A Reflection of My Past

Featured Song: "Vienna" - Billy Joel

Growing up, I always had older friends. I went to a pretty unique elementary school, and I was always around people who were a few years older than me. And some of those people have turned into lifelong friends that I still hang out with to this day. They're some of my favorite people in the world, and I'm so happy every single day that I've met them. But if it's taught me anything, it taught me that there are both good and bad things about having friends who are older than you. On the one hand, if they are people you have known for a long time, it’s nice to see everyone grow up and move into a new chapter of their lives. I I love seeing my friends graduate college, get job promotions; some of them are even getting married and even have kids. They're starting their whole lives. On the other hand, it can be  hard to see their lives begin while waiting for my own to take off. Sometimes I find myself wanting to fast forward a few years to be on track with everyone else around me. It’s sometimes difficult to remember that my time will come when everyone else’s time is already here.

But the one thing that I really love about having older friends, even if it's just for a few years, is that I always have someone to look up to as a role model, whether they’re aware of it or not. There are friends that I've had for 10+ years that I take inspiration from, and look up to, for choosing to pursue their passions regardless of the risk. They're adamant about being true to their character and true to themselves, and that's something that took me a while to learn but that I'm never forget. I have friends that I've made much more recently that have that same drive and have that same dedication to their job, but that are also just fun and that taught me how to live in the moment. How to smile, how to take pictures, how to be okay with slowing down a bit, being on your own track, and getting to where you want to go at your own pace.  

When you come from a family that isn't very close, you miss out on having those family members being those people that you look up to. Even if you have older siblings, sometimes you are just following two very different paths in life. And it's not a bad thing, by any means. It's simply a side effect of growing up. But I love being able to have connections to people, whether they're related to me or not, that are following the same path that I am. That have the same ambitions that I do, and that have the same experiences that I do. It was and continues to significantly reassuring to be around people that I can relate to on a multitude of levels. I love seeing these people being in the same spaces as I am, and being successful in their own professions and in their own lives. It makes even what feels like the worst times feel not so bad, and gives me hope that if they can get through it, then I can too.

Plus, living away from home can be difficult, and there are things that come up in life that you would want to ask your friends, but maybe not your parents or your parental figure. It definitely is not always the best advice, but that’s also part of growing up. Just because they're a few years older than me doesn't mean they know exactly what they're talking about, but it's nice to know that that person is still going to be there, even if you do make a mistake. And there are times when that's the only way to learn how to do things in life, is just to make mistakes. Even if it feels like sometimes my life takes a while to get started, it's nice to take a minute and take a breather with those same people, and just enjoy the time that we're living in now. Have fun with celebrations, promotions, birthdays; and for a minute, we feel like kids again. As I approach college graduation, I realize there’s really no need to rush anything. Some people are just in different phases of their lives and that's completely okay. What's important is to take advantage of the time I have now, share that time and those experiences with  people that I care about, and just make it last as long as I can.

I really love John Hughes movies because that is entirely the point of most of his movies. Growing up can suck, a lot. And you make a lot of mistakes and you learn a lot of things, but what's important is the people that you have around you. And in the words of Ferris Bueller, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around every once in a while, you might miss it."

Featured Song: "The Texas Fight Song" - The Texas Longhorn Band

Saturday football has always, and will forever, bring me an incomparable level of joy and comfort. Getting to see your favorite team on TV, in big time games, making incredible plays, and spending time with people who feel the same way about your team is such a fun and fulfilling experience. It makes it feel like so much more than just a game. There's something to be said about being amongst family and friends and watching and supporting your favorite team. It's so nice to spend time with people you care about, connecting and having fun. And for those 4 quarters, getting to share the same experience.

Saturday morning football meant that my mom and I got to spend a few hours together growing up, and is one of the highlights of my childhood. But of course, when you're a kid, it's difficult to catch on to all of the nuances of a new game. I think I would ask my mom, on average, 30 questions a game.

“Mom, what does the whistle mean?”

“Mom, how did the other team get the ball?”

“Mom, what does that flag mean?”

I know I annoyed probably every fiber of her being with my questions. Especially the questions that I managed to come up with in the middle of a 4th down play in the 4th quarter of a tied game with just seconds to go. There was a lot of hushing, but she had an immense amount of patience to deal with my questions every minute or so. You know, it can be difficult to understand the rules; there are a lot of shushing going around. “Give me a minute and I’ll explain,” was my mom's favorite sentence, but it's very easy to understand when your team is doing well. 

When it was good, it was damn good. There was cheering, high fives, replays, the whole nine yards (pun fully intended). You spend years watching your favorite team grow and develop, and after a while, I began to feel as though it was my own team. And in a lot of ways, it really did become my team.

“Mom, there’s a game tomorrow, they're playing Baylor.”

“I know, we have to be up early.”

We had to be up early. I loved knowing I was automatically included in the plans. From then on, we had our thing. Saturday College Football. The big games were the most fun, especially the games that were my mom's favorite. Games against A&M, Baylor, Alabama, Arkansas. And you cannot forget about OU. The big games became my favorite too, but being with my mom was all that really mattered. I watched my very first game at 5 years old, with Colt McCoy playing as the starting quarter back. As much as I loved watching football on TV, there's nothing that beats being able to go to a game in person. Being in the stands, amongst fans, students, and alumni; it was one of the most fun experiences in the world, being a fan for 17 years now. The very first time my mom and I went to go see a game at the stadium, it had been 28 years since she was last there. I may not have gone to Texas, but the Texas Longhorns is our team. Our Saturday morning in Austin, watching the team play against Kansas state, will be one of my favorite memories of all time.

That has been the best Saturday morning yet.  

Featured Song: "Fast Car" - Tracy Chapman

I simultaneously love and hate driving around. I love the freedom and rush of joy I get from being out on the open road with the possibility of going anywhere I want. I love that I can visit places and people that make me happy at any given moment. I love being able to arrive and leave a function whenever I want, and not be bound to any place so long as I have a full tank of gas and $20 in my pocket.

But there are some downsides to driving and owning a car. They can sometimes be unreliable, require regular maintenance, and can be extremely expensive to fill up. People will judge you if you have an old car, an unreliable car, and an oversaturation of cars can lead to an overstimulation of smells and sounds. 

I have personally always had an adoration for cars. When I was very young, my father was a mechanic and was considered especially talented. He knew just by the rev of an engine or the firing of an ignition what work needed to be done on the car. If it wasn’t for a number of his own personal issues, he could have been very successful and owned his own shop. And funny enough, almost all of his brothers are also mechanics. They all learned the trade at a very early age, and some went on to make entire careers on the work. Growing up around them, I learned the basics of combustion engines. I learned the basics of how all parts of the engine worked. I learned about fluid systems and suspension systems and the importance of making sure to keep a clean vehicle. My mom also picked up a few things from my dad, and she taught me how to change a tire, how to replace windshield blades, jump start a battery, and the importance of regular maintenance to maintain the overall health of my car. 

Since I can remember, my mom always drove a manual transmission car. I always liked feeling the gears change in the backseat, and after a while I would imagine that I was the one driving and changing gears like we were in a race car. I had to restrain myself in the back seat from wanting to pull the shift stick or bother my mom about moving it, not really understanding what it was doing. Of course, I learned much later on how important it was and was glad I never attempted to mess with it. But that feeling of being in a race car and driving around never left. When I learned how to drive, I started on a little 6-speed Honda. There were many trials and tribulations learning to drive, and often my mom and I ended up frustrated at each other. But even when some days were worse than others, the feeling of wanting to hit the road whenever I wanted was stronger than any sort of disappointment from the day.

I didn’t pass the practical portion of the exam on the first try. Or the second. It actually took me 4 times to get it right, but practice makes perfect, right? I didn’t really mind that much, I still got my license. I was able to drive my moms car around for a while until I managed to buy my own. Her nickname is “The Blueberry” and she’s a 5-speed Honda. She’s 12 years old, is a bit sunburnt, and still has a CD player, which is my favorite feature. She does need a bit of maintenance that I’m working on getting done, and has taken me to all of my favorite places. From the bookstore down the street to Austin to my mom’s house, I know that I can go wherever I need to whenever I want and help out my family when necessary. She is my first car, and I plan to keep her running for as long as I can. Although I do love the smell and feel of a new car, I will cherish and love my very first car, I think as most people do. We’ve made a lot of great memories together and almost 2 years later, I’m looking forward to going to new places and making many more.

Featured Song: "Ashamed" - Omar Apollo

When I was growing up, I had different birthdays in mind that I considered “milestones” for how “grown up” I was. The first one was 13, when I would officially be considered a teenager.  I got over that one pretty quickly. Then I was really looking forward to 16, because for whatever reason, all the kids in high school movies were always 16 and had friends who could drive and part time jobs. 16 always seemed like the age that most people got a little bit more freedom than before. Unfortunately for me, none of my friends would be able to afford a car for another few years and most of us were too stressed by classes and extracurriculars to really focus on anything other than that. 18 is always the big one that I think most people look forward to. This is the age that is always touted as “adulthood” but seldom is. By the time I was 18, everyone around me was focused on getting into college and graduation and prom and final exams. I will say that I got to do a lot of cool stuff when I finally turned 18. I got to go to fantastic concerts and great dance halls on weekends. It was also the easiest year of high school for me, and I got to spend a lot more time with my best friend at the time. Senior year of high school will always be a special time for me and will hold great memories. 

After 18, I just kind of existed and went through the motions a bit for the next few years, pining for my 21st birthday. There were some great times in between then, and I made a great group of friends in my first year in college and had a fantastic time. But my 21st was a time to remember and it meant a lot to me personally that I had finally reached this milestone. It was the first time in my life that I really felt like an adult. I won’t be shy and admit that I did go out and enjoyed my birthday to the fullest. I was surrounded by friends and people I trusted, and we had a great time going out and having maybe a few too many. But apart from being of drinking age, that year of being 21 was the first time I started to really plan for my future. Before, I had planned the events of my life as milestones and goals to achieve.

Turn 13 and get into a good high school? Done. Start training and getting in good physical shape to make varsity soccer? Done. Build up a good resume and take AP classes for college? Done. Turn 18? Done.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that these short-term goals were for survival. I know it may seem like a bit of an exaggeration, but that’s truly how I saw it. Every achievement was so I could get one step closer to moving out of the life I was raised in. I didn’t have money growing up and wouldn’t have the education I do if it wasn’t for my mom and the need to earn a better life for myself and my family. When I was interviewing for college admissions, my least favorite question was “where do you see yourself in 5 years?” As someone who grew up in a constant state of surviving, I could never find a genuine answer to that question because I never had the luxury to think about it. It wasn’t until after my 21st that I started to form real answers to that question. For me, it was the first time I realized I had my entire life ahead of me and no real clue what to do. But it wasn’t a scary or daunting thought; it was incredibly freeing and exciting. I could go anywhere and do anything. I could do whatever I wanted in the best possible way.

With my newfound free will, I proceeded to enjoy the night to the max. And I started to form a plan or at least an idea of what I wanted to do in life. I can say that since then, I’ve become very good and honest about answering the 5-year plan question. And while there have been a few bumps in the road, its been generally a happy and exciting time.

I love it when people turn 21. And as a former bartender myself, I know how obnoxious people who first turn 21 can be. And by no means is it an easy year, and there is plenty of room to mess up. But there's still plenty of room to get it right. But I will volunteer to babysit whoever needs it so they can enjoy their night the way I enjoyed mine. And part of me hopes that afterward, they have a moment of clarity and happiness like I did, and seize the opportunity to build a life for themselves that they are happy and proud of.

Featured Songs: "Yo Te Necesito" - Los Bukis; "Them Changes" - Thundercat

What’s funny is that growing up, I really didn’t think about food all that deeply. Sure, I knew what foods were good for you and what foods weren’t, but for the most part I just ate whatever I wanted. I knew the snacks I liked, the fruits that were my favorite, and the meals that I always thought were the best no matter how often I had them. My family also had special dishes and treats for different holidays and events. For Christmas, there were always strawberry shortcakes in the morning that my grandma and mom and my aunt would make. We would then go over to spend time with my dad’s family, and there would be pozole and tamales and a whole spread of different foods. And with my dad having 3 sisters and 5 brothers, these family gatherings were no small matters. Most of the women in my family were in the kitchen, but everyone talking amongst themselves and catching up about the past months. The meals were just as lively, sharing stories about childhood and growing up and getting everyone up to speed on the latest baby or ill family member. This would be every meal, a ceremony of sorts that brings everyone together and for a few moments, the only people that exist in the world are at the dining table.

I always watched as the adults spent time together and listened in on conversations that were not meant for my ears. Even when the meals were over, there was dessert and coffee to be shared and more conversations to be had. They would sit for hours and talk about everything and nothing at the same time. For special nights, like Christmas and New Years, the drinks evolved into something a little stronger. But most of the time, it was just adults enjoying each other’s company. I didn’t really understand what they were talking about sometimes, but I always wanted to be a part of the table. My aunt would make hot chocolate for the kids, and while my cousins were off playing or watching a movie, I sat at the far end of the table or in a corner listening in on everything being said. They were always happy, laughing, smiling and I wanted so badly to be a part of that. Thinking back on it, it was like watching 18-year-olds gossiping at a table in the mall. For a split second, everyone is a kid again. The night ended when the kitchen was cleaned, and the table was reset.

After a while, my family went their separate ways and just got busy with life. The big family dinners were less and less frequent until they stopped all together. But my mom still always tried to make sure that our immediate family always sat for dinner. To this day, she cooks us our favorite meals for our birthdays, and meals that our family members brought over from Guatemala. She makes caldo and pozole on cold days, and the best black beans you’ll find anywhere. The ceremony of food is what keeps us and our culture alive and together. It took me a long time to realize how important and significant sharing a meal really is.

A few years ago, a friend of mine would hold weekly dinners for our friends to come over and spend time even though we were all living in different places at the time. They would make dishes that were significant to them and their childhood, and wanted to share with everyone they cared for and who cared for them. We would pitch in a bit of money for the ingredients, and I would often go over to help with prep whatever they needed. We’d have coffee and catch up while chopping onions or tomatoes or potatoes. We’d have music playing, the kitchen filled with rich aromas, and slowly our friends would join in on the fun. We’d get to hear everyone’s new stories, reminisce old ones, be introduced to new partners and friends, and really connect for the first time in a long time. We’d eat, chat more, and have coffee and dessert to end the night off well. Sometimes we’d sit outside, like a lot of the older people in our community do on nice summer nights. Sometimes we’d sit in the living room and watch movies we'd all talked about for years, but never committed to watching until that night. We’d talk of love, heart break, loss, and everything in between. For one moment I felt like my mom, and everyone around the table were long-lost family members.

The group has changed over the years, and we see each other less often. There are new faces and some that are missing. Just like my family, sometimes you get busy with life or just grow apart. But getting to have those meals and making those memories, it’s a great comfort to know that we were a little family if only for a brief moment.

Featured Song: "Photograph" - Ringo Starr

There’s a weird moment in middle school where, I think girls especially, do not want their photos taken. When I was in middle school, I avoided the camera in any possible way. Unless it was picture day at school, there are very few photos of me of that time. This went on for a long time too, even well into high school. But I think everyone goes through that phase, especially in an age where cameras are so ubiquitous and are out at every waking moment. But there’s something so specific about the middle school awkwardness and general lack of confidence that make photos so much worse at that age. So, when the whole “selfie” thing really started taking off, I hardly ever participated. I never liked the way I looked, I rarely smiled, and I did everything I could to avoid a photo.

It's difficult to learn to be okay with how you look when you grow up being bullied for your appearances. Transferring to a new school when I was about 8, there were obvious differences between me and the rest of the kids. I was not very welcome the first year there, and it didn’t get much better as the years went on. I was there from 3rd to 8th grade, very formative years to say the least. Eventually, I found some friends as time went on, but there were still mean girls and people who want to make fun of you to feel better about themselves. It’s difficult to explain that to a 12-year-old. People are mean, and middle schoolers are the absolute worst. I think this is a universally accepted truth that middle schoolers are the absolute worst. And there are things that you carry with you from middle school that have a lasting effect even if you don’t realize it until much later.

Highschool wasn’t great for me either, but it was significantly better. While people are still going to be mean about your appearances no matter what, I was at least back in the neighborhood I grew up in and in a school where most people there looked like I did. Luckily enough, everyone was stressed about our classes that people didn’t really judge based on looks but on how you can perform academically. While that had its own last effects, I started to come into my own in high school. I liked that I blended in more, and for a while I was able to find out about my own interests and be ignored in a way. I played soccer all through high school. I got really into running, I became invested in the debate team, and learned that I really like non-fiction books by competing in various academic competitions. Little by little, I gained confidence in myself internally, and that tended to present itself externally as well.

I started painting my nails during the off season of soccer. I invested in some nicer clothes with the little bit of money I had. I wore more dresses and I did my hair and was okay with being photographed. It was still very rare when I had my photo taken, but I wasn’t as shy of the camera as I used to be. I even have a few selfies from that time! But really, I think that’s more indicative of the confidence I had in myself and in who I was becoming. However, I can confidently say now that I would never go back to high school no matter how much better I felt about myself.

College seems like it has gone by so fast, and I have numerous photos to remind me of this time. There are times that I get my photo taken without even thinking. There are moments that I find myself taking photos of my friends and us together. I finally managed to gain a level of confidence that shines through in all different ways, including photos. I wish I could say that I found this confidence on my own, but that wouldn’t be true. It was a series of great friends, partners, and family members that helped me find who I was and continue to help me better understand myself every day. We carry small parts of people that we love only for it to eventually become us and help us be more confident in ourselves. Even though some of those people aren’t around anymore, the feelings of acceptance and happiness will be with me for a long time.

I’ll be taking more selfies and in general, more pictures where I’m present and involved in my own life. I think this is good practice for everyone, regardless of how confident you may think you are.