Pass the Mic with Lolita Wright

Meet Lolita Wright, a mother and caregiver. Lolita is never leaving Baltimore. She shares her parents' love of music and determination.

Baltimore is home for me. I was born and raised all through the Reservoir Hill area. As we say, West Side ‘til I die. 

My dad was a “girl dad” before it was a thing. A music connoisseur, too. We would listen to music, and he would say, “Cookie (my nickname), what instrument do you hear right now? That’s the most important part of the song and most people don’t even know that’s a cowbell.” I was a tomboy at heart. I played basketball on several Baltimore leagues in the rec centers—back when rec centers were open.

My mommy was a girly girl. We were polar opposites but adored each other at the same time. My mother worked as a nursing assistant. On the weekends, I would go with her. So I would observe how she cared for the nursing home residents. At lunchtime, she would say, “Go open Mrs. Smith’s milk. Make sure you put the straw in and turn it towards her.” She was teaching me how to be a caregiver.

I love caring for people, no matter what age, race, whatever. I love people, period.

The best time of Baltimore, in my opinion, was the '70s. It was more community, more respect. I lost my father at age 13, so my mother became a single parent. She worked hard to keep a roof over our head. I would have to get myself ready for school, make my own breakfast. A latchkey kid. But the neighbors would look out for me.

I got pregnant at 17. I still wish I went to law school—I wanted to be a defense lawyer. But my mother and people in the community helped me a lot. I have 27 years in nursing, as a caregiver like my mother. I love caring for people, no matter what age, race, whatever. I love people, period.

My kids are grown now, but I loved getting to know my children. I loved taking them to school, cooking them breakfast. I think it was because my mother couldn't do it for me.

In 2019, I lost my mother. On September 5th, I took her to the hospital but didn't bring her back. And from that point on, it seemed like everything went downhill. 

COVID destroyed my life. I was struggling to work, trying to keep the bills paid, then being evicted, then moving into the hotel, then coming to the shelter. I have never been homeless in my life. I never saw this coming. 

This experience is difficult. When you've been on your own for so long, and then you come to a place like this, not only is it very humbling, it's humiliating. It's stressful. It's depressing. 

I know the shelter staff don't hear thank you all the time. I give them thank you notes, like my grandmother showed me. This job is not easy for them, and me being homeless is not easy for me.

My only goal and only focus is putting in applications for housing and, you know, just checking up to see, is there any availability somewhere? I'm determined to go back to the Mondawmin area. I just want to make sure I'm in a position where I can afford it and not have to ever come back here again.

I have a storage unit filled with an apartment. I have electronic devices. I’m good. All I want is keys in my hand. A place to call my own so I can stay there until I’m ready to retire and move on with my senior years. 

Hopefully, 2026 will be better. I will not be in the shelter, and I can start a new journey. I call it Lolita Part 2. 

P.S. I wanted to add that the Weinberg Housing and Resource Center and Health Care for the Homeless have truly been my saving grace. Management, kitchen staff, operations, security and HCH medical professionals like Dr. Gray (my forever doctor) and his wonderful team providing me excellent health care during my 13 months at WHRC. I want you all to know how thankful I am to each of you. My being homeless has been one of the most difficult times in my life, but these wonderful people helped me in so many ways. When my time comes to leave WHRC, all of these men and women I will hold dear in my heart ❤️ forever.

“Pass the Mic” is a storytelling space featuring the voices and stories of people with a lived experience of homelessness.

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