In Chicago, under the love and acceptance of my Jewish in-laws, my respect grew for other beliefs and I learned the beauty of difference. Our differences walk hand-in-hand with our similarities. The world is not black and white, it is a sparkle of multiple colors to be embraced, not rejected. My creativity continued after the birth of my son as poetry poured words into sleepless nights and surrealistic art carved its’ niche during nap-time. But I was still so hungry for more! When I went to college, marital differences became disputes and distances became gulfs between my husband and I. Emotional distances turned into physical ones when I returned to Cincinnati with my beautiful son, leaving my ex behind, but not my love of him.
In the city of my birth, I plunged head-first into combustible collegians and my smoke grew into torches touching many hearts with the love of learning. Mind you, it wasn’t my idea to become a teacher, it was God’s. I know because I argued with Him, saying, “Are you crazy? I’ll kill one of those mouthy little bastards, and then who will raise my son?” But you can’t argue with God, so off I trotted to the B.S. of Secondary Education/English. My, doesn’t that have other connotations! Surprisingly,I didn’t kill any of my students, but they knew when I was angry. Young people should learn that anger doesn’t mean lashing out and hurting others. I means you did something that was unfair that I didn’t like, such as disrupting a lesson that others actually wanted to hear. Yes, I taught them analytical reading and expressive writing, but I also taught them that everyone gets a quota of asshole time, they just need to move on from there and not go over their limit. Maybe that’s why I didn’t shine with educational administrators. It’s funny that students can understand what administrators can’t. And maybe that’s why my 13-year tenure in teaching was blended with two, 2-year bouts of unemployment. And maybe that’s why I moved from teaching back into graphic arts.
I worked for a Temple in Cincinnati, where my organizational and artistic skills served well for eight and a half years. I learned more about Judaism and my respect grew for their discipline and dedication, which is sustained even during this anti-religion era. And, yes, this is an anti-religion era. Tolerance is preached from the pulpits of higher education, scientific thought and political correctness, yet there is no tolerance for religions or smokers. They are the new enemies of the state. It was during this period of growth that I became Rhodes Fitz William and wrote two blogs: “The Goal-Focused Writer” and “Dystopian Reviewer.” I also finished my first novel, A LONG WINTER’S NIGHT. I was finally happy with my growth.
When I retired early, it was a mixed blessing. I was had time to write, but I didn’t have any money to support that writing. I also became a reader for David Bright’s GEMINI MAGAZINE. What a stimulus to my creativity! I moved into my sister’s basement in January 2014 and that’s when all hell broke loose. My mother had her first series of strokes that night! So January, March and June gobbled up mass amounts of time taking care of Mom after her strokes and through her recovery. Yet I still carved out my writing time. For two years, Mom did well. However, in January 2016, Mom suffered a major stroke from which she would not recover. My sister and I tried to keep her in the home, but it was physically and emotionally devastating. My already sick sister died in May 2016, just two weeks before we planned our time of respite. I had to put my mother in long-term care one week after we buried my sister and something in me broke.
It has taken two more years of recuperation and mourning, but finally I’m back. I am not longer the pseudonym of Rhodes Fitz William. Like the VELVETEEN RABBIT, I am finally real. I am the real reader and author, C.L. Cohen.“I am the smoke vanquishing sleep in the night” … and I do say what I think, but hopefully, one of the things I’ve learned in life is tact.
C.L. Cohen
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