Wiser With Age

Tag: Wiser With Age

  • 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€

  • In My Mother’s Words: Being multicultural

    In My Mother’s Words: Being multicultural


    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.

    Growing up in Miami is enough of a cultural experience. Spanish is the main language, and any kid who went to school with you and didn’t speak the language got confusing looks. There’s not an overabundance of Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts, because there are ventanitas for you to get your cafecito at. You turn on the radio, and it’s a toss up of whether or not you’ll hear the Spanish version of the latest Shakira song or the English one. Of course, the Spanish version of EVERYTHING is usually better.

    Despite being half-Cuban, I was, and will always be, viewed as different in Miami, because it is a predominantly Cuban city. Different was sometimes good and sometimes bad, but for the most part I can’t complain. The biggest difference has been, and still is, living outside of Miami. The problem is, I also can’t handle living in Miami anymore. I’m basically stuck between two worlds.

    It makes me think of my mom who feels the same way about living in the U.S. vs. living in Honduras. She always tells me:

    “Es qué yo no soy de aquí, pero ya tampoco soy de allá.â€

              I’m not from here, but I’m also not from over there anymore.

    When she goes home, she no longer relates to the majority of her family on many things, particularly social issues. She’s considered the “liberal†one. Which is funny, because anyone who knows her HERE knows she’s not liberal…at all. She’s actually just a religious woman who really tries not to judge.

    She doesn’t really speak English, but the few words she does use daily slip out when she’s talking to my Honduran grandmother, like “appointment†or “I know.†She doesn’t enjoy the taste of American coffee, she says it’s watered down. She, too, is constantly juggling two worlds.

    I grew up in a Spanish-only home watching “Carusel†on Univision and listening to rancheras and boleros. I grew up watching Primer Impacto and Cristina, not the English network evening news or Oprah. When you leave that Miami bubble, and enter the true U.S., you’re kinda left lost in this limbo that no one else, for the most part, really gets. We each have our own culture at home, of course, but besides language, add the mix of growing up in what I call “Democratic Cuba” and it’s a whole other world.

    That’s why on days it gets to me more than others, I just call my mom or Miami friends. They ALWAYS get it. Besides, there’s a wonderful reassurance in your mom understanding you, even though you may sometimes have to Google translate some words to better express to her how you feel.

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in New York City. She is originally from Miami, FL and had the great fortune of being raised by the sassiest, spunkiest, wisest, most hysterical Honduran woman in the world. Victoria’s mother, Bélgica, is 60-years-old, resides in Little Havana (Miami) and enjoys a good margarita accompanied by a heartrending ranchera. Victoria blogs about her mom’s funny and wise sayings on, “In My Mother’s Words.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€

  • In My Mother’s Words: Loving someone who isn’t yours

    In My Mother’s Words: Loving someone who isn’t yours


     

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.

    I was 16-years-old and chatting with my aunt, and my mom, one day after school. My aunt was going to be a grandmother for the FIFTH time. All of a sudden, she looks at me and says, “I’ve been talking to Karen (daughter-in-law), and we think you should be the baby’s godmother.â€

    I was FLOORED. First off, Hondurans do not take this godparent thing lightly. Being asked to become a godmother is being asked to go up to bat if, God FORBID, something happens to the mother. I looked at my mom in shock and excitedly said yes. It was an honor. Besides, I ADORE his mother – many times more than my cousin, ha!

    My cousin had all daughters at this point, and we didn’t know the sex of the baby. They always waited. But, I remember thinking to myself, “I hope it’s a boy.†I have an older brother, I have always gotten along really well with boys, and I wanted to be the godmother of this boy the family longed for.

    On November 28, 2003, Ronald Diego Benavides Nuñez was born. I had started buying gifts for him long before he arrived. I’d buy neutral colored outfits, but in my heart felt it would be a baby boy, my baby boy.

    I went crazy. Frankly, I still go crazy. I actually refer to him as “my son.” Whenever I go to Honduras, the kid knows he has me wrapped. I tell everyone he’s the one person I can’t stay mad at and just turns me into mush. I cried when he called me “madrina†(godmother) for the first time. Anything Rondi needs/wants/desires from me, Rondi gets. But, as my mother always reminds me:

    “No te enamores de lo ajeno.â€

    (Don’t fall in love with what doesn’t belong to you.)

    It’s such a tough reminder, but she’s so right. He’s not mine. I’m not there day in and day out helping him with his homework. The emotional highs and lows that come with rearing him don’t apply to madrina. I show up every so often, shower him with love but am not there every day.

    There’s a certain amount of guilt that comes with being one of the family members who is blessed enough to live in the United States. Honduras isn’t the safest place, and it’s very poor, but it is beautiful. If he did belong to me, he’d be here. But he doesn’t, so he’s not.

    Anytime I get myself riled up about not being informed that he’s sick, or that he needs something, I remind myself of my mom’s words. He may not be mine completely in theory, but I’m possessive and territorial, so I will say he is until HE tells me otherwise.

    And I think he’s ok with that.

    A woman with short hair wearing red necklace.Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in New York City. She is originally from Miami, FL and had the great fortune of being raised by the sassiest, spunkiest, wisest, most hysterical Honduran woman in the world. Victoria’s mother, Bélgica, is 60-years-old, resides in Little Havana (Miami) and enjoys a good margarita accompanied by a heartrending ranchera. Victoria blogs about her mom’s funny and wise sayings on, “In My Mother’s Words.â€

  • 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.”