My Tribe Of Origin

Mom, Dad, me and my brother.

I grew up in a tribe. The nucleus of my tribe was my father and mother and brother but it extended far beyond the four of us.

Mom was one of seven children and Dad one of five. This tribe I was born into included their siblings, their spouses and their children. Being Greek, that also meant the tribe extended to include the cousins of our cousins as well as close friends of my parents.

Imagine a less exaggerated version of My Big Fat Greek Wedding and you have a typical gathering of the tribe. Lots of food, music, dancing, laughter, people talking over each other and a love so strong you could almost see it in the air.

According to the definition Seth Godin uses in his seminal book, Tribes, "A tribe is a group of people connected to one another, connected to a leader, and connected to an idea."

Our connection was our Greek blood lines with roots in the villages of Apidia and Kalamata in the Peloponnese region of Greece and to Crete -  as well as a desire on the part of our immigrant grandparents to keep our ancestral culture strong and alive. 

Seth Godin's definition continues:  " A group needs only two things to be a tribe: a shared interest and a way to communicate."

When we were young it was easy to communicate. With the exception of one of my mother's brothers, both sides of my tribe lived between Brooklyn and Queens. Family gatherings were not limited to Christmas and Easter, to weddings, christenings and funerals, but were every day occurrences. Someone was in the neighborhood, they stopped by - no appointment or “play date” necessary. Last minute phone calls to see what we were up to and if we could come over for dinner were welcomed and not seen as an intrusion. 

Community and the idea of tribes were not trendy words reserved for marketing circles with the underlying intention of how we will make money. They were organic at a time, no one used that word to describe customer growth or the kind of vegetables they bought. 

It was just about family. 

The belief of my tribe was that in the end, there is no substitution for the connection of family - those people who get who you are with just a look in your eyes, who tell you what they think when you are not asking, and who will love you and stand by you no matter how many mistakes you make.

That was then and this is now. Lives take flight. People move in different directions. Our families take different forms. Stuff happens. The tribe splinters.

There was a time during my teenage and young adult years when I was okay with that. I wanted to get as far from my core tribe and my Greekness as possible. I was in search of me and I thought that as long as those connections were as strong as they were I was never going to find the person I might be.

Today I cling to them - even as I feel them slipping through my fingers. Today I understand that those connections are the foundation of who I am.

Within the last two weeks, I have lost two aunts. My Aunt Jean was my dad’s youngest sister and the last of his siblings. My Aunt Helen was married to my father’s brother. They were both strong women who loved and respected me and part of the now dwindling “village” of aunts who made their mark on my life.

Aunt Jean holding me at my christening. Aunt Helen looking on.

One of the key tenets of this tribe has always been that no matter how far away our lives get from each other, we all show up to support in these moments. It is not questioned. It just is what our tribe did, what it always did. It was the way we were taught. 

We show up for our parents, our grandparents, for the ancestors that laid the groundwork that took us to today, for each other and for ourselves. The gathering of the "tribe" in their honor reinforces the values they stressed - of family bonds, community, and unconditional love.

It’s been a tough couple of weeks. Yet through it all I found solace in the faces of my extended family who all showed up to pay their respects. Amidst  the hugs, the faded photographs of a world that didn’t include cell phones and computers, the sharing of memories and recollections of moments I had forgotten I felt a sense of being home. I was with my “people”, my original tribe. The ones that remember stories about me or my father or my mother that I don’t. The ones who look at me and still see the young girl who lives inside.

I couldn’t begin to count how many other ‘tribes’ I have been a part of to date. But that tribe - my original tribe is the one that no matter how far away I might get from it, I am always welcomed and always loved.

In the death of my two aunts I’ve experienced so much sadness, it’s difficult to get out from under. The only way I know is to focus on the gratitude I have - for the richness that each contributed to my life and for the “tribe” I was raised as part of that they helped to create. 

The tribe has splintered along the way,  no doubt, but its roots stand strong. They are at the core of who I am today. For that I am forever grateful.

RIP Aunt Jean and Aunt Helen. May your memory be eternal.

Surprised? Not Me!

It's been quite a week in the headlines. One hardly knows where to start. The Greek Government is about to collapse. The markets reaction is down then up then down and up again. One can hardly keep track. Justin Bieber might be a father. Kim Kardashian breaks a new world record for most lavish wedding and quickest divorce. My new iPhone's battery has a below par battery life. And then there is my personal favorite, Herman Cain's supposed issues with sexual harassment in the 90's. It's times like this that I am so glad I don't work for a news channel anymore and have to live with the fact I made money off this stuff.

Now I don't often smear (ooh! did I use the word smear?) this blog with discussions about our political leaders or would be leaders but sometimes I just can't help myself. And this is one of those times.

You know what I'm getting to. Herman Cain and the alleged sexual harassment claims.

What surprises me most about this whole thing is that anyone is surprised. This story line is worn.  Politicians of all party persuasion, propping themselves up on camera as holier than thou, church going, family men, claiming to be better than us, when in truth they are as flawed as everyone else. Correction. More flawed. You have to be to live in the delusion that your past is not going to meet your present. Haven't they heard about the Internet and 24/7 cable news?

Now, these are still "allegations." But if I were a betting woman I would say there was truth behind it.

Reason #1.  Any woman who has had an extended stay in the corporate world will tell you that sexual harassment and discrimination still existed in the 90's as much as it did in the "Mad Men" era. The truth is     as much as we don't want to believe it and as  many will try to convince you otherwise, it still does. The biggest difference from what went on years ago and today is that then it was overt and today it is covert.

Reason #2.  Take a look at what Herman Cain stands for. If it's anything, this is not a man who respects women's rights. He doesn't believe in affirmative action, insisting we are beyond that. He doesn't think a woman has a right to make decisions involving her body, even if it was life or death. Unless of course, it is his daughter or granddaughter. In that case they can break the new laws he wants to invoke. But only if they have the money to fund it. And if they don't it's no one's fault but their own.

Reason #3. No story happens out of nowhere. We still don't know all the details, but even if it is only a shred, there is some truth to this.

Reason #4. I'm a big believer it is not always the action itself that is damning, it is how you react. And Herman Cain is reacting as if he has something to hide. His recollection changes from sound bite to sound bite as he points fingers one minute at the "liberal mainstream media", the next at his buddy, Rick Perry.

The big question is not who leaked the story, it's what is the story?  And like my novel, the mystery is why is everyone so reluctant to tell it? 


Hint: We are only reluctant when we don't want the real truth known.

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