By Daddy’s request, he was cremated. On Father’s Day, Lisa, Edwin, Ruben, Eva, and I spread his ashes throughout Greenwich Village, stopping to place small handfuls of ash at each of his favorite spots: the doorstep of a friend’s building, in front of his methadone clinic, and on the block where he first lived with Ma back before they ever had children. Then we took the rest of his ashes and mixed them with rose petals, and sent them out to the sea off the boardwalk in Battery Park. The pink petals floated away in the receding sunlight that evening, and Lisa, my friends, and I sat on a bench leaning on one another, sharing stories of our favorite memories of Daddy. Quietly, Ed reached down and squeezed my hand, tight, and I knew we were both heartbroken but also proud that Daddy died happy, surrounded by people who love him.
When I graduated from college, my friends Dick and Patty threw me a party at their home in Newton, Massachusetts, and Lisa and all my friends came out to celebrate. When they brought out the cake I looked up to see a ring of support surrounding me, the faces of loved ones old and new, everywhere: Lisa, Ruben, Anthony, Ed, Eva, Shari, Bobby, Su, Felice, Dick and Patty, Mary and Eddie, all singing in celebration. I stood there and took them in, my patchwork family, and I loved each of them. In that moment, I could feel my heart opened by the love I first knew from Ma and Daddy, the same love I felt staring at my friends; the love I feel for all of my family still.
On the day that I had just one question to ask the Dalai Lama, here’s what I asked. I wanted to know: “Your Holiness, you inspire so many people, but what inspires you?” He paused and leaned over for a moment to talk with his translator. Then His Holiness turned to me and with a lighthearted laugh he said, “I don’t know, I am just a simple monk.” The enormous conference hall erupted into giggles and whispers. It was by far the shortest time he’d spent answering any question that day, and it did not go unnoticed. With that, the Dalai Lama’s speech ended abruptly, he was whisked backstage, and the CEOs and I dispersed for a break into the crowded lobby. And that’s when the real lesson from that morning hit me, through the reactions I experienced from others.
Walking in the massive marble lobby among the crowd of executives, I was trying to sort out what had just happened when all of a sudden, one by one, the CEOs approached to tell me what they knew His Holiness had actually meant by his answer. First, a gruff man in his forties approached me and said, “I’ll tell you, it was very Zen of the Dalai Lama, the way he talked to you, very Zen. His answer was all about simplicity.” A tall woman in a power suit was next. “It’s deep,” she said, “the not-knowingness of it all. As a monk, he is okay with the ignorance inherent in the human condition.” And next, a tall man with a furrowed brow, obviously angry, said, “Liz, he didn’t answer you about what inspires him because he didn’t want to lower himself to our level. It’s arrogance!”
Nearly a dozen executives came to me during the short break and interpreted, with certainty, the meaning of the Dalai Lama’s answer. Until finally, later on, backstage, when I was being miked for my own speech, one of the Dalai Lama’s stagehands found me to apologize. “Sorry, Liz,” he said, “the interpreter fumbled your question and His Holiness wasn’t able to understand you, because, well . . . we goofed. Oops.”
It turns out there was actually no meaning whatsoever to the Dalai Lama’s answer. Or rather, there was no meaning beyond the one each person had assigned it. What’s more, each person had witnessed the very same exchange, and not one of them came away with the same interpretation.
Standing there ready for my speech, I peeked out onto the crowd, and I smiled inside. Much more than the differences between people, what was so clear to me in that moment, instead, were our similarities: the tendency for people to make meaning of their experiences. Like my certainty of my love for Ma and Daddy; or the moment I finally trusted that I could, in fact, change my life. The executives were certain of their interpretations of the Dalai Lama, just as my homeless friends were once certain that there was simply “no way out.” Not unlike the belief I once held that “a wall” blocked me from my dreams, the same walls I watch tumble down when participants in my workshops finally decide that the only time to embrace life fully is now.
As I stepped out into the bright lights before the room of executives crowding the enormous exhibit hall, I took them in, marveling at one thing I know for sure: homeless person or business person, doctor or teacher, whatever your background may be, the same holds true for each of us: life takes on the meaning that you give it.
Acknowledgments
THE DEEPEST GRATITUDE GOES OUT TO A POWERHOUSE TEAM OF people at Hyperion, whose patience and faith saw this book through to fruition. In particular, I am grateful to my editor, Leslie Wells, for her diligent work and heartfelt vision, which she poured onto these pages. I am equally grateful to Ellen Archer and Elisabeth Dyssegaard for their support and commitment to this book. Thank you for hanging in there with me, for your backing and belief in my story. You ladies have the patience of saints.
Thank you to my agent, Alan Nevins at Renaissance, who was there with me from the beginning. What can I say, Alan? From the start, you believed in what was possible with my story and then you went and made it happen. I am so grateful to you.
I am proud to acknowledge and thank author Travis Montez for his invaluable insight, edits, and hard work that were key to making Breaking Night possible. Travis, thanks for the many late nights, for being count-on-able, for lending your time and exceptional talent for poetry to the details of this project. This book would not be the same without you.
Thanks to my dear friend and sister, Eva Bitter, for helping lay the foundation of this book. Eva, your insights and edits were key in shaping the expression of my story, and your support and love throughout the years have given me the courage to tell it. I love you.
Much love and gratitude to my dear friend and brother, Robert Bender, who has been nothing less than completely supportive of my dreams from day one, including this book. Bobby, thank you for your unwavering love all these years, and for being my family. Here’s to many more years to come.
A very special thank you to my dear friend Ruben, my “FP.” Ruben, this book and so much of the person I am today is because of you. I am forever grateful for your tireless support and unconditional love, for you opening your heart and your family to me. There are no proper words to express what you mean to me, Ruben. I love you, siempre.
Love and appreciation to my sister, Lisa Murray, whose life also appears in the pages of this book. Lisa, thank you for your support throughout all these years. It was your love of writing that first inspired me to pick up my own pen, and I am grateful to you. I love you.
Thank you to “Sam,” whose life also appears in the pages of this book and whose friendship got me through some of my darkest moments. Sam, I love you.
The utmost appreciation to Alan Goldberg from 20/20, whose commitment and vision took my story from a handful of newspaper articles into the homes of millions of people, where it could make a difference in the lives of others. Alan, during that whirlwind of an experience, I want to thank you for your kindness. Your compassionate response to my family left an impression on my heart that I will never forget.
Absolute gratitude to Christine Farrell, president of Washington Speakers Bureau, for her love and unconditional support in helping me share my message over the years to thousands of people throughout the world. Christine, when it was time to take care of my father and follow my dreams at the same time, your tireless work and solid friendship lifted me up and made it all possible. There is no way to measure or express the difference you have been in my life. Thank you.
I want to thank my high school teacher, Perry, who appears in this book, for dedicating so much of his life to teaching. Perry, what greater gift could you have given us students than your passion? Thank you for your part in making Humanities Preparatory Academy a place where anyone can come in earnest to enrich their mind and soul, and belong to a community that accepts and upl
ifts them.
Equally heartfelt gratitude goes out to my teachers at Prep. This book and much of my life simply would not be the same without your care and commitment to your students. The deepest thank you to Vincent Brevetti, Jessie Klein, Douglas Knecht, Caleb Perkins, Elijah Hawkes, Maria Hantzopoulos, Jorge Cordero, Susan Petrey, Christina Kemp, and Matt Holzer.
Thank you to Elizabeth Garrison, and her sons, my Puerto Rican brothers, Rick, Danny, John, and Sean, whose names appear in these pages and who fed, housed, and loved me like one of their own. I love each of you and want you to know that I am forever grateful for the difference you have made in my life. We will always be family.
There are a handful of people who opened their homes to me when I had nowhere else to go, and who fed me, in some cases, with the very last of their food. I am so grateful to you: Elizabeth Garrison, Paula Smajlaj, Julia Brignoni, Maria “Cookie” Porras, Martha Haddock, Margaret S., Jerzy Bitter, Daniel Lachica, and Michelle Brown.
Special thanks to my friend and fellow speaker Tony Litster for his generous advice and time spent laboring over these pages into the wee hours of the morning. Thank you, Tony.
Thank you to the New York Times Scholarship Program for their commitment to supporting students who are working hard to better their lives. Though I know this list will fall short of all the folks at the Times who made a difference in my life, I would like to give special thanks to: Arthur Gelb, Jack Rosenthal, Nancy Sharkey, Jan Sidorowicz, Dana Canedy, Cory Dean, the late Gerald Boyd, Chip McGrath, Bob Harris, Sheila Rule, Bill Schmidt, and Roger Lehecka. One way or another, I have witnessed and been moved by your dedication to seeing young people break through boundaries of poverty and move onto lives wide open with possibility. Thank you for the difference you have made.
I would like to particularly thank some of my friends and family for their support year after year, through thick and thin, as I worked on this book. Whether directly or indirectly, your love and encouragement has held me up in a way that made this book possible. I love you guys: Bobby, Ruben, Edwin, Eva, Dave Santana, Chris, James, Shari Moy, Lisa, Arthur, Jamie, Josh, Ramiro, Felice, Fief, Ray, Melvin Miller, Dick and Patty Simon, Jaci Lebherz, Mary Gauthier, Ed Romanoff, Travis Montez, Robin Diane Lynn, Robinson Lynn, Dick Silberman, Lisa Layne, and Lawrence Field.
Last but not least, thank you to Stan Curtis and Blessings in a Backpack, for allowing me to be a spokesperson and dedicated advocate for your cause of feeding hungry children across America. If only I’d had access to a program like Blessings in a Backpack when I was an undernourished child in New York City, I may not have gone to bed hungry all those nights. Thankfully, with your continued commitment, thousands of children across America won’t have to.
A PERSONAL INVITATION FROM LIZ MURRAY:
Dear Reader,
Today, it is my life’s purpose and passion to deliver workshops and speeches that empower others to lead their best lives. Nothing brings me more joy than seeing people overcome obstacles to succeed. For this reason, I’ve created a free video series for my readers where I share stories, ideas, and tools designed to inspire you. These videos are available on my website. To join in the conversation about reclaiming your vitality and achieving your dreams, I’d like to personally invite you to: www.homelesstoharvard.com
I look forward to connecting with you there.
In the meantime, I wish you every blessing.
Joy & Love to You,
Liz Murray
About the Author
Liz Murray completed high school and won a New York Times scholarship while homeless, and graduated from Harvard University in 2009. She has been awarded The White House Project Role Model Award, a Christopher Award, as well as the Chutzpah Award, which was given to Liz by Oprah Winfrey. Lifetime Television produced a film about Liz’s life, Homeless to Harvard: The Liz Murray Story. Today, she travels the world to deliver motivational speeches and workshops to inspire others. Liz is the founder and director of Manifest Trainings, a New York-based company that empowers adults to create the results they want in their own lives.
In the vein of The Glass Castle, Breaking Night is the stunning memoir of a young woman who at age fifteen was living on the streets, and who eventually made it into Harvard.
Liz Murray was born to loving but drug-addicted parents in the Bronx. In school she was taunted for her dirty clothing and lice-infested hair, eventually skipping so many classes that she was put into a girls’ home. At age fifteen, Liz found herself on the streets when her family finally unraveled. She learned to scrape by, foraging for food and riding subways all night to have a warm place to sleep.
When Liz’s mother died of AIDS, she decided to take control of her own destiny and go back to high school, often completing her assignments in the hallways and subway stations where she slept. Liz squeezed four years of high school into two, while homeless; won a New York Times scholarship; and made it into the Ivy League. Breaking Night is an unforgettable and beautifully written story of one young woman’s indomitable spirit to survive and prevail, against all odds.
Praise for Breaking Night
“As much as it is a memoir, Breaking Night is a primer on how poverty and drug abuse create a heartbreaking underclass of children, one that goes largely unnoticed. By the truly uplifting ending, Liz Murray has shown us the worst, and the very best, of America.”
—Haven Kimmel, author of A Girl Named Zippy and She Got Up Off the Couch
Copyright
Copyright © 2010 Liz Murray
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Hyperion e-books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
ISBN 978-0-7868-6891-9
EPub Edition © 2010 ISBN: 9781401396206
FIRST EDITION
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