Foxy

by Pam Grier

  Lance, however, was in a transitional phase. I encouraged him to take this time and write that novel he’d always dreamed about. I really loved him, I knew that he loved me, and when he got a great new job, I was thrilled.

  The turning point came when a wealthy friend of the family invited Lance to vacation in the south of France. God knew Lance needed a vacation, and so did I, but there was a catch.

  “I’ve just been invited to sail through the south of France,” he said.

  “Wow,” I said, “that sounds amazing. When do we leave?”

  “We don’t,” he said glumly.

  “I wasn’t invited, was I?” I asked him.

  “I’m not going,” was all he said.

  I felt a sinking feeling. I knew he wanted to love me, and I had hoped he would remain my hero and allow me to love him back.

  But after much dissent and arguing, Lance was so frustrated, he blurted out, “Pam, you’re just not country club. I’ve lost too much because of you. You’re just not my marrying kind or even a life partner.”

  I was furious and humiliated. “After this many years, you just figured out I’m not your marrying kind? I asked you years ago if I were a sexual fetish. You could have been honest and we could have just had some fun. But instead of saying good-bye as friends, you led me on,” I retorted.

  “I still love you,” he said.

  “Well, I guess that isn’t enough.”

  If being with me was not going to work out, it was time to look elsewhere. I only regretted having wasted so much time.

  CHAPTER 39

  You Say Good-bye, I Say Hello

  While I watched my relationship with Lance fall apart, we got the news that the sixth season of The L Word would be our last. We were all disappointed, because there were so many issues that we had not yet taken on. I could envision at least two more seasons full of sizzling topics that were both current and controversial.

  For example, I read an article about a Middle Eastern lesbian couple in Toronto who were on the run from their families. Their families’ staunch Middle Eastern views on life were that lesbianism was an absolute disgrace, punishable by death, and these women feared for their lives. Unfortunately, being on the run from societal and gender prejudices was a common theme among women in general, and lesbians in particular.

  Then there was the California lawmaker who was determined to dissolve the fifteen thousand legal gay marriages performed in 2008 and repeal the “equal rights for all” law. It would have been a great episode to see the reactions of same-sex newlyweds across the state, but that was not to be.

  While we filmed our last season of The L Word, we were all keenly aware of an imminent loss. It was a bittersweet period of deep introspection, as I had constant sentimental reflections about a family of people who were as close to me as anyone I had ever known. We had shared deep intimacies, we had given each other advice, we truly cared about each other’s relatives, and we were part of each other’s dreams. Not a day went by, even when we were on hiatus, that I didn’t think about Kate’s new kitchen or Jennifer’s triathlon or Laurel’s marriage and the birth of her child, or Mia’s book, or Ilene’s children. I also deeply cared about the Showtime executives who put their reputations on the line during each season to continue this revolutionary show about women.

  Now we were being canceled, and it felt like someone was stripping away my family. And yet, I still had my memories. The idea of the end of the series was a deeply meaningful and emotional experience for all of us, so to cope I increased my volunteer work. It seemed that despite my disappointments and gargantuan challenges, I had reached a point in life where I felt mostly gratitude.

  I was grateful to my mother for raising me with the right values.

  I was grateful to the military for having exposed me to so many different experiences and cultures during my childhood.

  I was grateful to the men in my life for the lessons I learned and the inner strength I mustered to deal with them in a direct and honest way.

  I was grateful for the roles I was offered and the lessons I learned from other actors and directors along the way.

  Most of all, I was grateful for my life. I was a cancer survivor, and I got to wake up every day, take a deep breath, and create beauty.

  In the wake of so much to feel good about, it was only natural that I would also feel the urge to give back. I continued my work with the no-kill animal shelter People and Animals Living Synergistically (PAALS), where Lance and I had offered our services starting a few years back. PAALS needed so much, like towels, sheets, kitchen appliances, pet food, and money, to keep their doors open, and I did what I could. I met with the owners of a very successful horse show who for many years had donated their proceedings to PAALS for these unfortunate abandoned pets and homeless people who cared for the animals. I had felt like an abandoned creature myself more times than I cared to remember, so I really understood the agony of being left out in the cold.

  I also joined a group who rescued horses for an inner-city riding program to help build self-esteem in physically challenged and underprivileged kids and adults. The miraculous woman who ran this program, Bonnie, had been stricken with multiple sclerosis, epilepsy, and cancer, and she was 80 percent blind. Still, she stood out in the hot sun when need be, working with people, both ill and well, who wanted desperately to get up on the back of a powerful horse.

  While on The L Word, I met a rep named Pam Derderian from a product placement company who convinced Subaru to donate an Outback SUV to the horse program. They donated one to PAALS as well (hell, I could have used a free Outback!), and as I observed Bonnie weakening by the day, I realized that we were all one unexpected bump on the head away from where she was. Each time I saw her, I gained more courage to go on, always asking myself, If I were her, how would I deal with it? In the end I learned to fly from the wings of this amazing angel.

  I had another opportunity to give back when I shot Holy Smoke with Kate Winslet. I got a call from a marketing man who had shot several rap videos for some huge hip-hop stars. I had met Snoop Dogg along my travels, and many of the hip-hop artists had recognized me and helped to keep me a visible icon and encouraged me with my career. When the marketer Chris Latimer told me about his charity, Hip Hop 4 Humanity, I asked how I could help.

  Our first outreach was to raise funds to feed the homeless a Thanksgiving dinner in Manhattan. I called around to the various record companies and asked for donations. They were generous. Then I called the Weinstein brothers, Harvey and Bob, who had produced Jackie Brown at Miramax Films. Would they be interested in giving a small donation, like five hundred dollars or so, to our cause? The Weinsteins not only said yes, but they matched the donations from all the record companies. In the end, with the help of prison chefs from Rikers Island, we fed as many as twenty-five thousand people on Thanksgiving, with food left over for two more days.

  There I was with a group of world-famous hip-hop artists in downtown Manhattan, feeding dinner to people who were desperately hungry and asked for extra food to take back to their loved ones. I gave them as much as they could carry, knowing that I could just as easily have been that desperate myself. When a crippled woman with only one glove recognized me, she said, “Aren’t you that movie star?”

  She was waiting in line to eat, and I said, “Not today I’m not. Today I’m here to serve you. Would you like some mashed potatoes, fried chicken, and green beans with biscuits?”

  My volunteer work, a mainstay in my life, helped me cope with the loss of both a great love, Lance, and a family of women, the cast of The L Word. Our show had had such success—what other series’ premieres were attended across the nation by sold-out crowds? I was proud to have been a part of a project that woke people up to a world about which they knew very little. The women demonstrated their commitment to being women first and lesbians second, so I always felt like I was in the mix. As part of a force to help people feel less threatened by something that was different, I was h
onored to help establish an image of character, integrity, and dignity among all women, no matter our sexual persuasion.

  While I shot the last season of The L Word and went on the never-ending publicity interviews and personal appearances, I felt my losses keenly. I had hoped for more time with Lance and the show, but we don’t get to choose the cards we’re dealt. We do get to choose how we feel about it, though, and how we get through it.

  Today, I have to admit that I was hugely disappointed in Lance. But I was even more disappointed in myself for not digging deep enough to have gotten the message sooner. True, Lance and I had interesting discussions about life and love. We read and debated the book John Adams, and we also read the contemporary works of Henry Louis Gates Jr. I began to fill in missing parts of an education I had been denied when I was growing up, and I have to say that Lance was instrumental in changing the way I looked at the world. But I have a hard time reconciling the time I spent with him, years when I could have been building a foundation with someone who could truly be a partner.

  As for my career, while I regretted the end of a fantastic series, I could only look forward to what was coming next. Experience taught me that my best roles had come suddenly, in circumstances that were often mysterious and beyond my imagination. While I was waiting, there was no place like home.

  As we women all said good-bye for the last time, vowing never to lose touch, I was ready to go back home, groom my horses, shovel snow, grieve my losses, celebrate my joys, and anticipate what might be coming down the road. Life had always been relatively good to me, offering me some pretty intense lessons as well as new situations and opportunities that were mine for the taking. I usually took them, anxious for the next experience, since leaving one phase of life with no bitterness usually leads to the wonder of the next one. It just keeps on coming, and we have only to stand up and embrace the newness with positive anticipation and a good sense of humor. When the world seems to be getting gray and shutting down, the next day always comes, bringing with it a whole new set of possibilities, which hopefully we can meet with an open heart.

  In the words of the fabulous Beatles:

  You say good-bye.

  I say hello.

  Epilogue

  It’s 6:00 a.m. and I just headed from my house to the barn under the rising sun. I miss the times when Lance used to bring us two cups of tea, and we would sit in front of the barn under the rising sun. The light is beginning to poke its head above the horizon, and I can hear my sweet horses neighing for me. I smile as I watch my dogs chasing bunnies across the field. Most mornings, before breakfast, I’m in the habit of visiting the barn, feeding my rescued horses, and stroking their beautiful long manes and the soft spots on their muzzles.

  When the sun and moon are switching places in the sky, it’s a perfect time to think about my life and how it might unfold over the coming years. When I look back, I can say without hesitation that I have stepped up and met my challenges with as much courage as I could muster. I have had my share of tragedies, but I also have had amazing opportunities in life, most of which I turned into great achievements as a single woman, always doing my best to avoid being grandiose or arrogant. I have gained whatever knowledge I could, I have come to know a variety of cultures from around the world, and I have survived as a human being and a woman as I lived up to my strengths and my imperfections.

  “Don’t mess with imperfection,” the late Conrad L. Hall, Oscar-winning cinematographer several times over, told a friend of mine. I took his words to heart and have always strived to be the best me I could be, perfect and imperfect.

  My humble ranch in Colorado continues to be my sanctuary for family and friends in a chaotic world. I like being out of the mainstream, with my mother, sister, and brother all living about an hour away, and my bout with cancer helped me gain strength and a much greater passion for living healthy—by necessity. I have had to toughen up both mentally and physically to thrive in a rural and agricultural environment. But while I give up some of the amenities and services that we get in the city, I reap great benefits from drinking fresh well water without chemicals, eating nutritious food, and breathing good, clean air. When I saw how the chlorine and pollution dried up my hair and caused it to break off when I lived in the city, I could only imagine what these impurities were doing to me internally.

  I walk back to the house in the burgeoning light and brew some South African red bush tea, my favorite at the moment. I never imagined my life would be like this when I was still young, eager to conquer the world and learn about everything in it. I thought that by now I would have a husband, some wonderful children, and an Ivy League education. These were my dreams, but the fact that they did not come true does not discourage me.

  To be perfectly honest, some days I feel like I missed out on having children and creating my own nuclear family. On other days, I’m so overwhelmed with writing, acting, and caring for my home and my animals, I wonder how I would ever manage having children. Either way, my life has been full and exciting. It’s never too late for love, and there are always children who need parents, a good home, and an education. I also have my sister’s and other friends’ children to help raise.

  I do not feel embittered by anything in my life, partly because my mother made sure I knew better and partly because I see life as a classroom and the experiences within it as lessons. All I can hope is that I use those lessons to be better prepared for what is still to come. I believe we can dream until we take our last breath, and I have plenty of dreams that can still come true. I see life as a free-form dance, and we are the choreographers. One day, you’re strong and lean, running six miles a day. You don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs. And then, all of a sudden, you have cancer. There’s no way to prepare for it, but now that you’re in it, a saving grace is to be grateful for what you have.

  I see it all in the form of seasons: a season to plant and a season to grow, a season to do personal preparation and a season to reap the benefits of life and give back to others. Whichever season I’m in, however, I look to my heroes to inspire me.

  My list of heroes begins with my mother, Gwendolyn, who taught me to forgive discrimination. Without that lesson, I might have turned into a bitter woman, a victim of life, instead of becoming the strong-willed, compassionate, individual thinker that I am today. My mother showed me that while prejudice may be alive and kicking in some areas of the world, we are in reality a multiracial world that requires great patience and understanding.

  President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama are my heroes, too, as they exhibit the desire and the ability to listen to others and to respect them. They appear to be curious and intelligent people who have a great level of selflessness and are deeply committed to the creation of a kinder, more compassionate, and color-blind world.

  I owe a great deal to Oprah Winfrey, another hero of mine, who graced me with an invitation to her Legends Luncheon, where I sat across from Michelle Obama. That afternoon, Mrs. Obama told me that her husband, Barack (had I ever heard of him?), was considering a run for president. During that luncheon, I learned from and mingled with some of the most powerful African American women of our time. I admire Oprah for being a catalyst in creating an inclusive world while encouraging millions of people worldwide to do the same. May her efforts help melt the walls of discrimination, racial hatred, and gender bias.

  I also see feminists Gloria Steinem and the late Bella Abzug as heroes, as well as Shirley Chisholm and the late Barbara Jordan. They supported women in breaking down the walls between them and making decisions for themselves, instead of letting men decide things for them. They showed me that I had choices, that I could get married or not, that I could have children or not, and that society does not have the right to judge me as inferior because I don’t have a husband or live in a more traditional manner.

  With inspiration from many people along the way, I have learned to look at the world and say, “This is what is inside of me. This is my life, which I am
free to create for myself. I had only a year of college but I take online courses to further my education. I didn’t get married but I have wonderful men and lovers in my life, anyway. I learned that I am capable of loving someone with everything in me. I didn’t have children but there are too many children without parents in the world, as it is.

  Perhaps the greatest gift of all is my freedom—freedom to wake up each day and take it as it comes. I intend to keep on acting. I still have the artistic passion for it, which now has extended past just acting and has gone on to writing, directing, and developing shows. I never intend to retire unless illness forces me to, because I love having a purpose. The greatest part of being an artist is that we never retire. We can continue to create our art until we take our last breath.

  These days, I love sitting down in a coffee shop in Sonoma with my dear friend Paula Gentry, overlooking the vineyards and chatting and discussing politics. I love hiking, biking, fishing, and enjoying the beauty of the countryside. I also love running through Central Park with my dogs. What if I had been born in the Sudan? What if I’d lived my whole life on a dirt floor, afraid of the militia rushing through and murdering my family?

  I consider myself one of the most fortunate women in the world, and I’d like to leave my readers with a few pearls of wisdom that I learned the hard way:

  Never take a gift for granted.

  Pay attention to and respect other people, cultures, and lifestyles.

  Never lose your curiosity.

  Apologize sincerely when you’re wrong, and ask for forgiveness. When you don’t, it gets worse. When you do, it gets better.

  Be excited about life, claim your place in the big picture, and always follow your passion.