“It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.” J.K. Rowling
December 26, 1996 – Potter’s Field Cemetery, New York City: On the day after Christmas, Liz Murray borrowed money for a cab ride to the small pauper’s cemetery. There was no money for a proper burial for her mother, a cocaine addict and alcoholic, who had died of AIDS. Someone donated a pine box with her mother’s name misspelled (Gene Murry) in black magic marker. On that cold, windy afternoon, Liz, age 16, vowed that her life would take a different course. As a reminder of her solemn promise, she kept a crumpled picture of her mother at age 17 in her pocket.
Elizabeth Murray was born in the Bronx, New York, in 1980 to parents who were both drug addicts. Her father, Peter, was 34, and her mother, Jean, was 22 when they met. He was her drug dealer. They were hippies, and by the early 1980s, their disco-dancing passion had morphed into serious heroin and cocaine addictions.
One of Liz’s earliest memories was watching her parents shooting up heroin in the kitchen. They didn’t try to hide it. Each month, when the welfare check arrived, they went to the local cocaine dealer first and then bought food with whatever money was left. Desperate for drug money, Liz’s mother stole the birthday money Liz’s grandmother sent her, sold her sister Lisa’s winter jacket, and sold the Thanksgiving turkey that was donated by a local church.
Tired of jokes about her shabby clothes and body odor, Liz dropped out of school at 15. When her mother died, her father was unable to pay the apartment rent, so he checked himself into a homeless shelter, leaving Liz and Lisa alone on the streets of the Bronx. Often hungry and without warm clothes, they stayed with friends, sleeping on sofas or the floor until they wore out their welcome.
Some nights, the sisters slept in apartment hallways to stay warm, and on other nights, they rode the D subway train until morning to get out of the cold. They worked part-time, bagging groceries or pumping gas to earn money for food, but they mostly ate whatever food they could scavenge.
Her mother’s death inspired Liz to return to high school. At 17, she met Perry Weiner, founder of Humanities Preparatory Academy in Manhattan, a small progressive public high school. After hearing Liz’s story, Weiner agreed to give her a chance as a student. Liz loved learning and thrived in school. By taking night classes, she finished four years of high school in two. She maintained an A average and graduated at the top of her class of 158.
Weiner took his 10 top students, including Liz, on a visit to Harvard University. While there, he leaned over to Liz and whispered, “Hey, Liz, I know it would be a stretch, but it’s not impossible; ever think about applying to Harvard?” She shook her head; her dreams weren’t that big, but he helped her apply for a New York Times scholarship for impoverished students.
Three thousand students applied for the scholarship, and Liz was one of six students who received one. In 2000, she was accepted to Harvard. Three years later, Liz left college to take care of her sick father, who died of AIDS in 2006. Then, she returned to Harvard and graduated in 2009 with a degree in psychology.
Today, 44-year-old Liz Murray is married with three children. She has founded Manifest Living, an organization that helps people find the extraordinary in their lives and she also created the Arthur Project, a mentoring program for students. Liz’s New York Times best-selling memoir, Breaking Night, was released in 2010. She is a teacher and motivational speaker who travels worldwide, sharing her journey from homelessness to Harvard.
“When my mother died, I learned that I was solely responsible for myself and that I could choose a life that was in no way limited by what had occurred in my past,” says Liz. “Every day was another chance to turn my life around. The fork in the road happens hundreds of times each day, and it’s our choices that will determine the shape of our lives.”
A beautiful story. Thanks Pete.