Where I'm From

Where I'm from there is a lot of art, family is important, and children play outside.

Now, although I've never visited nor do I remember what the Mercado looks like , it's also part of where I'm from. I do, however, have a picture of my "bautizo" where you can see part of the inside of a church named El Sagrado Corazón.

I also found another picture where I'm surrounded by "pichones" outside my father’s home. I was born in Iguala Guerrero, Mexico on a holiday that only Mexicans celebrate with pride, well at least that's what I'm told; my parents say it is kind of like the Fourth of July only better. Because of this my grandparents and even my parents often called me their "banderita".

To my parents Iguala was their homeland-the place they both grew up in and were raised to be amazing human beings. It is also the place where they learned the importance of the word "familia." To me, however, Iguala is just another place on the map. Iguala Guerrero is a small city not too far from "El DF," or, if we want to be more specific, "El Distrito Federal," and it is about an hour or two from one of the most beautiful places that tourists like visit: Acapulco, Guerrero.

I'm proud of my roots, but I grew up in Houston, Texas where my parents reunited after being a part for year. They traveled miles to reunited at "la frontera."

My mother didn’t quite have it easy because not only did she have to worry about making it herself, but she also needed her child to make it.

She was only 17, with a middle school education and a 7-month old child. Thankfully, my mother did not travel alone.  My father’s cousins traveled along and really helped her get through the days and nights it took us to get to the "frontera."

My mother doesn't like to talk about those nights. She says it was the hardest and scariest time she went through.   We had to constantly keep moving, and she had to carry a crying baby.

It was hard to carry her child in her harms for miles with only 15-minute breaks in between. When we finally made it to the "frontera," she realized we had to cross the river;  she didn’t know how to swim, but what she feared the most was that her child would drown.

My cousins were very helpful. They carried me across. Yes, we are what people often refer to as "wetbacks" or "mojados." Only, I guess you can literally say that about me because I did get my back wet.

My parents met at a very young age.  My mother was 13 and my father was 17. They often reminisce and ramble on about how great and beautiful Iguala was. They tell us stories of the places they often visited such the famous "discotec." It was very hard on both of my parents to leave their life, parents, and their home to move to a whole different country.

The first couple of years were the hardest for all of us. We lived in a one bedroom apartment with ten other people. My parents bedroom was a closet room where the only thing that fit was a twin-sized mattress.

All the clothes I owned were given to me by people who met my parents and knew about our situation.

Things were hard, but today I can say that we have been very blessed and have met so many people who have helped us get where we are. My parents traveled miles, made many sacrifices to travel to a country where they believed that their children would have better opportunities and an education. Therefore, we make sure we make them proud everyday with every decision we make.