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Dear Reader,
Here are some notes that I hope will enlighten you as to my background, character and personality. A more thoroughgoing description would really require a book, so my presentation will be brief.
Overall, I would say that my childhood, although not perfect, was stable, consistent, and nurturing. I was raised in Queens, New York, one of the five boroughs (administrative divisions) of the City. My family consisted of both parents and a brother. We were, so to speak, very 'middle middle class', in lifestyle as well as economic situation. However, we were quite different from others in our social class, with intellectual endeavours and personal development taking more prominent roles.
My father, Charles, was an accountant at Pan American Airlines, my mother, Barbara, was a housewife until she went back to work, as a lab technician, when I was about 14. My parents were both born in Croatia, but had fairly complex backgrounds. On my father's side, there were German and Austrian connections, on my mother's side, Bulgarian and Macedonian. My father, as a soldier, escaped from Nazi-dominated Croatia during the Second World War, and was granted refugee status in what was by that time Allied-controlled Italy. He returned to Yugoslavia to work as a pilot in the national airline, but then he emigrated to America a few years after this. My mother was planning on starting on a career in Croatia when she happened to meet, through mutual acquaintances, my father in Rome during a holiday. They dated only a short time before deciding to marry that city, in St Peter's Basilica. My mother realised that her future then lay in the New World, and they both came to America, where they permanently settled.
After my birth, the first residence in which we lived was a rented apartment on the top floor of a house in Corona, Queens. When I was five, we moved to a somewhat better apartment in an eight floor building not far away. A few years after that, we were able to purchase our own house in Jackson Heights. This neighbourhood had an interesting history, in that it was at one time one of the premier areas of New York City, but had become 'merely' middle class by the time we moved there. The well-built two-story brick house in Jackson Heights dated from the 1930s. In all the places we lived, I believe that we were comfortable and secure but without having many luxuries. I learned to appreciate the all of the good qualities of the things I possessed, and I also learned how to make the best use of them, which often involved ingenuity and imagination. If I had been born into a wealthy household, where my whims were catered to, I might have developed a 'throwaway' mentality, and never appreciated the intrinsic value of the things I had.
Growing up, we were encouraged to expand our understanding of the world, whether it was through reading books or talking with other people or getting information from the mass media. Thus, education was always an important focus in my home. My parents wanted me to attain high academic qualifications, although their own credentials differed. Whereas my mother had attained a Master's Degree in Agricultural Science by her late 20s, my father did not attain his Bachelor's Degree until his 40s, through the arduous process of attending night school.
Religiously, I lived in a diverse, if not confused, household. My father was a very nominal Roman Catholic, my mother a relatively devout Seven Day Adventist Protestant. However, my father's real 'religion' was Croatian nationalism, which he pursued passionately all the time he lived in the US. Although I was raised as a Roman Catholic, my mother did not try to convert me to Protestantism, nor did my father try to convert me to political nationalism; I did however attend my mother's church meetings from time to time, which I found intriguing in a certain sense, but overall uninspiring and rather dull. This situation gave me an interesting perspective on how people deal with spirituality, in its various forms.
My parents, being immigrants from Europe, had gained proficiency in English only after coming to America. My mother did not know English very well when I was very young, and in essence, she was learning the language as I was. I also think that I learned Croatian probably before I even learned English, something which might have made my linguistic development more difficult in the early stages of school.
I attended Catholic school through the fourth grade, then, because of our move to Jackson Heights, I went to public schools thereafter. In New York at that time, secondary school was divided into Junior High School (grades 7, 8, 9) and High School (grades 10, 11, 12). Since I was performing significantly above average, I was eligible to take advantage of a Special Program, which allowed me to skip 8th grade. The idea was to put students on a 'fast track' which would concentrate a three years of curriculum into only two years. Needless to say, I eagerly accepted this opportunity to finish secondary school one year early.
Throughout my school experience, on the whole I did quite well academically, consistently getting class grades and standardised test results in the very good to excellent range. To be honest, however, I hated all the aspects of a classroom based education. Paradoxical but true. I disliked the depersonalising communal setting, the uninspired lectures, the teasing and harassment from certain kids. The stupefying boredom of the classroom contrasted in a notable way with the edgy interchanges with my peers in the hallways and the schoolyard. I learned to be observant and to use a quick wit, which is something that I decided was not necessarily a disadvantage in life.
The instruction I was given in Primary and Secondary School was of average to good quality and I coped well. However, in college at New York University, I experienced difficulties. The poorly arranged system of instruction, the communication problems with faculty (due to so many of them being foreign with inferior English language skills), the unfriendly even menacing environment in the area, and the long commute from Queens to downtown Manhattan all contributed to a certain depressing effect on my motivation. And that decision to skip a year in secondary school probably was a mistake, since I now believe I might have handled these various issues better if I were a little more mature.
When I attended graduate school in pursuit of my Master's degree in Finance, at Fordham University at Lincoln Center, I did significantly better academically; I thought this institution was more focussed and professional, the subjects more integrated, and the instructors better prepared and communicative.
My favourite areas of study were always history, current events, mathematics, and science (especially physics and chemistry). Although I had a great interest in music and art, unfortunately, I had very limited opportunity to seriously study these subjects in the schools I attended. I had private instruction in piano and guitar, but much of my musical talent I developed on my own. I did not attain a serious love of literature until later, but this I ascribe to my parents not being native English speakers, and on the poor instruction in English I received in school. I have come to the conclusion that language instruction (English or foreign) is among the worst-taught subjects in America.
As for my social environment, I was in contact with a wide array of people. Most of my social circle were middle class kids who also did well in school, although I was acquainted with students of varied personality types, backgrounds and income groups. My best friends were a small group of people who were smart, savvy, and had a wide knowledge of things. We were all very ambitious in our own way, but somewhat insecure in our abilities. I suppose this is common among all kids, but in New York, it was more sharply set in relief, more prominent. Yet it was difficult to get close to any of my peers. A lack of trust, I think, made any closeness difficult.
This lack of trust emanated from a peculiar mix of elements. Living in a predatory urban setting of prevalent and increasing crime, created an understandable reflexive reaction of suspicion borne out of a concern about personal safety and security. Declining moral attitudes also meant hazy boundaries and uncertain expectations in relationships. Many took advantage of this to abuse and exploit friendships and school connections. Intoxication became a way of escaping from severe or restrictive group demands. Put all this into the highly mixed ethnic and cultural environment that I found myself, and the formula becomes intriguing indeed. I could not accept many of the changes and I successfully resisted being drawn into dangerous or stupid activities. However, there was often a situation of what I would call 'status-testing', usually through the means of taunting and bullying. I learned to develop a quick response and varied methods of protecting myself. I could see first hand the dynamics I later explored in sociology, such as majority versus minority, and peer pressure to conform.
Patriotism was also an idea that was constantly challenged in my social environment in New York City, and I, as well as my friends, could not quite feel the stalwart certainty of what it meant to be an 'American'. Our sense of patriotism differed markedly from the those of people living in Texas or Maine, people whose ancestral trees have deep roots in America, people who had at best a hazy understanding of the 'old country'. I was conscious of my moral and ethical responsibilities, but I could not understand why these things should be linked to the concept of 'duty to a nation'. This consciousness I had was simply the result of a sincere desire to be a good, decent human being. Although my ambiguous if not disparaging view of patriotism made some people nervous, it turns out that overall it was a good thing, for it clearly allowed my individuality to develop more freely.
In college and graduate school, I was essentially trained as a financial analyst, and I worked in this occupation for a number of years at a major university in Manhattan. It was during this time, that through family members, I met a young girl called Cassandra Foxton who had come to New York from Europe to study Fashion Design at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT). I was highly impressed with her beauty, charm, intelligence and courage. In several years, we married, and I can say in all honesty, it has been as near to a perfect relationship ever since.
I eventually grew tired of my job, and I made the decision of leaving the calmer waters of finance to the rougher seas of writing and publishing. I also branched out to achieve a life-long goal of becoming an artist.
But we have reached the end of this brief note on my background; only a book can contain a comprehensive treatment of all the interesting things that have happened so far in my life. For the moment, the interested individual can find out more by reading the works I've written, as well as viewing the artwork I've created. To fill out some of the areas to which I have alluded above, I have added comments to the documents and photographs that can be found in the appropriate section. If you have comments or questions, please send them to mail@pauldennissporer.com.
Paul Dennis Sporer
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