Dot Rat

 

I grew up in the late 70s and 1980s in Boston, Massachusetts- specifically Dorchester,  in the neighborhoods of Savin Hill and Uphams Corner. I lived in three decker apartments, where the street and sidewalks were the playgrounds for the neighborhood kids. I grew up in a very diverse community where the one thing we all had in common was poverty. I never thought that much about diversity or money until I moved to a more white and affluent suburban town. 

When I think of my childhood hometown some key elements come to mind. I remember regularly going to the corner store for the ladies in the neighborhood when I was 5, 6, and 7  years old to buy them cigarettes. They would let me keep the change to buy wax lips and penny candy. In October, the main question for the girls was, “Are you going to be an angel or a hooker for Halloween?” Sometimes I think I must have imagined these things, but I’ve double checked with my family and it’s all true.

 In 1982 I entered The Little Miss Dorchester contest that was held in the St Margaret's Church rectory. Out of 25 girls standing on a stage, passing the microphone down the line, to the question, “Why do you want to be Little Miss Dorchester?'',  they answered because they wanted to be on the float. I was the only one that answered differently. I said, “For the challenge”. The audience applauded in response and I came in fourth place. That moment I realized recognition for me would not come from beauty but from thinking differently.

My hometown of my childhood was also filled with music. The song Love That Dirty Water by the Standells (a California band),  had lyrics so accurate and insulting that the song was banned in Boston. But in the early 80s the song had a resurgence and was allowed to play on the radio. It was a time in Dorchester where the stereotypes and insults of the neighborhood became a badge of honor. If you were from Dorchester it used to be an insult to be called a Dot Rat (Dot Being short for Dorchester), but when I was growing up there was a strange pride in saying you were a Dot Rat. On Dorchester Day when the parade would happen and the Little Miss Dorchesters would ride on the back of a pick-up truck pretending to be a float, there would be Dot Rat t-shirts and hats for sale - red ink on white cotton. There was pride in being dirty, a city survivor. 

  My best friend for the past 27 years is also O.F.D., meaning Originally From Dorchester.  We grew up in the same neighborhood, around the corner from each other, but we never met until our first day of college.  She had gone to parochial school and I had gone to public. We knew many people in common but strangely had never crossed paths until we were both out of the neighborhood. I made this crude linoleum cut print of my version of a Dot Rat as a postcard to mail to her where she now lives in Los Angeles. Although we both have taken paths out of Dot it’s important to remember where you come from.