The category Who’s Here features pieces written by people I invite to write about how they either embrace or shy away from using candor. “This is Me at Age Seven” is a piece submitted by Lori Pratico. She is a working artist living in South Florida. To see Lori’s work visit http://www.loripratico.com/

Lori Pratico on bicycle on a sidewalk in Philadelphia

Fearless Lori Pratico- age 7

On a typical summer day you could find me standing at the top step of the Philadelphia row home I grew up in, as a crowd of neighborhood kids,gathered around convinced there was no way I would do it. No way I would jump from the 6th step, onto the cracked concrete where they all stood. Of course without hesitation I did, and immediately went seeking the next challenge.I don’t know when it changed, I don’t know when that invincibility went away, and I became afraid of everything. Was it the day my mother called me in from playing, to tell me I was a girl, and much too old to be playing tackle football with the boys? Or was it the time I got lost walking home from a new friend’s house, panicked as it began to get dark, having no idea where I was. Or maybe it was coming home everyday walking up those same steps I had so fearlessly jumped from, and entering a house where everything I did seemed like a disappointment, and no accomplishment ever seemed quite good enough.

I quickly learned to question everything about myself, my body, every choice I made every word I spoke, every emotion I had. I asked the questions silently, always looking for someones approval, and quick to change my opinion when faced with the smallest disapproval.It’s really no surprise, all those questions, all the self-doubt, the constantly trying to please everyone led me to getting married at twenty-one, and divorced at 30. Maybe more of a surprise is that it led me to such a deep depression that I ended up in a state mental institution. It was the first time I had ever been away from my twins, who were three at the time. The day I came home, my daughter stood waiting for me, without saying a word she put both her little hands on either side of my face and just stared in to my eyes. I swear she was looking into my soul, and I still tear up every time I think about it. It was at that moment it all changed again. No doubts when it happened this time. I climbed back up to the top step and began preparing for my next jump.My children are 19 now, and have been my strength, and my inspiration. They jump from top steps everyday. My son has taught me if you speak your mind, if you speak with “raw candor”, just be honest and back up what you say with intelligent thoughts.Those are hard to question, as he would say. My daughter has taught me when bold thoughtful actions, follow bold thoughtful words, candor becomes respected, and appreciated. I’ll admit I’m kind of in mid-jump. I have my moments where I soar, and ones where I’m convinced the taunting kids at the bottom of the step might be right, I won’t do it. But at least now I’m enjoying the flight.

If you would like to submit a piece for this category please contact me. And if you have any connection to Mr. Kevin Spacey please let him know I would love him to share his story on Raw Candor.