A Different Way of Life

By Pam Shriver, Professional Tennis Player

There were several first for me on a splendid Indian summer October day. I’d never been asked to spend a chunk of time with an individual who has know lots of troubles, desperation and dead ends but who also has the spirit and dedication to work for a new life. Basically, I would spend the day with my opposite.

Cheryl Murray is just about my age, has never been married and lives in Baltimore. The comparison ends.

Cheryl used drugs for years, had three kids with two different fathers, was arrested for handgun violations as well as child abuse, occasionally stole to support her drug habit and spent time in city jail.

With the support of many people, Cheryl is climbing back. She wants dearly to be a model citizen who works and supports herself and her children. She wants to be a role model to her kids who are 13, 4 and 3 years old. A long range goal is to own her own house in five years. “Life is o much better today,” she said.

How is this turn-around possible? It starts and ends with Cheryl and in between there are pillars of support. Cheryl prays each day and asks God to help keep her sober and working towards her goals. Cheryl needs this strong spiritual guidance just as she needs the guidance and support of individuals on earth.

Ruth Norman, director of Our Friend’s Place, has given Cheryl a “sense of worth.” Valerie, Cheryl’s sponsor in Narcotics Anonymous, has been a constant source of strength for the past year. With pride Cheryl showed me the colorful key chains that dangle from her purse to mark the milestones of her being drug free. Cheryl’s sister, Pam, and mother, Patricia, also have been instrumental in the transformation. Pam works for Mass Transit and mom, a 52-year-old nurse who is recovering from back surgery, lives with Cheryl and her three children.

Cheryl’s day had begun at 6 a.m., getting her oldest off to school and then accompanying her two youngest, Kellie and Ryan, on a one-hour, two-bus route to St. Jerome’s Head Start Center.

Our day together started when we met at the Center. We walked a few blocks to the bus stop to head toward the market. My first city bus ride and my first market experience with stamps coming up.

I asked so many questions, but Cheryl never got tired of answering them. She was not ashamed of her past, but instead proud of her progress and confident about looking ahead. Cheryl shared the details of her four months in prison. “That’s a place I never want to go back to.”

I asked Cheryl if she’d ever seen a shooting. “Oh, yes. I’ve seen a shooting. In my neighborhood, you’d hear shots all the time,” she confided. “That’s why we moved.”

Growing up in North Carolina, Cheryl lived in a large family where her alcoholic father was abusive toward her mom. They divorced.

Of the two fathers of Cheryl’s kids, one is very responsible and supportive. The father of Kellie and Ryan has held a steady job for over 30 years, pays regular child support and spends time with the children. He is 62 years old. Cheryl receives a $297 monthly AFDC benefit to care for 12-year-old Sherita.

Sherita is a real challenge. There was a rebellious stage when Cheryl became sober and started to enforce some discipline. Her daughter was expelled from school last year for having a knife in her possession. Things seem to be settling down with Sherita, at least for the moment, as she is back in school and communications with mom are better.

After crossing town by bus, which included a transfer, we got the to the market across the street from Clifton Park, where I had played my first tennis tournament and not far from Cheryl’s house.

We spent over an hour picking over produce, reading labels, and looking for the best bargains. “There aren’t many choices for markets,” Cheryl explained.

Once a month she makes a large market run with a few other quick stops. Food stamps covered all the food products, but not the other kitchen and household items.

Without a car, we needed a ride to manage the numerous plastic bags of food. Trying to maneuver on a bus was out of the question. Normally, Cheryl would have used a “hack,” a person who drives others for a fee, but none could be found. By chance and good fortune we ran into a neighborhood priest who took us and our 10 grocery bags to Cheryl’s home.

Once home in Cheryl’s neat, well-kept three-bedroom row-house, I helped her put away groceries. There was a major water leak from upstairs. “It’s been going on almost a week,” Cheryl explained. Water from the only bathroom had soaked the carpets upstairs, the flooring was weak and water was dripping onto the first floor. The landlord had been called but no response yet.

Patricia, Cheryl’s mom, was upstairs standing up with the help of a walker a couple weeks since surgery. This woman had signs of pain, both physical and emotional, but I was struck by her beauty and her strength. While Cheryl and been using drugs and in prison, Patricia had been a mom to Cheryl’s kids. She prays every day for her back to feel better and for good things for her family.

We left Cheryl’s water-logged house, passing the Laundromat she uses, to start our bus trip back across town for lunch with her two youngest kids at the Head Start Center. Normally Cheryl is in a training program for families on welfare, but she had rearranged her schedule to accommodate me today. We cheated by taking a taxi at the bus transfer spot to save time, a luxury Cheryl can’t yet afford.

Once back at St. Jerome’s, we joined about a dozen kids, including Kellie and Ryan, for macaroni and cheese, cornbread and greens. I sat next o Ryan and began to eat with the kids. I don’t hang out much with 3 and 4 year olds, but they seemed happy, normal and of course, adorable.

We went outside to take a few pictures. Cheryl and I each had a kids on our lap while we sang some songs and smiled for the camera. Ryan and Kellie’s father drove up just before 1 p.m. to pick the three up, drop Cheryl off at her computer class and then take the kids for the afternoon.

With discipline, direction and devotion, Cheryl will continue to climb out of the mess she got herself into. She’s taking responsibility for her life and for her children. While she still needs government assistance, she knows she must become and independent and contributing member of society. All day long I was struck by Cheryl’s honesty, drive and strength. She has the motivation and momentum to continue her climb from the despair and desperation of her previous life. It was truly a day to remember – across town.

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