My Life in New Jersey


All rights reserved. Copyright (c) 1996 by Norman Aragones

Growing up in 'Jersey wasn't necessarily dreadful or spectacular; it was just living. You know, like everybody else. Most of the time I woke up, washed up, dragged my lazy butt to school or work, dragged my lazy butt back home, hung out with my friends, and generally tried to avoid having a bad day while enjoying myself as much as I could. There were good moments, bad moments, and many instances of angst, insecurity, and frustration in between. Generally, I can't think of anyone would be interested in hearing the whole sordid tale, but for those of you who are, here it is.


To everything, ...turn, turn, turn.
There is a season, ...turn, turn, turn.
And a time to every purpose under heaven.

--Byrds, 1966


Note: Everything here is a true account of my life, (as far as my swiss-cheese memory can tell) but for the sake of avoiding annoying legal issues, I have made small changes in my descriptions of several events. (Don't worry- for the most part I've changed names to protect the innocent and the really naughty. ;)

I came to America with my parents way back in 1974, when I was three years old. At the time the Phillippines was a political powder keg, and my grandparents realized that it was not going to be a place for their descendants to live happy lives. So they sacrificed a lot to pay the huge traveling tax (over 5,000 pesos per person, I've been told) for my parents and I to leave the Philippines and fly to the U.S. Well, they managed to pay it, and we flew, leaving for a strange and awesome nation which sparkled in the dreams of any person who's lived under tyrants and bloodshed.

Once here, however, the hard facts of daily living settled in. My father managed to get a job as an engineer at a factory near Jersey City, while my mother took on the career of raising me and taking care of the household. An interesting cultural note-- the traditional stereotype of an 'ideal' family in my culture generally has the husband going out and making the money then coming home and giving it all to the wife who then budgets out an allowance for the husband to play with. In this stereotype, the husband may be the breadwinner, but it's the wife who's the intelligent one.

Alas, this stereotype is not how things would turn out in the U.S. Great changes were afoot in the world, which would eventually decimate the factory as a workplace in this country. The rise of foreign manufacturers, advances in the computer industry, and the proliferation of the credit card would eventually come together and break my family. But that would still take some time. It was still the late seventies, and the Aragones Family was prospering in America. We were happy.

The Eighties

In 1982, I was eleven years old. My family had moved several times from apartment to apartment around the area, and had finally settled in the second floor of a building on St. Paul's Avenue, Jersey City, right across from J.W. Wakeman, Public School #6. I had done well in my studies, and had been placed in the Gifted and Talented classes, which meant of course that most of the other students hated us for all the extra field trips we got to go on. I got an early education in social science: How to avoid ticking off people who already resent you.

It was near the end of the school year that Miss Marple, our sixth grade teacher, called some of the students in out class together. I looked around and saw that there were only six of us, out of all thirty-four. Some of my best friends had been called.

"Dalton, Robert, Eroca, Rochelle, Norman, and Annie. I'd like to meet with you for a little while as the other students have lunch in the yard. There's something I want to talk with you and your parents about."

"Aww, man-- Do we have to? We're not going to eat?"

"Now, Robert, I'll make sure you get out in time to finish your lunches."

"Cool."

"Thank you, Miss Marple."

"You are quite welcome, Rochelle."

I felt a twinge of envy as some of my friends left with the other students to go play in the yard. It was a sunny day, and I felt the cool breeze blow in as the hall monitor opened the large metal double doors to reveal the bright playground outside. We, however, left our desks and rearranged our colored plastic chairs in a circle around Miss Marple's desk.

"Children, I want you to know that I'm very proud of all of you. I have wonderful news! I have just received a letter from the Jersey City Board of Education saying that you six are some of the brightest students in the county, and that you have been chosen to join a special program that will be a match for your intelligence! It's called the Acceleration and Enrichment Program, and they invite only the top students here to participate! You will be taking advanced classes in literature, science, and mathematics from some of the best teachers New Jersey has to offer, and will actually have college-level courses over the next two years! Isn't that just wonderful?"

"Cool!"

"Wow."

"Where is it?"

"Well, it's based in Public School #25, Nicolaus Copernicus, but classes will be held both there and in Jersey City State College."

"What about here? Aren't there any classes here?"

"...Well, no, Eroca; if you choose to enter the A.E.P. you will go to Nicolaus Copernicus instead of going here next year."

"That means that the only friends we'll have are the ones here who choose this new program next year."

"That's not true, Norman. You will be learning with other children from all over the county! They will have the same likes and interests as you, and all of you will become fine friends. And there's nothing which says that you won't keep the friends you have here."

"It won't be the same"

"Well, no, it won't. But trust me, all of you will come to love it! Now please take these envelopes to your parents tell them everything I explained to you. Please tell them to contact me within the next week to discuss their decisions. Alright? Now go outside and enjoy the lunch break. I'm sure all the other classmates will be quite excited to hear the news!"

As instructed, I went home later that day and told my parents. As expected, they were ecstatic to hear that their child was being honored by the city in this way. All I could think of was leaving my friends behind, which is what seemed to happen every time we moved. As far as I was concerned, my invitation was not a good thing.

"See? Like I have often told you: If you work hard enough, you will always get what you want!"

"But mom--"

"Oh, my boy! I'm so proud of you! Didn't I tell you he was special?"

"Dad, i don't--"

"You'll have to take him to the new school when you drive to work, then pick him up again when--"

"Oh, I don't mind! Anything for my son! I'll wake him up as I get ready for work, and then we can leave--"

"BUT I DON'T WANNA GO!!"

"What?"

"But I thought you--"

"What do you mean? Of course you're going! No child of mine is going to stay in some public school when he has the chance to prove how smart he is!"

"Now, mother, Norman can make his own decisions-"

"HE IS GOING!!"

"Dad! Why can' mom see that I don't want to go?"

"Mother, I think we need to talk this out."

"We've done enough talking! Norman, can't you see that this is a good move? You'll be with smarter kids, away from that stupid crowd you usually play with. This is a step up! You are going somewhere! And I don't care if you like it or not. I am entering you in this program. Trust me. You'll thank me for this later."

I looked at my dad. He was clearly torn, seeing both my mom's point and my hurt feelings. All I could see at the time was his inability to help me. I did what all eleven- year-olds do in these situations. I ran into my room and cried.

My dad knocked on my bedroom door, asking if he could come in and talk. I shouted,

"GO AWAY!! I HATE YOU!!"

And threw my face into my pillow, trying to hide the tears.

A few days later, Robert came up to me in the playground during lunch break and asked in I was going into "...that new program." I told him that yeah, it was a good move, and that it would be a chance to really prove how smart I was. Both of us sounded as excited as dead rocks. As it turned out, only Dalton, Annie and I had accepted. For various reasons, Robert, Eroca, and Rochelle's parents chose to decline their invitations. I wished I had parents like theirs.

The A.E.P.

I started seventh grade in a class of twenty-eight strangers, save for Dalton and Annie. This time around, we were the twenty-eight most 'gifted' students in the entire county, which of course warranted the resentment of all the other schoolchildren in the city, especially the students of Nicolaus Copernicus, P.S.#25. Our program 'stole' several classrooms throughout the building, as well as weekly trips to the facilities at Jersey City State College. We would gather in the morning outside the large metallic double doors with all the other schoolchildren, and it was their collective annoyance at us, more than anything else, which brought the twenty-eight of us together.

One thing I should mention here is that the A.E.P. taught seventh and eight grade. The 'seniors' had a class of thirty-two, and not to be outdone by the other students, they looked at us 'freshmen' with sublime indifference.

So in that sense, it was the twenty-eight of us, or nothing. Each AEP'er had been transplanted from their home school, and since no one had come from Nicolaus Copernicus, we were all pretty much alone in a new and strange setting. Getting to know the other AEP'ers had turned into a survival issue.

In the beginning, Dalton, Annie and I formed a small clique for mutual support and encouragement. Shortly, however, it became clear that we didn't need to be so defensive, since everybody else seemed about as insecure as we were.

Annie soon made friends among the others girls, and our 'tight P.S. #6 crew' lost it's only female member. Not long after that, the 'crew' pretty much ceased to be important, as classes, study groups, and other grade school politics began to evolve. People soon got word of who was good at math, who could read the fastest, who knew next week's subject the best. And in this culture, what there was to do was to grill that person for every ounce of information you could get. That way, all the things you didn't catch the first time around would be revealed without having to go over the material six more times. Everybody soon got to know everybody, and the rumor mill ran on about how to ace the upcoming tests, rather than who was doing what with whom. We were a bunch of geeks. What else was there to say?

Well, that's not entirely true. Geeks, yes. But still teenage geeks. This basically meant that we each had the drive and curiosity of everybody else in seventh grade, but were about ten times as insecure about it!

I can remember meeting Maria Bautista for the very first time. We were, as always, standing outside the main doors to Nicolaus Copernicus, passing time until the school bell rang. It was still during the first semester, and the eighth graders were still checking us all out. They seemed too big and godlike to us newbies. And Maria Bautista was the sexiest, most seductive of the lot.

She was one of the girls that had 'developed' early, and it was clear that she was loving all the attention, and learning quickly how to accentuate her beauty with makeup, clothes, style, and charm. All this, and a laser-sharp mind to go after her ambitions. I wouldn't be surprised if she was an executive or vice president today.

So there I was, waiting for the school bell to ring, talking with Arnel about quadratic equations. As it turned out, I had become one of the 'math/computer' guys to talk to, and he was grilling me about last night's homework. All of a sudden I hear,

"So this is the new filipino, hmmm?"

The voice didn't sound like any of the girls I had met. It was far more textured and confident. My ears perked up immediately.

"Why doesn't he turn around so I can see his cute face?"

"I think he's frightened" A different female voice.

"He's got a lot to be frightened of." A man's voice, this time.

"Oh, you!" Laughter.

"Please turn around? I promise I won't bite."

She said this with just enough amusement that it looked like she might. I was way over my head. Nevertheless, I turned around to look. How bad could it be?

Real Bad. Imagine what a baby deer goes through as it sees the dazzling lights, realizing an instant too late that those lights are attached to a Mack Truck.

In front of me was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. A tanned Asian woman with deep, piercing almond-shaped eyes and pouting lips with just a hint of a smile; her head was framed by silky obsidian hair which tumbled down the slopes of her shoulders and down her back. In her shimmering bare waist silk blouse and tight blue jeans, she was a sight to behold.

I, however, wasn't doing much other than that. I think it was the stupefied look on my face which got Maria and the other eighth graders laughing. Catching myself, I felt mortified. Between the insecurity, attraction, and humiliation, all I could figure out was that I had gotten myself into a really stupid situation!

"Aww, poor baby..."

With that unnerving smile, she reached over and caressed my cheek, bringing me closer so that she could kiss it.

I, however, could not stand it. In a swift, angry reflex, I jerked away from her, and stormed off towards the main doors, praying that the bell would ring.

It did.

Behind me I heard more laughter. I felt like I would have preferred death at that moment; since it was a lot quicker than the pain of humiliation.

To this day, I didn't know if Maria was laughing along with them. I never bothered to find out.

High School

I graduated from The A.E.P. with certificates in Science, Literature and Mathematics. We held the graduation ceremony at one of the more prestigious halls at Jersey City State Colege. I remember how proud and happy my parents were that day; the excitement and joy on their faces served to remind how much they love me and want the best for me. I love them for that.

That day was more bittersweet for me, however. I couldn't stop thinking of the fact that this was ending, and that like every other time we moved, I would be losing the friends I had just gotten to know. Mom had started talking about moving out of Jersey City, because "It's turning into a ghetto and the good people are moving to the suburbs." So we were moving. Again.

By 1984 our family was prosperous, but not happy. Like many other people, my father had been laid off from his engineering job and was struggling to find work. Thanks to computer training, however, my mom had risen from an accounting position at ABC television to become something new: a computer programmer. She was making more money than my father ever had, and if there was one thing my mom had no patience for, it was a man who couldn't keep up with her.

Every now and then I wonder if my parents would have stayed together if they had stayed in the Philippines. I firmly believe that America in the eighties was a lousy time for couples in general; between the changes in the job market, redefinition of relationships and social contracts, and the general preferance of "Me" over "Us", it was no wonder that the divorce rate reached an all time high. My parents came from a country where the entire town came to the church and you had to kneel for six hours at the altar to have God and a host of saints bless your marriage. The entire ceremony takes three days to complete, I've been told. That's a big difference between Filipino marriages and American marriages. By 1985 my parents hadn't made the translation.

We did make it to Piscataway, however.

Piscataway, New Jersey is a small town clumped together with a bunch of other small towns around the slightly larger commercial town of New Brunswick, New Jersey. As I discovered later, the area is rife with history, and is one of the sites of Rutgers University.

Mom had made enough money to mortgage a house that was being built in one of the new suburban developments in Piscataway. What had used to be farmland was turning into something like the town in Edward Scissorhands. Well, not exactly, but pretty close.

More to come...


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