Stuck in the Middle

Chapter 1

GROWING UP

I grew up on fifteen acres of land in Southern Charles County, Maryland, in a small town called Pisgah, where the nearest town is twenty miles away.  My parents are both Native American Indians from the Piscataway tribe and were raised in large families.  My father had fourteen siblings and my mother was one of eleven children. 

During my parents’ and grandparents’ generation, the women stayed home to raise the children and attend to the house and the needs of the male, while the men were expected to work outside of the home and support the family financially.  Mom and Dad were strict Catholics so when my mother became pregnant at the young age of sixteen, my father, who was nineteen at the time, was obligated to marry her, which he did in   1953. Because abortion and any type of birth control was not allowed between married couples, my parents continued to have children until there were eleven of us. My mother could not have any more because of health reasons.  A large family was recommended back then because there would be more hands to help with working the land. 

I just happened to be the “lucky one” stuck in the middle of all eleven children.  Our family consisted of eight girls: Marie, Lorraine, Christine, Joann, me (Lavern), Cornette, Darlene, and Elaine; and three boys: Joseph (Joe-Joe), Roosevelt, and Jeffery (Jeff). 

 Since there were eleven of us, my mom gave my oldest sister, Marie, who was also like our second mother, permission to order the rest of us kids around. At the age of eleven I recall I was always being told by Marie to go outside and play. One day while both my parents were away, my brother Joe-Joe, my two older sisters, Christine and Joann and I had just about all of the bossing we would take from Marie, so we got together and decided that we would end this once and for all.  We thought that if we all got together and beat her up that it would be the last time she would think about bossing us around. 

We called Marie out in the yard and told her we wanted to show her something we made in the backyard.  Well, when she got outside we all shouted at her, “We’re tired of you always trying to tell us what to do, why don’t you do it yourself!”  When Marie yelled back that she was going to tell our parents that we wouldn’t obey her, Christine, Joann, Joe-Joe and I chased her around the house and into the wooded area behind our house. 

When Marie didn’t come out of the woods, we went looking for her. After about an hour of searching everywhere for her, we began to worry that maybe she had gotten lost. We finally gave up and decided to go into the house and watch television.  It wasn’t until my parents arrived home later that night that Marie finally came out of her hiding place.  She immediately ran to our parents before they got an opportunity to get out of the car and told them what we had done to her.  We were all punished and sent to bed without dinner that night. 

When I was eleven years old my youngest brother Jeff was born.  My parents had never talked to us about babies and where they came from, so I wasn’t aware of the process of childbirth until my baby brother was about to make his way into the world. I couldn’t understand why my mom was crying out in pain and why Marie was running around the house boiling water and acting panicky. 

Marie ran up to me and told me to hurry down to Ms. Henson’s house—she was the town’s midwife—and inform her that my mother was about to have the baby. I saw how my mother was crying and obviously in a lot of pain: at such a young age I thought it was a matter of life or death.  The only thing I knew about babies was how to feed and change their diapers because I got plenty of practice babysitting my younger sisters and brothers.  I was so excited and scared for my mother that I ran to get help as fast as my little legs would carry me.  It normally took about ten minutes to reach Ms. Henson’s house, but that day I was there and back within five.