokingly. When her publisher wanted her to change the title, Lowden refused and says she’s glad she did because that’s how she started getting invitations to schools around the country to speak and motivate teachers to not quit the often difficult profession.

    “I began teaching when I was 21 in the Bed-Stuy area of Brooklyn – where Jay Z is from, and I chose to stay there,” says Lowden. “People asked me why do you stay there? And my answer was, ‘How could I not?’ When those kids like you, they love you.”

    She says she was Jay Z’s sixth grade teacher, and that he was super bright.

    “He never smiled, but when he did, he’d light up the room for me,” recalls Lowden vividly. “He was reading at the 12th grade level, and he was very needy, because his father had just left. He was a sweet, quiet kid. He was always standing near me. He was just so sweet and loved words…He told me he used to read the dictionary.”

    The light-hearted Lowden, who describes herself as “a hippie” at that time, says she taught in Bed-Stuy about 15 years, and later then went to teach at another school in the projects of Chelsea, Manhattan.

    “The biggest challenge there was sadly to say a lot of poverty,” says Lowden. “Kids didn’t have glasses. I would buy them glasses sometimes, and they craved attention. Years ago, parents would say if you have problem [with their child], ‘I’ll take care of it.’ Now, they blame the teachers. Now you don’t have the freedom to teach the way you wanted. I was lucky I had freedom, I taught a course in prejudice awareness and sex education – I don’t think I could now.”

    Lowden believes she’s learned more from her students than vice versa. One example was when a girl with cerebral palsy came into her classroom to talk to the class. She told them, “I rather you make fun of me than ignore me.â€

    “She made everyone aware,” says Lowden, and then the next day, the same girl said everyone was saying hello to her.

    Lowden, who now lives in Maryland with her husband of 48 years, says she tried to always use these real-life lessons when she taught her students.

    “One girl told me, ‘I hate you because you raised my consciousness. Now, I have to fight the world,” says Lowden in her spunky manner, adding how she herself had awakened to injustice when she realized while in college that women needed higher averages than men to graduate. “When you become aware, you start fighting, and that I did.”

    As far as what advice she’d tell her younger self with the wisdom she has now in her ’70’s?

    “Never look back and say, ‘I didn’t try,’” says Lowden. “I’ve tried everything from skydiving to scuba diving…I was raised not to be adventurous, and my husband brought that out in me. Go with it! Also…Always thank your teachers.”

  • In My Mother’s Words: The Horribly Terrifying C-word

    In My Mother’s Words: The Horribly Terrifying C-word


    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Belgica with her children the day before surgery.

    On July 27th, the company I now work for had told me they’d call me back shortly with a final offer. I was beyond excited. Moving back to NYC had been my dream for years. It was all finally happening.

    As I waited for the phone call, I was in my kitchen cooking, and my brother called. I had him on speakerphone, and he told me to take him off, which I found odd. He proceeds to make small talk with me and then tells me we have to talk and I should sit. He then tells me, “Mom’s results came back positive…for cancer.â€

    This all started a few months back when my mom starting showing ONE symptom. She’s good about going to the doctor – so she went and got some tests done. In the past, she had shown a similar symptom and everything came back normal, so I didn’t worry.

    When my brother told me, I didn’t really know what to say besides, “Ok…†I work in a business where you deal with tragedy every day. If it’s not a mass shooting, it’s a natural disaster, or war. You learn to not let things sink in, because you don’t have time. You need to crank out a script, and inform everyone else. There’s NO time to feel.

    My brother was very supportive and told me he was going to let me go, but if I needed anything to call him. He’s always the family rock. In serious situations, our (my mom and I) feelings come first. As a matter of fact, when my mom told him her diagnosis his response to her was:

    “Hemos ganado peores batallas.â€

             “We’ve overcome worse battles.â€

    I did ask him why he was the one telling me. He said my mom didn’t have the heart to tell me, so he told her he’d handle it. I hung up the phone and just sat there. I did what my instincts always tell me to do, call my best friend, Valerie. She was at work, and when she answers the phone the idea of saying the words made my voice crack.

    “My mom has cancer.â€

    After I hung up with her, I composed myself and called my mom. She told me she was diagnosed with endometrial cancer, or endometrial adenocarcinoma. Your endometrium is the lining of your uterus. The symptom my mom had was something we women would’ve blamed hormones for, except at her age it’s not.

    My next concern was the fact she was heading home to an empty house. When I told her, she said she had already called my other best friend, Ignacio, who’s like a younger brother, to go to the house. I called him to give him the heads up. He knew she had been getting tests done and had even taken her to one of them. He was a God send that day, more than others, because when my mom pulled up to the house, he was already there. Thankfully, my brother was scheduled for a work trip and was arriving to Miami the next day.

    Of course, during all of this, HR calls and I get my final offer. It’s honestly comical. I didn’t tell them anything at the moment, but I did know the person who was going to be my new boss. I called her and told her. Again, I got nothing short of support and compassion. I was even given the option to work from the Miami offices if need be. Later on, I did tell my new company, and they allowed me to start at a later date to be with my mom.

    In the next three days, I quit my job, sold all my stuff, packed up my car and moved from Atlanta to Miami. My mom’s doctors had moved quickly, so her surgery was scheduled for Monday, August 3rd. She was going to have a radical hysterectomy.

    I had no time to break down and cry, or process. I had to GO. But, had I wanted to, it wouldn’t have happened. My support system in Atlanta was so out of this world that had I tried to collapse, everyone would’ve held me up. Friends who helped me pack, who gave me a “mom†hug when I needed one, who took whatever stress they could off my plate, a friend from Orlando even flew up so I wouldn’t drive down alone. I was humbled.

    I called it the “passing of the baton.†The day she got diagnosed, Ignacio carried the baton until my brother arrived Tuesday. He could only stay until the day before the surgery which is exactly when I arrived to take the baton to the finish line.

    That Sunday, we had brunch together at our favorite Irish pub. All was normal. My mom was strong. Her faith is something that should be examined by NASA, because it’s out of this world. All three of us had an “Alright, let’s do this,†attitude.

    Surgery day came, and again, we were surrounded with support. My best friend, Valerie, took the day off of work. My cousin’s mom, and his aunt, along with our other cousin, also came to the hospital. You know, you’re not really Latino unless you have an overabundance of people and volume at these things.

    Surgery lasted three hours. When the oncologist came out, he gave us the good news. It looked like her surrounding organs were untouched. It was a tough first week of recovery, but my mom did what she always does, she kicked ridiculous ass.

    A week and a half later, her pathology results were in. We got more good news – no further treatment needed. No chemo. No radiation. She even got the ok to fly so I could bring her with me to NYC to finish recovering. Hell, the doctor even said she could have a margarita! Naturally, we celebrated.

    We were so lucky. We ARE so lucky. I don’t even feel like I could ever complain about this speed bump life gave us. I don’t even know if it’s right to call it a speed bump! My mom got diagnosed and cured in a week. Are we forever impacted? Yes. Did we get the good end of the bargain? Absolutely.

    My mom later told me that when the doctor gave her the diagnosis, she didn’t believe him. Then, she said she had a flashback and saw my brother and I when we were small. Even then, she never shed a single tear. She said she knew God was testing her, and he’d get her through. Trust me, I know how unbelievable it is.

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.
    Belgica calling her son on the day she was told no further treatment was required.

    I learned so many things from this experience with my mom. First and foremost, I was reassured and blown away by the rock solid strength my mother has. I’m also glad she’s diligent about going to the doctor. It is SO important! Early detection makes all the difference.

    Secondly, my friends. From the support system in Atlanta, to the my support system in Orlando during my pit stop, to my family (blood and non-blood) in Miami. The friends who showed up to the hospital after working all day. The ones who brought us food. The ones who called. My always dependable “Faithful Four.†My former and current employers. Those who offered to help carry the baton if I had to move to NYC and my mom needed more treatment. All pride in your independence goes out the window in these scenarios, and it was good to know I have an army behind me.

    Most importantly, I learned cancer doesn’t always mean death, but it does mean caution. I hesitated to write about this, because we all kept it personal for a bit. I’m not trying to get on a soapbox, but if you take anything away from this incredibly long post, it’s if your gut tells you something is wrong, go to the doctor! Exhaust all possibilities. That’s what my mom did. That’s why she’s still here.