A daughter’s devotion
Journal entry — September 2023
I watch as Vicki Davidson leans over and plants kisses on her mother’s face. The gentle touch helps awaken the 102-year-old, who is cocooned in linen sheets from the neck down. “Mama, you want some tomato soup?” she asks loudly while speaking the words close to her ear. The years have taken a toll on the health of the elderly woman, including her hearing. Eyes still closed, a bright smile appears when she hears her daughter’s voice.
For nearly four months, I have asked Davidson, who is affectionally known by most as Miss Vicki, about photographing her mother. Until this day, the answer has always been no. How do I tell Miss Vicki’s story and not show the woman whom she credits as her champion for education, the woman who continues to inspire her daily? I’m grateful that she has allowed me into their mother-and-daughter space today.
As I watch them interact, I am reminded of how I cared for my mother as she battled lung cancer. I understand a daughter’s devotion to the one who brought you into this world, to the one who nursed and cared for you. As it is for Miss Vicki, it was an honor for me to care for my mother, particularly in her time of need. Six months after being diagnosed, my mom was gone. My heart still aches.
The senior apartment complex where Marie Davidson has lived for the last 12 years is three traffic lights and less than two miles from where Miss Vicki has worked for 26 years as program director at Greentree-Teutonia Community Learning Center.
She dedicates her days to Greentree, a public housing complex where she is the connective tissue between kids, parents and learning opportunities. She saves her nights for her mother, who needs round-the-clock care.
She leaves no time for herself.
Her mother is mostly bedridden. A physical therapist comes in twice a week to help with mobility and, while a caregiver is with her during the day, Miss Vicki, 66, fills that gap in the evening and throughout the night. She turns her mother every three hours to ward off bedsores. For fear of oversleeping, she catnaps in a recliner in the living room.
For now, her own apartment gets little use.
The value of education, handed down from mother to daughter
Miss Vicki learned the importance of education from her mother, who taught in a segregated one-room school in West Blocton, Alabama. It was the Jim Crow South. Her parents didn't always have access to education.
The day after their wedding in 1950, Marie and Andy Davidson left the small town and headed to Milwaukee, where her husband had secured a job at A.O. Smith, a sprawling factory that made auto frames on the city's north side. They also operated Davidson’s Food Market, a neighborhood grocery store in the 1800 block of North 12th Street.
While her mother never returned to the classroom, teaching and learning remained in the forefront of the family home that Andy built, brick-by-brick, without the worries of a mortgage. The couple raised Vicki and her older brother, Steven, in a house that overflowed with love and books.
She and her brother would do homework at the kitchen table while their mom cooked. Still, for Miss Vicki, it would take some time for the value of education that her mother poured into her throughout her youth to resonate.
That realization became more evident once she became a single mother. She had a child of her own, whose future she needed to navigate.
In 1993, Miss Vicki and her 5-year-old son, Travis, moved to Greentree-Teutonia Apartments, a community of more than 700 residents that sits on 14 acres on Milwaukee’s north side.
She received a federal Section 8 housing voucher, which allows tenants to pay 30% of their income for rent. With the assistance at Greentree, she could concentrate on raising her son.
“I was a beast about education,” Miss Vicki said. “We didn’t always eat out. Sometimes he didn’t always have what he wanted, but he always got what he needed.”
Miss Vicki understands the challenges of those living at Greentree, where 86% of the households are led by single Black mothers. She found ways to create a village of supporters, especially for her son, whose father was not part of their life.
“When Dad’s not around, you don’t get to make excuses because you have people in your life who love you,” she said.
“My mom was like a coach,” said Travis, now 36 and an electrical engineer for Lockheed Martin in Dallas. “I was the star player. She put me in the right position to make the right plays. You know, the coach is trying to get the win.”
While creating a playbook for her son, Miss Vicki also developed one for herself. At 33, she enrolled at Alverno College and graduated in 1995 with a bachelor of arts in business and communication.
“I saw her doing the work," Travis said.
And her work has not stopped.
"I see what she does for my grandmother and what she does for others. She understands work ethics, so when I get a little lazy, I remember that’s not where I come from. My mom is an example and huge blessing.”
‘Positioning the next generation for success’
Journal entry — August 2023
I had an opportunity to spend time with several of the high school youth from the Greentree-Teutonia summer enrichment program away from the community. They were invited to a picnic in Pewaukee put on by Miss Vicki's church because of their outstanding performance and attendance in the summer program, which ended on Saturday. Within seconds of exiting the center's van, Ameir James-Miller; his sister Anahia, 13; and the Smith brothers, A.J., 16, Aiden, 15 and Allan, 14, spotted a basketball court, found a kickball and ran to the court for a game of two-on-two. It started to rain, but this didn't discourage them from a few more games of hoops.
As the picnic started wrapping up, Miss Vicki shared that she wasn't feeling well. I suggested that we find a nearby Walgreens to pick up something to soothe her stomach. This was the first time I had really spent time with the youth, cameras down and engaged in conversation while watching them just be teenagers. I kept thinking to myself, "What great kids." Respectful, funny and appreciative that they had been chosen for this outing.
There was a moment when they became restless, as we sat in the van in the parking lot of a Walgreens store in Pewaukee and they asked if they could go inside the store to buy some drinks and use the restroom. I was chosen as the chaperone for the short trip 50 yards away.
I treated them to snacks and, while three of the youth and I waited at the front of the store for one of the teens to return from the restroom, I began to notice the other adults in the store, who were all white and waiting in line to make their purchases, stare at us as we waited with our purchased items in bags. The teens never knew they were being watched.
While on assignment as a journalist, I always wear my press credential. Today was no different. As we waited for the one to return, I noticed that on the news rack at the front entrance was a copy of the Journal Sentinel and on the front page was my photo as the lead image. Up until this point, the teens only knew me as the "camera lady," but now I had something to show of my published work. They were so excited to see my name in print and started giving me high fives in the store.
This small act really got the others watching us in a way that was uncomfortable for me. It felt like an unwarranted judgment of me and these beautiful Black youth, with deep dark rich complexions and natural hair. I was grateful that the young people never saw what I saw. Nor did I share this with Miss Vicki, who, by the time we returned, even though she was in pain, was on the phone with Ameir's mother sharing with her about Kingdom Prep and asking whether she and Ameir's father would consider the school for him for the fall. She went on to explain about the academic programs and the wonderful male mentors at the school while taking Tums.
Once again I watched how she pushes through her own physical pain at times to care for others. I've seen the unconditional love she gives to her mother, even when her body is telling her to sit down. I've seen her struggle to make it up a flight of stairs when she could take the elevator, but she knows this is an opportunity to exercise even as her breathing is labored. In the end, it is her faith and devotion to family and the children of Greentree that supplies her with the strength to continue moving forward.
Standing on the well-polished hardwood floor in the middle of Kingdom Prep Lutheran High School’s gymnasium on an evening just two days after the church picnic with Greentree youth, Miss Vicki smiles while taking in the sights and sounds of new student registration.
With her is Ameir, one of the teens who had joined her at the church picnic.
He is there to check out the all-boy private Christian school in Wauwatosa. The evening is spent cruising from table to table meeting teachers and administrators, and becoming familiar with the school’s academic culture. Ameir stays close by Miss Vicki's side while she takes the lead at each stop, gathering background information that she hopes the shy 6-foot-1-inch incoming sophom*ore will share with his parents.
This is not part of her job description: Taking the time to scoop up a child from home to see other schools outside Milwaukee Public Schools. Surprising another student at his school with birthday gifts. Paying for a student’s bus pass so that he can get to school. It all might seem like going above and beyond the call of duty for most.
But for Miss Vicki, this isn’t just a job. It’s her Greentree calling, and it never stops.
That night's meet-and-greet set in motion a connection between Miss Vicki and school administrators that has since blossomed into an advocacy program for teens with ties to her community who attend the school.
Through the Kingdom Prep partnership, she has created an online and in-person tutoring program for Greentree youth.
“She is that bridge from school to home. She is that bridge from student to parent,” said Shawn Sprewer, assistant principal at Kingdom Prep.
"For kids to have that type of advocacy, it becomes much harder for them to lose. They know and feel real love.”
'Standing in the gap'
Journal entry — February 2024
I will never forget the words of Miss Vicki as I sat in the computer lab at Greentree-Teutonia editing photos. “No one gets to put their hands on you.” It came out of nowhere, so I thought. There was no buildup to the statement. No prior discussions. It still resonates in my ear. My first thought was that one of the residents was being abused by another partner in the home. Some of the current and former residents at GT have shared with me incidents of domestic abuse in the complex. Even with all the wonderful programs and incentives the community offers, no community is immune from trauma. The woman’s adult child has been beating her.
I had never witnessed this kind of intimate moment. Watching Miss Vicki wrap her arms around the petite woman, still in her hooded tan winter coat, indoors, showed incredible care. I'd seen her care for children, but it's easy to wrap your arms around a child. She showed the same compassion for an adult. I'll never forget the shallow sobs I heard from a distance.
Miss Vicki knows trauma when she sees it.
At a recent visit to a public school, she notices an agitated girl who had been sent to the office. She leans forward, her dark brown eyes fixed on the student, and without waiting for permission, says, "Honey, just breathe."
"You OK?" she asks.
“Yes, ma’am,” the student replies in a soft voice, as she starts to wipe away tears.
This is Miss Vicki taking on the pain of another in need. This is what she does so easily each and every day. She internalizes the trauma of others. Always wanting to help children and adults heal.
The girl tells Miss Vicki she was being "fat bullied" by a group of girls, which led to a fight. Miss Vicki understands how those who are hurting themselves may weaponize the appearance of others as a defense.
"I think she is beautiful. We as Black women carry our weight very well," she said proudly, then added: "We have enough people who do not love Black girls. How do we have time to be fighting each other?
"Everyone has value."
Miss Vicki and her staff are used to being confidantes. The Greentree-Teutonia Community Learning Center, built in 1998, is more than just classrooms and leasing office for tenants.
“It's the family outside of your family,” said Martinus Roper, assistant program director at Greentree, where he is known as "Mr. M." His family lived in Greentree when he was a child.
“Sometimes you can't tell your mama everything," he said. "Sometimes you can’t tell your daddy everything. So, you need a Mr. M. You need a Miss Vicki so that you can be heard with no judgment.”
For 26 years, Miss Vicki has been that listening ear, absorbing the traumas of others.
'Looking ahead'
The Greentree-Teutonia Community Learning Center has weathered crisis after crisis.
During the pandemic, school districts put more tablets in the hands of students for remote learning. Many of the families who used the center never returned.
When Cardinal Stritch University — which the center had partnered with for 15 years, with student mentors from their campus to tutor youth at Greentree's after-school and summer programs — closed its campus in May 2023, it left a deep void.
As technology moves forward, the center struggles to keep up. Equipment needs are ever-present. Miss Vicki and other staff wish for a gym to offer health and fitness classes, too.
Many of her former students, now adults with their own children, say she isn't nearly as tough with the current youth as she was with them.
"I've learned to let go of that tight rein," Miss Vicki said. "I was a pretty strict cookie. But I tell them life is going to be stricter on you. Everything I'm asking of you is not unreasonable and you're capable. I'm never, ever going to apologize for that."
She knows the time will come for the next generation to take the lead.
"My hope and prayer would be that someone younger than me and smarter than me would incorporate the values and insights that we have used."
Eventually, she will need to slow down. But not yet. She is a true believer: In God, in herself, in Greentree and in all the children she has yet to reach.
“I think anything is possible,” she said.
About this project
Milwaukee Journal Sentinel photographer Angela Petersonspent 15 months at Greentree-Teutonia Apartments, a public housing complex on Milwaukee's north side. Through the O'Brien Fellowship in Public Service Journalism at Marquette University, Peterson took thousands of photographs, kept a journal, and wrote stories capturing the heartache and triumph from a community that is often overlooked and misunderstood. She was assisted by Marquette students Isabel Bonebrake and Megan Woolard. Marquette University and administrators of the program played no role in the reporting, editing or presentation of this project.
Project credits
- Reporter, photographer: Angela Peterson
- Contributing reporters: Alison Dirr, Piet Levy
- Editor: Jill Williams
- Contributing editors: Greg Borowski, Ashley Luthern
- Photo editing: Sherman Williams, Berford Gammon
- Copy editing: Chris Foran, Pete Sullivan
- Marquette O'Brien assistants: Isabela Bonebrake, Megan Woolard
- Design: Kyle Slagle, Krista Wilcox
- Social media: Ridah Syed
