“Hey, I’ll never take you to something that you won’t like…”
Confident words coming from someone who—as far as I know—couldn’t see the future. (My Dad [RIP] felt differently.)
But she knew what she liked—therefore, what we would like. That’s always been the awareness of my dear mother, Charis Bowling—whose taste and judgment we’ve trusted from the very beginning when it came to entertainment, arts, politics, and pop culture.
Roots & Influence
Mom grew up in a very traditional West Indian family: a Methodist minister for a father and a homemaker mother who was active in church business and even wrote her own plays as a hobby. Creativity ran through the family. My cousin, Rupert Crosse, on my grandfather’s side, pursued a career in acting in the ’50s and ’60s—and was even nominated for an Academy Award, as I’ve shared in other stories.
I believe his involvement in film, paired with my mother’s introduction to American culture in the 1950s, kept her tuned into what was hip and happening. When she described her college years, she never made it seem like she felt like an outsider—even though her upbringing was different from African-American culture. Both she and my father embraced the culture—and, in turn, were embraced by it.
This early exposure indoctrinated me into always feeling like I belonged in Black American culture and its creative expressions.
We Were Never “Other”
I never once heard Mom or Dad speak about Black Americans as if we were different or “other.”
Yet we carried deep pride in our Caribbean and African roots. That mix—the merging of cultures, the blending of heritage—is what shaped my childhood.
The diversity of our first neighborhood, Chestnut Hill, mirrored the diversity of sound in our home:
From The Jackson 5 to Cat Stevens, from Cleo Laine to The Carpenters, from The Mighty Sparrow to soul and funk. One of my mom’s closest friends, Ms. Verna Anderson, was married to Cody Anderson (RIP)—the program director of WDAS, one of the East Coast’s biggest radio powerhouses—so trust, our musical range was elite.
She Knew What We’d Love
It was Mom who introduced us to film—and I’ll never forget her words:
“I’ll never take you to a film you won’t like.”
And once she said it—I believed her.
She took me to everything—from foreign films and big-budget blockbusters to comedies and children’s movies. And she never shushed me. Never once. I could ask a million questions from opening credits to end scenes, and she answered every single one. That made me feel seen, heard, important—and built a bond that only deepened.
Museums & Memberships
My mother’s love of museums rubbed off on us. Wherever we traveled, we found our way to one. One of my most memorable experiences was the King Tut Exhibit in 1978 in NYC—it was a really big deal.
A moment that still makes us laugh today:
We got a Franklin Institute membership, which came with lounge access (cookies, snacks, all that). Looking down from the balcony at the general attendees, my mother jokingly said:
“We are members… and you’re not.”
Classic Mum.
Concerts, Culture, and Curiosity
Mom took us to our first concert—DeBarge at Six Flags Great Adventure in 1983. Life-changing.
I had never seen women throw hotel keys and underwear at the stage before. Never seen that many Kangol hats in one place either. The energy was wild. While the women were screaming, the brothers were chilling—and my mother was, as usual, trying to introduce me to some girls my age (I was too shy back then).
Then came Fresh Fest 1985. Yo. I could write a whole piece just on that night. But what I will say is: when some wild teenagers started acting up, my brother and I were shook… until my Mom stepped in and checked them. They backed down. Nobody wanted smoke with My Mum.
The Stage & The Page
From b-boy concerts to ballet, from modern dance to poetry, Mum had us there.
She took us to plays like:
- The Tap Dance Kid
- Eubie!
- The Wiz
… and storytelling sessions with legends like Linda Goss and Sonia Sanchez.
There was something special about dressing up to attend performances that inspired, informed, and uplifted. This was the ‘70s and ‘80s—when culture was currency. And once again, it was Mom guiding us through it all—exposing and explaining.
Perspective & Presence
Growing up in the materialistic ‘80s, it was easy to get caught up in “things.” But my Mom had her own wisdom:
“When your friends show you the ‘things’ they’ve gotten, ask them if they’ve ever been taken overseas like you have.”
Whew. That stopped my questioning real quick.
The Heart of It All
Everyone knows how much I adore my mother—but this little piece only scratches the surface. Her curation, her courage, her culture, and her heart continue to shape me in ways that words will never fully capture.
Love you, Mum. Always.