Where to Start? Part 2

When I became fifteen, I began to feel desperate and I remember feeling unhappy, with no future, no opportunities, no friends, and no house of my own… My sisters house was new, was in a "nice" neighborhood, but it was a ghost town, a depressing place, there were no kids on the streets.

I remembered when we lived in our little old wooden house in in Matamoros, and how I would play outside until late at night, my mom and our neighbors watching us from their chairs, chatting (gossiping, I am sure!). It was not as nice as my sister's new home here in Brownsville, but it was our house, it was where I grew up, it was where all my friends were, it was where the fun was! Here-- here, we would only see the next door neighbors when they came home after work, and even then they would open their garages with a remote control device from their cars, and we would not see them again until the next day.

A few months later we began to make some friends, and so I started going out, to the side walk in front of the house where my nephews and some other kids would play. One day I saw one of the neighbor's kids skating, and I just HAD to do that. wanted to do that so much. I asked my mom for a pair of skates, and she got them for me at a garage sale, so I learned to skate until one day I felt and had an open wound in back of my head. I was knocked unconscious, and of course my mom was so frightened that she almost killed me in her anger But it was at that moment that I realized that I didn't want to die in fear, in fear of something I did not do, in fear of decisions I did not make, in fear of almost anything.

And so, I decided to find ways to attend school. It was not an easy task. We went to talk to a lawyer to "legalize" our situation, after charging us $300, he opened our case, He said my mom will probably get her "papers" within months, but that it would take a lot longer for me, perhaps a year, perhaps 5 years, or 10, there was no way to know. (27 years later I still am waiting--In the end I got my "papers" thru the Simpson-Rodino Amnesty --but that is another story I will tell you another time) In any case, the lawyer gave us some ideas of how to get into the school system. After many visits to the local school district offices, I was finally able to enroll in high School. A step in the right direction, but for the fact that the High School I was to attend was among the worst. I remember Rey, who sat next to me, sniffing cocaine in the middle of class. I had no idea what was going on until another student gave Ray a $ 100 and as innocent as I was back then, I asked them, what are you selling! they said: "drugs, want some", I was in shock and of course never sat next to them! The school felt like a jail more than a learning place, and even though most of the students were from Matamoros, or had family in Matamoros, it was different. Seemed to me like students were less innocent, there was more “freedom” students will kiss in the halls, and felt to me like they did not have manners, no one will say good morning to the teachers, no one will open the door for others, and they all seemed just too aggressive for me, girls will fight for their boyfriends! (I never understood that!),

In the other hand, I was lucky, I had good, very good teachers, My Cavazos, Mr. McHalle, Mrs. Garcia, Mrs. Ramos, they all helped me in many ways, and encouraged me to continue, specially Mr McHalle, my English teacher, who would always tell me:, "It’s hard, but keep trying, keep trying, ojos de tigere! - -tiger eyes"(he would always called me that) And I did, despite the difficulty, and in the process, I made new friends, met new people, learned new things, this was starting to looked more like the life my mom wanted me to have!

Stay tuned for the last part!