Christmas is such a magical time of year, but growing up in the hood, the holiday looks a little differently. Most people don’t know and are often shocked to discover that in the earlier part of my childhood, I grew up in the projects of Phoenix, AZ also known as SunnySlope. For those of you who may be familiar with the area, I’m sorry and I hope you got out or will eventually. 

While living in SunnySlope, my three brothers and I were living in extreme poverty due to my mother’s drug addiction. There were a few good Christmas memories from that time and I thought it would be nice to share them with you.

Christmas looks a little different in the hood

The first Christmas memory that stands out to me was when I was in Kindergarten, so I was about six years old (1992). My mom happened to be a little more clean than usual and we were living in our own apartment. My stepdad’s parents had sent us a bunch of gifts. My brothers and I were super excited and tried to be sneaky and woke up super early that Christmas morning. We thought we could be slick by only opening up the smallest packages and trying to rewrap them once we had seen the present inside. 

But as kids do, we got carried away and before we knew it, we had opened all our gifts under the tree. My mom woke up and was so pissed at us that we got the whoopin’ of our lifetime! She was so mad but wanted to get pictures of us with all of our gifts to send back to our stepdad’s parents, that she made us take pictures before we had breakfast or even had a chance to get out of our jammies. So the three of us kids looked like a wretched mess with red sobbing faces making our best Vanna White poses in our underwear and jammies. It’s not a particularly positive memory, but definitely one I’ll never forget!

That following year, Christmas 1993, I was about 7 years old and in the 1st grade. This year my mom was pretty strung out and Santa didn’t make it to our house that year. We didn’t even have a Christmas tree. Instead, we had put a small string of lights and a couple bulbs on our aloe vera plant that sat on a shelf in our living room. 

Early that Christmas morning, we all went downtown and waited in line for what seemed like forever to the 7 year old me. Santa Cops was doing its annual toy giveaway and that’s where we would receive our presents. After waiting in line all morning, we went home and opened our two designated gifts each. I was so ecstatic that I got a My Little Pony and a Barbie, that I threw up all over my gifts from the excitement! Another unforgettable Christmas in the hood!

In 1994, we had a very special Christmas even though Santa didn’t come to our house again and we no longer lived in our own apartment. We were staying with a friend/customer of my mom’s, who she met at the strip club where she worked. Instead we went to a church where they were hosting a Toys for Tots or Salvation Army toy drive and waited in line to meet Santa. That year my two brothers and I got brand new bikes and back then Huffy bikes were all the rage!! They were definitely more exciting than the clothes my grandparents had sent to us. 

This year was especially wonderful because it was the only Christmas we would have with our baby brother Anthony. We even had him dressed up in a little Santa suit. We would lose Anthony three months later to Spinal Meningitis and Pneumonia. He was only 8 months old. Even though Anthony has been gone for so many years, I cherish the memory of him on Christmas and it feels like just yesterday seeing my sweet little brother in his adorable Santa outfit.

As I recall these early Christmas memories, I came to the realization that I never actually believed in Santa as a child. Maybe it’s because he often didn’t come to our house and we had to pick up our own gifts from the Salvation Army or Toys for Tots. Or maybe it’s because there were years he skipped us all together, especially when we were living in the shelter or in a motel. Whatever the reason, I learned quickly that Santa didn’t deliver to motels and definitely couldn’t drop presents off if you’re living in a car.

Growing up without a Christmas…

…for a number of years as a small child has made me really cherish programs like Santa Cops, Toys for Tots and the Salvation Army toy drives. I love the programs where you can adopt a child or family for the holiday and provide them with gifts or Christmas dinner. These programs hold a special place in my heart because I was that kid. My brothers and I were the names on the pieces of paper on the giving tree. 

Without these programs and people giving so generously of their hearts, there would have been many more years that my brothers and I wouldn’t have had presents or a holiday meal. I’m so thankful for programs like these and I’m incredibly proud of my friends who give back like my dear friend who runs Joyful Journeys in Colorado. All year, she hustles to provide after-school programming for at-risk youth and supplies and food/clothing so these don’t go without. But during Christmas, she rallies even harder to make sure kids all over Denver have a special Christmas. People like her and programs like these demonstrate that there is so much good in the world and that people do care. I’m thankful for all the people who made sure I had a Christmas while I lived in the projects.

When I moved to Colorado with my grandparents, Christmas changed dramatically for me. My grandpa loves Christmas!! Every year he would make a huge feast and all my cousins and family would come over and spend the day together. Even though we still struggled financially, my grandparents always managed to pull off a magical Christmas.

One of my favorite Christmases with my grandparents was when I was about 17. My poor younger brother, Brett, came down with the chickenpox so all of the photos he has poor “pizza face” as we called it. And my youngest brother, Brennen received a giant 7ft stocking filled with all kinds of toys. It made my heart so happy to see Brennen get to experience the magical mystery of Christmas. My grandpa made sure that Brennen believed in Santa and went to the extra mile with fake footprints in the snow and noises on the roof. That year, my grandpa got me a keyboard and a songbook so I could teach myself how to play. It was one of the most special gifts because of my love for music and to see him support my dream in such a great way.

My final memory to share is from Christmas 2004. It was the first time I brought my boyfriend home for Christmas. He came from a pretty modest family and so needless to say he was shocked to meet my grandma who swears enough to make a sailor blush. She’s not your typical sweet, cookie-granny. My grandma is a feisty, old bar broad who will cuss you out while she makes you plate. 

At the Christmas dinner table, I was mortified but not surprised when my spunky aunt started talking about dildos and other sex toys. The look on my boyfriend’s face was priceless. I’ll never forget our drive home and him being in utter shock at the R-rated Christmas dinner he had just experienced. I look back and laugh now because it is so true to my family’s character, but at the time, all I wanted to do was hide under a rock.

Christmas is one of my favorite times of year…

… and each year has brought me priceless memories that I will forever cherish. Some good, some bad, some sad and some embarrassing, but all special just the same. Although I’m no longer in the hood, I’ll always be a little ghetto and definitely will hold my SunnySlope Christmases dear to my heart.

If you want to hear more of my favorite Christmas stories, check out this episode of Truthatude TV