Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Siendo Hernandez


 I promise mama, I'ma do it cuz I kno I put you through it 
I know I put you through it baby 
And I just want you to sit around wit ya friends at a dinner table 
And say my baby's famous and i knew it 

My mom gave birth to me two quick months after turning nineteen, I sometimes joke that she began the teenage mother trend that happens to be all the rage in public high schools. Although I mentally persecute those girls with the baby faces and maternity pants I am glad my mother had me at the age she did.

Like any teenager my mom needed time to find herself. My grandparents raised me for much of my "toddlerism".  At one point I would even call my grandma "mom" and my mom "grandma". They taught me Spanish, they took me to many futbol games they kept me smiling and well fed. I cannot stress how well fed they kept me, these curves are not an accident :D I remember tamales on this certain hill.   My Sister Connie and Cousin Brandon and I would lay flat in the hatch back portion of my grandparent's station wagon, we'd scream our orders to them in Spanish. As the oldest I'd order the green chile tamale and eat it next to my grandpa so that he could acknowledge the fact it. It burned my tongue and stung for minutes after each bite but the praise was always well worth it. Then there is Dino's, this great hamburger place in Lincoln Heights, California, we still go their til this day. We still order the same things and the number of booths we take up keeps increasing as the years pass.

Elementary: My mom always bought us new uniforms and made sure to do our hair and pack us snacks. She would bathe us in amusing ways and tuck us into bed lovingly and bought us surprises as often as humanly possible. I remember having every Disney movie and her trading my pink bike for the black one I preferred. I remember my pet turtle 'junior' and matching outfits. With the good came some inevitable bad... Many children can relate to abusive pasts.  My mom took a lot of her frustrations out on my sister and I which caused me to become a very nervous child and carry my nail biting habit into what you could call my adult life. I dealt with a lot of personal tension and over analyzed much of my life even as a kid. I did as I was told but mostly out of fear. Fear and respect are somethings that were hard for me to distinguish between, along with fear and love. So much of my childhood was a constant desire to please and to be heard.

Middle School: That desired turned into a passion and this little writer within me was born. I started my first journal when I was eleven. I would leave it in plain sight hoping that my mom might pick it up and read it, take it in and maybe understand how much of me was unsatisfied; how much of me was broken. Another thing I believe many children can relate to is the need for a father figure. Especially children that belong to teenage parent's. Much of my writing revolved around his absence and how unappealing I must have been for him not to have stayed. Although very therapeutic for myself it was whip lash to my mother, it was betrayal and it was trashed. I was not allowed to speak to anyone about problems in the house, problems in the family and most of all problems within myself. Turning your personal life inside out for everyone to see is considered taboo in many cultures. Writing allowed me to do it in the most secret of ways. I began hiding my journals, filling them up day in and day out. I reflected on life in ways some adults still cannot.

I believe I found myself when I found writing. I am no longer shy, reserved or afraid of much. I sometime can't believe I was the little girl afraid of the rain, crying constantly, clinging from my mothers slacks asking her please not to leave me. When I look back on the way I was raised I am mostly thankful. I don't think I could raise a child. Although I did practically raise my three younger half sisters. My mom provided everything financially and she was so young. So much of my obnoxious know it all self wants to argue that she had sex and that she should have known better but it takes someone so extremely strong to keep and raise a child like myself. She is an amazing woman who I will probably claim I hate two weeks from now for some immature reason or another. I know I don't, and I hope she knows I could never. I owe her everything in this world and so much more. ( AHHH Damn Tears).

I thank my mom and my grandparents for the way I ultimately turned out. I am very passionate thanks to all of them. My grandpa speaks politics, culture, mechanics and morals with me. My mom instills me with drive, strength, determination and charisma. My grandmother is a Beast <3, she is cold blooded in a way empowering to woman in any situation, she is beautiful and loyal and loves me in a way I can not properly describe yet. These people made my childhood one for the storybooks... literally.

Dear Mom,
I Love You Dude
Sincerely,
Camii

2 comments:

  1. You are a very gifted writer. I stumbled upon your blog and enjoyed reading your posts. Keep up the good work. ;)

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    1. Hey, about 3 years later... Thank you :)

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