There are days in which we forget where we came from- or perhaps you are where you have always been. Regardless, it is always important for us to remember our roots. When I was just a child, I would cry to my parents, asking them why I did not dress like the other children, or why everyone else had cousins in school with them and I did not. I now value the circumstances in which I was raised, because it made me who I am.
Trailer Park Hopping
My earliest memories come from living in the trailer parks of Barstow California. My excitement came from moving into bigger trailers, and at one point my parents owned one of the biggest and nicest trailers at that location. Boy was I excited! Trailer park hopping went on until I was twelve. The day that my parents bought their first home was the day I felt proudest of my parents, for they had finally achieved the "American Dream".
Swimming At The Local Pools
"La alberca esta habierta." The trailer park pool was everything! I could hardly wait until my mom was off of work. She would go to work at 5 a.m and get off at 2 p.m. I would get my bathing suit on by 11 a.m and wait by the glass door. As I saw her walk up from afar I yelled to my sister, "Ya llego mi mama." We would rush to open the door, and she would ask to sit down for five minutes before we left for the pool. Each day, she would faithfully take us swimming until the pool's closing time at ten. I would swim with my floaties and look over at her once in a while just to see her fast asleep on the plastic chair.
Babysitter?
My older sister was my babysitter. She is a year older than me so I suppose you can say she was adequate. We were suppose to stay in the house until my parents came home from work, but being that my sister has always been the rule breaker, she would go out and play with the other children-- It sure is funny thinking about her playing in the streets while her responsibility followed her.
Street Lights
My mom let us go out and play, but as soon as those street lights came on we knew that meant time to go in.
Fruits
What fruits mean to me might have a different meaning to you. Because my parents both worked, there were times in which my sister and I would run out of water. I would cry as I called my mom, who was at work at a local motel, to tell her that I was thirsty. Her fragile voice would ask if there were any fruits, and I would look around, and at times answer "yes", She said to me "Eat the fruits. They will take the thirst away."
Sports?
As I am a first generation Mexican American, my parents did not know much about sports. I always watched cheerleading and ballet movies, wishing I was rich to be able to do it too. It was not until I went to Junior High School that I was exposed to school teams. It was then I got to explore that side of me. I felt like quitting when I saw that I was taking ballet classes with younger children, but that did not stop me from persevering. It felt amazing seeing my mom at my ballet recitals. I recently went back into ballet, and I can say that it is never too late to pick up this beautiful art.
Dad?
If I ever wanted to see my dad I would have to stay up past my curfew because of his two jobs.
Today I can say that I started from the bottom. A cliché statement, but true. This is not to be boastful, but to serve as encouragement. I went from being raised under unfortunate circumstances to living in Uptown Long Beach. I went from not speaking English to having a Bachelors in one of the best Cal State universities I went from doubting myself, to conquering my fears. It truly is not about where you come from, but where you are going, and if I can do it, you can too. Remember to count your blessings and enjoy the ride!
Thanks Mom and Dad!
