On Getting the Most Out of Life: An Interview with Jane Grandi

On Getting the Most Out of Life: An Interview with Jane Grandi
By Carl Blumenthal

Jane Grandi, 65, has coped with mental illness since adolescence. She has found satisfaction in family life, employment, and advocacy. On the day I interviewed her, she wore a Museum of Modern Art T-shirt with pictures of famous artists on it. Monet is her favorite because his paintings of water lilies represent tranquility.

City Voices: Can you describe some of your jobs?

Jane: I worked in retail, in sales, at Abraham & Strauss, Sachs Fifth Avenue, and Franklin Simon. Did some modeling of clothes for customers. My first husband was a police officer. I was a traffic enforcement agent (“meter maid”) for 17 years. 

Voices: And education?

Jane: I graduated Midwood High School. Got 18 credits from St. Francis College. [Both in Brooklyn].

Voices: What are examples of your advocacy?

Jane: One time I convinced a jury I was on that a young guy accused of robbery shouldn’t be convicted because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Twenty-five years later I saw him again. He had become a police officer. It was the best day of my life. 

My involvement with law enforcement. I know how to talk to officers at meetings on how to treat people with mental illness. I’m against solitary confinement. It makes you mentally worse. There’s no justice for many people.

I went to [Senator] Schumer for help [when he was a congressman]. He told me I had Medicaid rights and helped me get food stamps. It’s good talking to politicians about what’s on your mind. 

Voices: What are your other activities?

Jane: I take care of my husband who’s older than me. The usual things a wife does.

Voices: Anything else?

Jane: I’m beginning to write about my experiences. A doctor once told me writing about myself wasn’t good. But now I feel better when I do. Writing relieves anxiety.

I go to support meetings here. I’ve been to ones at Baltic Street [Advocacy, Employment and Housing, Inc.].

Voices: What are your plans for the future?

Jane: I’ve taken some of the peer courses [at Academy of Peer Services]. I’ve applied to Howie the Harp [for peer specialist training] a couple of times. Withdrew my application cause I’m not sure anyone would hire me at my age.  

Voices: It sounds like you would have a lot to offer with all of your experience. Why not give it another try?

Jane: They told me if I want to I’ve got to fill out the application again. I’ll need to go to 125th Street [Howie the Harp’s Harlem office] and do it there.

Voices: Anything else you’d like to do?

Jane: I don’t think ahead the way I used to. One day at a time. I like dancing. I learned as a kid. We do ballroom dancing at the senior program where I go.

Voices: Thank you for sharing your life with us!  

Bruni in the City: Madonna Mia! I Turn 50 Soon!

Bruni in the City: Madonna Mia I Turn 50 Soon!
A Column by Christina Bruni
Make a Fresh Start in Your Forties
Has anyone seen my eyeglasses? I'm reading the book Style Evolution, about how a woman can dress herself at 40 and beyond. The author, Kendall Farr, a fashion stylist, shoots down Madonna and Demi Moore as unrealistic role models for women whose bodies are no longer pointy and perky.
Everything goes south at 40, honey. Trying to emulate women whose sole mission in life is to sculpt or scalpel themselves into perfect form is fruitless and unhealthy. Better to buy the Spanx and let nature take its course. Sure, do an exercise routine and watch what you eat. The Spanx couldn't hurt while you're at it.
Yet 40 and beyond, as a woman reaches this prime age, is not the time to still be in agony over your body or your life.
I urge every young woman reading this column to understand that 40 is the start of a new and wonderful phase of your life, and not the end of the best times. It can get better and better if you have the hope that you can live a good life into and through your sunset years.
I'm about to give a talk to senior citizens and I'm excited about this because I turn 50 in April of 2015. This seems unreal, given how I appear in my photo, yet that's how it goes: I'm soon to be in the target market for AARP.
Laughing about this is the only way to go. The kind of precious thing about it is that when you come to this age, you're no longer asked for proof of ID when you go into a liquor store. This charms me for some reason, that I can buy a bottle of Barefoot Pinot Grigio and the shopkeeper doesn't bat an eyelash.
Of course, when I was 21 and I looked like I was 14 I didn't get carded either in my neighborhood. When I was 14, I went to Butterfly, the shop on 8th Street in the Village, and bought a fake ID to get me into clubs. The ID looked fake but the bouncers didn't care.
The old drivers' licenses in New York State didn't have photos when I came of age so you could report your license lost, get a new one, and forget the old license with a birth date that allowed you to buy beer and enter bars.
What I did when the new licenses with the photos came out, I acted like a makeup artist and added blush over my photo so that it looked better than a mug shot. Strange, but true.
No. I don't think 40 is the time when a woman should give up on herself.
A woman should never give up on doing things to feel beautiful, even if she doesn't look like Madonna or Demi Moore. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, you should be the one beholding your own beauty, and admiring yourself when you get older.
The cruelest word in the dictionary is menopause. I don't even know if it's in the dictionary. I will see what happens in two years when it's bye, bye babies and hello hot flashes.
You need to have a sense of humor about getting older. Only the Grim Reaper should be grim, not you or me.
If you turn 40 and you still don't like yourself, continuing to agonize over every imagined flaw, that's not good when you have 30 more years to live. We all need to get over our jiggles and make peace with the fact that we're not Hey Nineteen anymore.
Where did those years fly? I don't know, but they're gone and they're not coming back. So I'm going to end here with this indisputable fact: if life isn’t over when you're 22 and diagnosed with schizophrenia, it certainly isn’t over at 40. You'll live to be 40, and then 40 will be a memory. So your life isn't over at 22 — it's only just begun. As hard as it is to imagine at 22, life gets better, whether you’re 40 or 50, and so on.
For most people, recovery is possible. You might think the last call has sounded on the only life you've ever known. Not so. A new life beckons, and it can be better than you ever expected.
I'll leave you with this thought: you can have a good life.
Now if you'll excuse me, I must go look for my eyeglasses. I know they're here somewhere.