Palm Beach County residents were asked:
Please tell us about an important moment in your life that would help someone understand what it’s like living in your neighborhood.
The stories and micro-narratives they submitted (as part of the We Are Here SenseMaker project) are listed below. Click ZOOM IN to learn more about the community member and how they interpreted their submission. NOTE: Some stories were partially transcribed by volunteers who shortened the narratives and referred to the storytellers in the third person (e.g., “her experience was” instead of “my experience was”).
I grew up in Belle Glade, FL working in the corn fields with my father and mother. It was very hard and I did not get a chance to go to school that much because we were up back and forth on the road. We had a big family. We worked hard and sometimes we would go to New York in July. Growing up was good and we were always working.
I lived in a very rough neighborhood. There were often shootings and police officers knocking on doors to ask questions. Many times everyone seen the scene but would never speak on it. There was at least 3-7 shootings in a month. Till this day the neighborhood is the same.
one moment in my life was the time I got pulled over by the police and he was giving me a bit of trouble and wouldn’t let me leave a few of my neighbors came along and I was finally relieved of his presence
Growing up in palm beach was terrible my mother didn’t like it one bit ! Palm beach was all sorts of bars young teens having babies,gang bangers shooting every night , Palm beach was horrible even for the children.
I Remember as a young adult about 18-20 when me and my mother were at a local store and I was referred to as “boy” by a white man. My mother didn’t react calmly at all to this she yelled at the man for his disrespectful attitude and words. At first I had no clue why my mother would react like that.As time passed by and I grew older I realized she felt him calling me a “boy”was degrading. Because our past during segregation she explained how that reference would always be degrading no mater what.
The neighborhood was a family, every child was each other’s, whenever there were needs, the others would help. My mother died in 1977, my neighbor had 4 girls but made sure we had decent clothes to wear. Born one of thirteen children, dad worked on the farm, woke up at 3 am and came home late. Mom was authority figure, caring for one another. Did not have much but made sure we had enough. We didn’t see ourselves as being poor. If someone was sick, we helped each other.