“Dave! What you doing here? How did you find me? Shivani, this is my friend Dave.”
Shivani said, “He hair nice, eh? Thick and curly curly.”
I laughed and we hugged. “Come on in, but you’re gonna have to leave the boys in the hall. There’s no room for them in here.”
He looped their leashes around the cold pipe and came in. “Hey, Grace, let me ask you something?”
I pointed for him to sit on Kathy’s pouf and got two beers out of the fridge that I always had to walk all the way to Ali’s to buy without Id. “What?”
He grabbed a fistful of his fro. “Do I have fucked-up hair?”
I laughed. “What? Your hair is fine, Dave.”
“I don’t know. The kids downstairs all ran over to pet the dogs and one little girl with these tiny braids asked me how’d my hair get to be like theirs. The dogs’ hair, Grace.”
I knew exactly which little girl had asked him that. “Okay, your hair is a bit high. But how did you find me here? What are you doing here?”
We knocked cheers like old times and Dave took a drink. “Solid detective work. I got a phone bill from Sol and Miriam and called the number you called on the island. A woman answered the phone and said she had to get a message to your mom. Then your sister, who sounds exactly like you, answered when I called back the next day and she gave me your friend Kathy’s number. I called Kathy and she told me you were staying in her place in Brooklyn. And voilà, here you are!”
“You’re crazy, Dave,” I said. But I was so happy to see him. “And Ben’s fine, right?”
“Of course he’s fine. Riding the subway never killed anyone, except, you know, if they fell on the tracks or got shot or something. Miriam’s from Carroll Gardens, for chrissakes.”
“Still though, he’s their baby.”
Dave looked at me. “Grace, you know I couldn’t tell you they were buying the house, right? I gave them my word and I couldn’t go back on that. But I am sorry.”
“Dave, it’s okay. It doesn’t make a difference now anyhow. How’s the garden? Is the frangipani still flowering?”
“Better than that.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “Check this out.”
“Hey.” I looked at the big green emerald nestled in his palm. “Is that a baby papaya? Dave, yay, but why did you pick it?”
“ ’Course I didn’t pick it, it fell off. But yeah, the two new branches are loaded with fruit. You did it, Grace. But that’s why I’m here.”
“To show me the fruit?”
“To offer you a job. I’m going back to Key West and I need someone to keep the place going. You interested?”
Of course I was interested. “But what about Sol and Miriam? I couldn’t live in the towers and—”
“Don’t worry about that,” Dave said. “They’ve closed on the house. You won’t be running into them unless you take a detour to Duck Hollow.”
I couldn’t believe my luck. “Really, Dave?” I asked. “Minding plants instead of . . . you know. Oh my God, yes!”
“Good, I was hoping you’d say that. You get to live in the guest quarters and take care of the plants, but you’ll have the run of the apartment. You can practice your plantology as you go along.”
“When do you want me to start?”
“How soon can you?”
There was nothing keeping me in Brooklyn. Sylvia was lost to me. Micky, Derek, Bo—they were gone and I didn’t know where.
“Let me call Shivani and pack up a few things.”
I was ready in less than an hour. Shivani kept asking if I didn’t want this or that, but it was all stuff left over from Kath and of no value to me. She opened up a cupboard and saw Kath’s BeDazzler. “Here, this you have to take. This is a spensive thing.”
“You take it,” I told her. “Use it to decorate your saris.”
“Huh, you wouldn’t catch me dead in one of them thing.”
“Be good, okay?”
“Okay. Don’t forget me, you hear?” I hugged her and we left.
CROWN HEIGHTS LOOKED EXACTLY the same in spite of the recent ugliness. I felt sorry for the big old trees on Eastern Parkway that their job was to divide north/south traffic, and not to be majestic in a forest someplace.
“Dave, stop.”
He braked too suddenly and the driver behind us pounded his horn.
“Some more warning, please, Grace.”
But I wasn’t listening to him. We were about to go past Sylvia’s building, and next door at Miss Florence’s house I saw the old Russian workman on a ladder and Mutt or Jeff carrying a pigtail bucket of something to throw in a Dumpster parked out front. Jacob was standing in the yard with his hands on his waist under his black jacket looking up at his man Mikhail. Next to him, dressed identically, a boy about Dame’s age stacked a red brick tower.
“You want to say bye to someone?”
I looked for a little while longer, but didn’t see anyone I really knew.
Acknowledgments
My husband, Grey Thornberry, who never once doubted. Who read when there was only one paragraph written, and praised it. Who supported me, and supports me still. I love you, Star.
I am also honored to thank the following friends:
Nancy Willard, who six years past my graduation told me she’d be interested in reading anything I’d written since Vassar.
My agent, Jean Naggar, who named Minding Ben so aptly. Jean, thank you for seeing what my pages could become.
Brenda Copeland, my editor, who with both hands on her waist, tilted her head, sized up the manuscript, and said, “Let me show you what you’ve got here, Missy.”
Susan M.S. Brown, who saw typos I had been staring at for nine years.
Catherine Hoskyns and Sol Picciotto for their quiet refuge in Leamington Spa and their lasting friendship.
Thuy Linh Tu, John Morely, and Melissa F. Zeiger, who each read the manuscript when, with a flourish, I thought it was done.
Sandra Hanson for taking me back how many times, and counting? Cecilia Macheski for being everlasting. Daniel Lynch for encouragement so early on.
The Hunter College Fall 2009 Workshop Class, with Peter Carey at the helm.
Gretchen Gerzina, my mentor from that first class.
Robert DeMaria, because of you, I always get the Swift and Pope questions on Jeopardy! Susan Davis for being a champion. I miss you, Ms. Imbrie.
Susan Bethel and Marian Alfonso; every girl needs at least two Kathys. And Rhonda, my oldest friend in the world (please watch out for jep nest when yuh tiefing people plum).
Nancy Ney and David Rockwell (and Joey!), on whom the Bruckners are not based.
Sally White, this could have gone in a whole other direction, couldn’t it?
Trevor Wilkins for finding that tune.
Helen Dekker and Mase-Mase, you guys are exactly what I asked BJ for.
And to go back to the beginning: Pansy Crawford and her family; Sharon Huggins and her family; Lora Speiser and her family.
Reading Group Guide
Grace is sixteen years old and living in her native Trinidad when a relative offers to help her begin a new life in America. For the intelligent and ambitious Grace, this is a once in a lifetime chance, though it means leaving her friends and family behind. She dreams of the opportunities that await her as she boards a plane to her new and exciting life. But America is not everything she hoped for, and the harsh realities of living in New York City are far from the dream she had imagined.
After two hardscrabble years in New York, Grace finds herself working as a babysitter for the Bruckners, a wealthy Manhattan family with a young son named Ben. As Grace takes on the demeaning and humiliating role of the Bruckners’ nanny (and de facto maid and jack-of-all trades), she also must learn to navigate the complicated playground politics among the women in the West Indian babysitting community.
With dignity and pride, Grace perseveres in the face of gossiping nannies and abusive bosses so that she may achieve her own Americ
an Dream.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Why is it so important to Grace that she move to America? What are her goals? What does she want her new life to be like? How do you think her American Dream is similar to or different from that of the other West Indian babysitters she encounters?
2. Discuss Grace’s relationship with Sylvia’s family. How is Grace’s relationship with Sylvia’s family juxtaposed with the relationship she forms with the Bruckners? What are the clashes between Grace’s life with the “haves” and the “have-nots”? Where does Grace fit in within those two worlds?
3. Grace comes in contact with many families throughout the novel, from Sylvia’s family, to the Bruckners, to Sol’s family and Miriam’s family. How does each family relate to Grace? Where does she find sympathy and where does she find hostility?
4. What challenges does Grace face from the other West Indian babysitters in Union Square? How does she learn to navigate the politics of that community? Why is her relationship with Ule so important to her?
5. Discuss Grace’s friendship with Dave. Why do you think Dave befriends her? What do they share? In what ways are they both outsiders in the Bruckner family?
6. What do you make of Miriam Bruckner? How does her own history inform her treatment of others, including her husband? In what ways is Miriam—like Grace—a victim of her own circumstances? Does she have any redeeming qualities?
7. What prejudices does Grace come up against, both her own and those of others toward her? How does she learn to deal with her own prejudices? What does she gain by being open-minded?
8. How does Kathy’s experience in America influence Grace’s decisions? Do you think Grace learns from her friend’s mistakes?
9. What is the significance of the halter top that Grace buys? Why is it so important to her to own the top? What does it symbolize to her?
10. Why does Grace stay with the Bruckners for so long? In her position, do you think you would have stayed with the Bruckners? Why or why not? Which of Grace’s decisions do you agree or disagree with?
11. The story of Grace’s first days in America is an upsetting one. What does she learn from that experience? In what ways does her naïveté let people take advantage of her? Does she ever really learn to take care of herself?
A Conversation with Victoria Brown
Q: How much of Minding Ben is autobiographical? Why did you choose to tell this story through a novel, as opposed to a memoir or essays?
I like to say that the novel is fiction, biography, and autobiography, not necessarily in that order. The protagonist Grace shares my middle name and I actively referenced my own coming-to-America story as I wrote. Still, I was hoping to capture an experience much larger than my own, which ruled out memoir as the best genre.
Q: What made you want to come to New York City? What was the chain of events that led you to becoming a nanny? How did the experience of immigrating to the United States on your own at such a young age shape your adult life?
How could I not want to come to New York City! I grew up in a small village on a small island. Morne Diable exists. And, while I had an incredible childhood, there wasn’t that much room to maneuver, literally. To go back to the first question to answer the second, if there is in fact anything in the novel that approaches pure autobiography, then it’s the story Grace tells Dave in the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens—that’s pretty much the story of my arrival to New York. Being on my own from the age of sixteen has made me the most optimistic person I know. It’s really really hard for life to get me down. And, whenever the inevitable negative situation arises, I just think, well, here we go, another adventure.
Q: What were the most challenging aspects to assimilating yourself into an American household? What cultural differences created problems? Was there any part of Trinidadian culture that you brought to the families you worked for?
Initially it was hard not to gawk. We didn’t talk back to our parents in the Caribbean; cussing was a punishable offense. I was amazed at the open relationship these children had with their parents, and how tolerant and even blasé the parents were at what I thought was so much rudeness. I don’t know that I actively passed on any Trini culture. At sixteen I was so busy soaking up America (MTV!), I was shedding my Trinidadian self. I think I had an American accent within a month of arriving in New York.
Q: You’re now a mother and have someone to come in and help you with your kids. How did that influence the way that you developed the characters in the book?
I started the novel long before I had my children. In the editing phase I softened many of the adult gestures and interactions with the kids, the little nuzzles and cuddles you come to know so well as a parent. There’s also not that much longing by Miriam or any of the other mothers for the time they’re not with their children. I think it’s become myth that working mothers are longing to stay at home and raise their kids full-time. When I’m with my children they have my undivided attention, so I’m quite glad when I have a sitter and can go off and get some work done.
Q: Are you working on anything new? Do you ever plan to continue Grace’s story?
I am working on something new, a story about going home and friendship and loss. I hadn’t thought about continuing Grace’s story. Do you think I should? She’s not completely settled at the end, but you do get the feeling she’s well on her way in her American journey, no?
About the Author
VICTORIA BROWN was born in Trinidad and at sixteen came alone to New York, where she worked as a full-time nanny for several years. She majored in English at Vassar College before attending the University of Warwick in Coventry, England. Eventually, she returned to New York, where she taught English at LaGuardia Community College. She is now completing her MFA at Hunter College. Victoria lives in Brooklyn with her husband and two young children. She has a part-time babysitter in her employ.
www.byvictoriabrown.com
Copyright
Excerpt from PISH, POSH SAID HIERONYMOUS BOSCH, copyright © 1991 by Nancy Willard, reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.
Copyright © 2011 Victoria Brown
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. For information address Hyperion, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10011.
The Library of Congress has catalogued the original print edition of this book as follows:
Brown, Victoria (Victoria Grace)
Minding Ben / Victoria Brown.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-1-4013-4151-0
1. West Indians—United States—Fiction.
2. Babysitting-Fiction. I. Title.
PS3602.R724M56 2010
813′.6—dc22
2010018569
eBook Edition ISBN: 978-1-4013-2593-0
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Minding Ben Page 37
