It was my junior year of college, back in the Spring of ‘97 when I made a last ditch effort to save myself and traveled back to my elementary school, P.S. 44 on Staten Island to make a short documentary about the school’s Principal Albert F. Quinn. I had become very depressed that year after my daughter's mother left me for what I thought was a friend. She and I had lived together with our daughter the previous year. Those were dark days for me. I thus developed a taste for Vodka and bong hits, my work and grades slipped, and I was very close to falling below the C average I needed to keep my scholarship. But the depression wasn’t so much about losing a girlfriend but that she took the baby with her. She left me the cat.
Public School 44 is in Mariner's Harbor, the neighborhood where I grew up until I was 13 years old. The school was two blocks away from the projects and most of us walked to school except for the kids who lived in the "white" projects on Continental Avenue. The "white" projects are in fact made of white bricks but it was also a fact mostly white folks lived in those buildings. Mr. Quinn was the Principal of the school then and by the time I made my returned he had amassed 20 years on the job. He was a Navy man that, as a Principal ruled the school with an iron fist. With the G.I. Bill he studied at Columbia and taught math at Curtis High School one year before becoming Principal of 44. Our very own Frank McCourt. – One day I took a swing at Mr. Quinn in the auditorium, one of those Mike Tyson’s Punch Out type leaping upper cuts, I must have been only 10 years old, he towered over me with his big round, silver topped Irish head, and when I missed he dragged me kicking and cursing all the way to his office on the second floor with my arm in a chicken wing. Good times.
When I visited Mr. Quinn to film the doc he revealed something to me in an interview. He had very much a “tough love” style and he said when reflecting on us rugged kids from The Harbor as potentially becoming “either a major general or a general nuisance.” His mission was to influence the former. When I rolled out on my last mag of film, off camera he pulled me close, wrapped his arm around my shoulders and whispered to me, “Thank you for being who you are.” I didn’t know exactly what he meant by that. I wasn’t even sure what I was really, but his words meant a lot to me. He was the closest thing I ever had to a father aside from my Uncle Charlie. Mr. Quinn’s words of thanks let me know I was at least becoming the man I should be. Those were the last words I can ever remember him saying.
I shot the doc with the help of my friend Kelly Riley and although I didn't finish the film in time for the junior show my professor John Terry gave me a much-needed B+ after screening a strong rough cut. Thanks Kelley and thanks John.
On this Thanksgiving Day we think back into our minds to remember those nouns we’re thankful for. Spending this holiday in Afghanistan I can’t help thinking how problematic the memory can be when it comes to war. My own mother was diagnosed with PTSD simply because of growing up on the same island as me, and a few of my other relatives have also been diagnosed with mental illness. I’m thankful today that I’ve been able to avoid the psychologist since I was 17 as not to be diagnosed with something myself.
Considering this national holiday and my current geopolitical position, I thank all those who fought to preserve my liberties, even when I didn’t ask, and those who wrestled with history and philosophy giving us reasons to fight. I give thanks to those who struggled and battled with the people and government of my own country to ensure I didn’t get lynched for procreating with a white woman. I'm thankful to know I have a wonderful daughter. Lastly I wish to thank American military service members who unconditionally fight for us, either sacrificing their lives, their families, their careers and financial gain, their youth, or sometimes their sanity; sometimes all these things.
Thank you for being good Soldiers and Marines.
Thank you for being good Sailors and Airmen.
Thank you for being who you are.
