It Felt Different Yesterday...

It's nearly 9 a.m; you'd think I'd be asleep since it's the weekend, and that's what I do on the weekends. Nah, I woke up at 8 a.m. I think my body is trained now with an eternal alarm clock to wake up early.

I woke up thinking about my day yesterday. I worked with LEAD, just to refresh you on what LEAD is. LEAD stands for Letting Education Achieve Dreams. This is my second year working with LEAD, and it feels different to be a returning "veteran" ambassador. Here's my defintion of LEAD: As "LEAD" Ambassadors, we talk to students (grades K-12) about attending college and encourage them to attend. We tell them about financial aid and scholarships. Working with this program has been a rewarding experience for me, and I am glad I have the opportunity to make a difference. I like to tell the students, "Anybody can be SOME-body." We are not just LEAD ambassadors; we're family!

We went to this high school and elementary school yesterday. While there, I remembered the high school from last year when we visited. When I went inside the classrooms, a feeling of deja vu washed over me. I was in a classroom with an African-American teacher (let me remind you how I love African-American people). She had control of that class; she snapped at the students. I could feel the respect in their eyes vibrating. She was down-to-earth as well, calling me "sista" by the end of my sessions. I felt so comfortable in her class with Chopin playing quietly and posters of literary terms covering the walls. In her class, the students were attentive and quiet. Great for high school students.

I encouraged interaction. I watched the way one young guy's face changed. At the beginning, he was kinda like "alright, I'm gonna be bored." Once I started talking about college and how you study something you love and enjoy, he perked up. His eyes perked up at me with interest. He was a respectful guy, raising his hand to ask me questions. Not just blurting out questions. He shared how he loved history, then he mentioned that he liked computers. I told him and the rest of the class about their options in their selection of a major, how theere is freedom of choice. *You can change your major. You can major in two things.* They were impressed; I could tell some of them had not known this information.

It started to feel different when I visited the next class. They recongized me from last year. I felt a sense of pride to be "recognized" an ambassador for education. One of the girls was excited that I'm going to school because I want to be a writer. She's a writer; she shoved a paper in my hand - eagerly.
"I've been writing this story for awhile. Will you please look at it?" I glanced at the notebook paper with written pencil marks in indentations. When I saw the identations, I thought of myself as a writer and how I make hard indentations in the paper. I read over her words. I saw her pain at the first sentence. She was writing about a young girl whose dad had left. Divorce. Seperation. I saw her comfort in writing. I watched her and how her ears perked up when I said *Your background does not matter in college. No one looks at who your family is, whether your parents were married or not, whether you were rich in high school. None of that matters.* As I read her story, I knew then why she wrote. She wrote to tell stories - the same as me. But, she wrote her personal stories as well. How did I know this? I knew this because of how she talked to me. Asked me questions about becoming a psychologist because she wanted to help people, but at the same time, she wanted to be a writer. I told her *Writers come all different careers.* I could tell by her clothing that she was not a high class student; I could tell by her writing that she had talent. It felt different to recognize talent like this in an individual, made me want to teach creative writing courses for high school students - who knows maybe I will.

We took different approaches to our students. One of the new ambassadors told me I "sugar-coat" everything and that I need to tell them about responsiblity etc. This was something nice to tell me, because I do. I sugar-coat things; I focus so much on the positive that I forget there are negative obstacles in our path. It felt different to inform the students that *Hey not everyone qualifies for financial aid; sometimes you have to take out loans.* I took out a loan for this semester. It felt different to tell them these things. I usually do "sugar-coat" everything and focus on scholarships and how that is what paid for my first three years of college tuition. I like to tell them about scholarships. Mention the twelve I received my senior year of college after applying for twenty. But then like Mama tells me "I never promised you a rose garden" I had to tell them that sometimes that free money runs out, and there's the option of loans. I felt different because I was telling them a truth. A truth that we must work for what we have. It is not ALWAYS handed to us. I think it was a necessary truth though.

This is my last year as an ambassador. We used to have more female ambassadors; this visit - we had more males. I like male company, sometimes more than female company. We had a blast. There was a balance there. The new members to the LEAD family helped tremendously with their new ideas, new approaches, new experiences. At first, one that I helped train was a little nervous; I tried my best to ease him into my College 101 presentation. He felt comfortable; I could tell. I wanted to take him under my wing and help him. That humanitarian nature of mine. I am glad to be doing this. Actually I am glad that I had to take out a student loan for this Fall semester of college because the lack of scholarships exposed a new truth to me and how I need to expose that truth to these young individuals I talk to. Hmmm...*don't sugar-coat everything.* I think it's an awesome approach.

Poem: "I Feel Proud When"

Last night in class, guess what I was doing? Listening to a lecutre about the Iliad and thinking about poetry. I was jotting down notes slowly on the right side of my desk and my hand kept sliding over to the left side of my desk where my little purple and brown striped writing journa sat open. The journal was calling to me, kept saying "Elsie! Get your ideas out on paper now that you have them, so you won't forget them. Just do it. Write." I kept sliding my hand over to the left side, writing frantically. My friend nudged me, thinking I was taking notes frantically. No way, I've read the Iliad twice already, and just reviewed the theme of friendship over the summer; it's fresh in my mind. Writing now, that was so fresh in my mind, I had to jott down lots of ideas on paper. About six pages of written indentations in black ink. For some reason, when I write, I press real hard on the paper so that my words are engraved on the paper. Alright, ENOUGH YOU SAY! GET TO THE POEM. SHUT UP! LOL, here's the poem (just a rough draft - subject to change.) Ok, I'll shut up so you can read...

"I Feel Proud When"

People in town recongize me
as one of the Contreras girls
"Si, you're the baby, verdad? La mona?"
- Yes, that's me.
"Such a respectful young lady."
"You make your family proud."
- Gracias, Senora

I feel proud when
people say
"Your bro's a good man; puro Contreras."
"And your sisters? Married with those beautiful children."
- Must be the way we were raised.
Taught to value family above all else

With loving hands
that hugged
and spanked
when necessary

With guidance y consejos
enough choice to be different
in our own seperate ways

With limited freedom to roam
off in different directions
but not enough to wander away
and get lost in the ways of the world

I feel proud when
I remember respect and morals
that has been branded on my skin
for all the world to see
like a bad sunburn
that reddens my face

I feel proud when
I remember Mama said
"I never promised you a rose garden."
And Daddy said
"Mija, you have to work for everything you have."

I feel proud when
my sisters smile
because they drive their own cars
with tinted windows,
tv screens,
CD players,
sunroofs,
we can't forget the cool a/c

I feel proud when
I remember the gravel roads
we traveled down during my childhood
puffs of dust flying inside
drying our eyes
till they itch and water
the truck rattling
rocking me to sleep

I feel proud when
my bro pulls up in his 18-wheeler
coming to grab
a hot tortilla fresh off the comal
he's big and round
with a sarcastic sense of humor
previous signs of cancer
invisible

I feel proud when
I say - I am a Contreras
Con que?
Con - treras
The r's roll off my tongue quickly

I feel proud when
I remember who I am
blending these old-fashioned ideas
from mi familia
my roots
mi cultura
with new generation ideas
of opportunity in life
that I grasp
with a strong hold
with a determined passion
to remember these stories
of family memories
of family good times
de mi familia

No matter where I go
what distances I travel
in my heart
I will always be a Contreras
When people see my face
and see my daddy's dimples
hear my mother's "sin pelos en la lengua" voice
they will recognize me as a Contreras
I will feel proud when...

Comments? Memories?

Tagged Again..Here It Goes

A-Accent: Texas White Girl Accent - Yeah, that's what my friends tell me.
B-Breast Size: 36D - Yeah, I'm blessed, too.... Have to wear VS btw, nothing else is comfortable. :)
C- Chore you hate: chores, all of 'em. I really hate sweeping and dusting, because I can't stop sneezing.
D-Dad's name: Basilio but he calls himself "Wally" Americanized, yep!
E-Essential make-up: Maybeliene Stay Fresh foundation - works like Clinique but costs less. Can't leave the house w/o my "mask" (like Karla w/ her "face.)
F- Favorite Perfume/Cologne: anything by Ralph Lauren or Victoria's Secret
G- Gold or Silver: a mixture...but I prefer silver or platinum!
H-Hometown: Edna, TX - Home of the Fighting Cowboys! - Yes, could I be anymore Texan?
I-Insomnia: frequently - too much on my mind.
J-Job title: Student / Secretary / UHV Ambassador
K-Kids: None yet....too much of a kid myself.
L-Living arrangements: w/ parents till I finish my B.A.
M-Mom's Birthplace: Port Lavaca, TX - She's a sandcrab!
O-Overnight Hospital Stays: When I was seven...plastic surgery. Horrible Accident - nearly died.
P-Phobia: Insects and spiders. ugh!
Q-Favorite Quote: "You have only failed when you have failed to try."{
R-Religious affiliation: Christian, but I still pray to the Virgin. (grew up Cathollic)
S-Siblings: One brother and two sisters - all older. That's right; I'm the baby!
T-Two You are Tagging: Mia and Nana
U-Unnatural hair colours you've worn: none....Mama likes me natural till I move out on my own.
V-Vegetable you refuse to eat: Tomatoes
W-Worst Habit: Procrastinating. hate deadlines
X-X-rays you've had: what hasn't been x-rayed?
Y-Yummy foods you make: "dirt/sand" pudding, cucumber salads - ahh so fresh & green, not much for cooking...
Z-Zodiac Sign: Cancer - yes, Water Sign, you know what that means right?

I Want It to Shine

I Want It to Shine

I am thinking about this short story I wrote. Y’all know the last one I told y’all about. It’s all posted under the title: “Short Story Is Complete.” That’s the blog link, well the title of the blog entry it is posted under. Something like that. Well, I worked on it some more today. I am adding to it. I want it to sound more like a novel, extend in that direction like a shooting star that soars in the sky in another direction.

This is what I want for my story. I want it to shine up there. I want to publish it. Spread that message. Give some entertainment. This is important to me because I feel that is my purpose in my life. This is why God put me here – to tell stories. There’s something about writing that really does excite me. I am always thinking about it.

When I am not writing, I’m thinking about it. Daydreaming. This is a trait of writers. We can sit and daydream, stare at a blank screen for minutes. The minutes can turn into hours and there we go, three hours of staring off into space and here we have it: a full page typed. I know there has to be some writers out there that can relate. Right?

Then there are those times that the energy just surges through my veins at a quick speed like lightning. . And, I must. I must release the words onto paper or into a Word document. This happened the other day at work. I heard an ambulance shriek by and a flood of memories drowned me. I started writing more to a dark and dreary death scene. Then for some reason, my thoughts shifted over to romance. Romance started to simmer under my veins, reminding me of Love’s warmth and joy. So, there I had to write more romance. The scene was just there in my mind, ready for me to describe in infinte details. Most importantly, I remembered the joy associated with love. . The emotions. So I return to being that emotional writer as I shift form description to emotions. It’s fun: I think it creates a sense of balance.