I used to have a wonderful Spanish teacher, Ms. Rina Faz, in high school who once told me I speak like I have lived a hundred years. I used to always blurt out my mom’s phrases during class. The best part was she enjoyed hearing them, and we would talk about them in class.
Out of all the phrases my mom says, time and time again, I’d have to say this one is one of my favorites:
     (VERY loosely translated: Love and personal interest took a stroll in through a field one day, the personal interest outweighed the love they shared.)
People and their personal interests is something I always find intriguing. You really find out how much you mean to a person when they’re willing to put you before their own personal/financial gain. When it comes down to making a choice between someone you love and a personal gain/interest how many times will you honestly go with the person you love?
I always appreciated the days Ms. Faz took a moment aside in class to discuss my mom’s phrases or to delve deeper into current events and topics. She was the perfect example of someone who constantly put her personal interests, i.e.-sticking to the planned lesson, aside for her students.
I’ve learned that when you do that, it leads to people loving you for a very long time, longer than those personal interests will ever last.
When you’re a kid you want to fit in with the crowd. You don’t want to stand out. I remember I used to watch shows like “Full House” and DJ would have Kimmy Gibbler sleep over all the time. I had friends who were allowed to sleep over their friends’ houses. Not this girl.
When some of my friends were allowed to go to the movies without adult supervision, at around age 10, I was not. I used to tell my mom it wasn’t fair because other kids’ parents let them do things I wasn’t allowed to. Her response always was:
      (You’re not a part of the bunch! You’re mine.)
At the time I detested that answer. I wanted to be part of the bunch! As I’ve gotten older these words have helped me more than I could have ever imagined. I’m very competitive and when you’re competitive you compare yourself a lot. I try to repeat these words to myself as much as I can.
I think back now and I laugh. I had no business sleeping over anyone’s house or going to the movies without adult supervision when I was 10. Not following the masses is always tough but in the end I’m grateful to have a mom who raised me to not be a part of the masses.
I’m not a part of the bunch. I’m my own person and I’m hers. Besides, I’m not trying to share her with anyone (besides my brother) anyways.
Do you remember reading the play, “Zoot Suit†in high school or watching the movie “La Bamba†(1987), based on the life of 1950’s rocker Ritchie Valens, starring Lou Diamond Phillips and Esai Morales? They were both written by multi-award winning playwright and director, Luis Valdez.
He is also the founder of the longest running Chicano theater in the U.S. El Teatro Campesino is located in the rural community of San Juan Bautista, Calif. – approximately 150 miles northwest from where he was born to migrant farm worker parents.
“I was born in 1940 in a labor camp in Delano…the west side of Delano was separated by the railroad tracks,†says Valdez, now 74. “The Asians, Mexicans, and African Americans were on the west side, and the White people lived on the east side of the tracks.â€
Valdez says he remembers understanding as early as age six, that he was born into a segregated land.
Years later, in 1955, he remembers the segregation continued. There was a young man who was called “C.C.†who decided to sit in the middle of the movie theater and not in the section designated for “non-whites.â€
“The police took him away,†says Valdez. “There was no law – it was custom. They released him, and the following week, a whole group went and sat in the middle of the theater. Years later, I went to work with the UFW [United Farm Workers], and my mom said, ‘Don’t you know who C.C. is? He is Cesar Chavez.â€
It was in 1965, while volunteering with the UFW, that Valdez founded El Teatro Campesino – a theater troupe for farm workers and students. The theater, he says, served as a way to inform, educate and also provide laughter during very hard times for strikers.
El Teatro Campesino performing in the 1960’s. (Courtesy El Teatro Campesino)
“I’ve seen the evolution of theater, film and television,†says Valdez regarding his continually growing work with El Teatro Campesino, which still continues today. “My focus has been on historical periods so people can know who we are today…now we’re focused on developing the young.â€
Valdez says it was school that changed the trajectory of his life. It was his mom who sent him and his brother to school one day with their lunches packed in a little brown paper bag – a luxury, he says, in those days.
“I used to take care of my little bag, but one day my bag was missing,†Valdez remembers back to the first grade. “My teacher said, ‘I took it. It’s for a mask I’m making for a play.’ I forgave her for the bag, and the next week, I auditioned and I got my first part in a play – a monkey. I was looking forward to my first debut in front of the world on a Monday. I told my mom, and she said, ‘We’re leaving Friday. We were being evicted.â€
Valdez says he was six and devastated. However, that episode in his life was crucial, because it gave him the insatiable desire to pursue theater for the rest of his life.
“It was at San Jose State University that I began to write and produce,†says Valdez. “I wrote my first full-length play there, and just last month, my son produced ‘Zoot Suit’ – it ran two weeks. It’s come full circle – 50 years after I graduated.â€
What piece of life advice would Valdez tell his younger self if he could?
“I would tell my young self, and others, that it’s important to develop people skills…It comes with giving respect when respect is due. Genius is not an excuse to mistreat other people. A true genius is a genius of compassion and humility…I’m happy to say that El Teatro Campesino is composed of 12 people who have been together the past 40 years. They have had other careers but are still pitching in and helping out. In an odd way, that keeps us young. That’s a great feeling. It’s amazing to me. They’ve become maestras and maestros in their own right…We got a slow start incorporating women into the group, but some of our greatest collaborators have been with women. I would talk to my younger self about the importance of that…These are lessons they I’ve learned along the way. We are all human, and we all have a heart.
Age 5: I saw a woman use a basket full of crayons and her broken English to teach me my colors. I learned who your first teacher really is.
Age 7: I saw a woman who saw herself alone with two small children to raise. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do or how she was going to do it. I learned about the unexpected hits life may give.
Age 8: I saw a woman who wiped her tears, held her head high and knew she had to move forward. I learned about perseverance.
Age 10: I saw a woman who worked overnights so she’d never miss any athletic or schooling events. I learned that sleep is a luxury when it comes to being a mom.
Age 13: I saw a woman hold her brother’s hand and pray as he was taking his final breaths. She knew it was his time to rest. I learned about endless religious faith and selflessness.
Age 15: I saw a woman who picked up an extra job on the weekends passing out flyers and wearing a sandwich board just so I could have a quinceañera party. I learned that there is no shame in an honest living.
Age 19: I saw a woman oozing with pride because her eldest graduated college. Her goal was halfway complete. I learned how much value “a little piece of paper,†(as she calls college degrees), contained.
Age 21: I saw a woman who handed her car keys over to me after I totaled my car. She was just glad I was ok. She took the bus for a month after that. Of course, she didn’t tell me. I learned that there is a solution for everything except death.
Age 22: I saw a woman whose ultimate goal in life had been met. She put both her kids through college. She was done. I learned about the value of hard work and unconditional love.
Age 24: I saw a woman who went to New York for the first time. She had always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty and wasn’t sure if she ever would. I learned that it’s never too late, it will always be just as sweet.
Age 26: I saw a woman who became the life of the party! She’s loved by all her children’s friends. I learned the fine art of balancing being a parent and a friend.
Age 28: I see a woman who is finally making her life about her, until her kids call saying they’re flying her to Chicago for Mother’s Day or need her to drive up to Atlanta with them. I’m learning that being a mom is a job that’s never over, but there’s never a dull moment.
All her words of wisdom and advice are proven true as time goes on. However, her actions are what constantly leave me baffled and humbled to know someone out there loves me so much. The best part is her reaction to this post will be:
“Bueno mija, y de que otra me quedaba? Pa’lante y pa’lante.â€
      (Well, my daughter, what other choice did I have? Onward!)
As I’ve said many times before my mom is my best friend, but I also share her. My mom is one of my great friend’s best friends. I’m not kidding. Since I left Miami, they have served as a support system for one another. It’s kind of adorable!
I also know that they share secrets and trash talk about me. They’re two golden girls who enjoy grabbing a margarita at the nearby Mexican restaurant.
Unfortunately, my friend has a habit that he sometimes forgets about dates he scheduled with my mom. Or he’ll sometimes set his alarm for 5pm, instead of 5am, when he’s supposed to drive her to the airport. Thankfully, he’s a self-proclaimed “mess,†and really good looking, so we just roll our eyes at him. But, every time my mom gets stood up she says:
“Me dejo vestida y alborotada como novia de pueblo!â€
(Loosely translated: I was left all dressed up and ready to go like a small town bride!)
Not sure how factual this is, but it seems as if back in the day small town brides would get stood up. I’ve never witnessed it, but I have seen it in novelas (Spanish language soap operas) –  so I’m going with it! It’s her funny way to think about what is many times a frustrating situation. My mom always tries to put a positive and comical spin on things. After all, what else can you do?
But, she did make a beautiful bride 30+ years ago. So, I guess it’s not so terrible after all.
Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in Atlanta, GA. She is originally from Miami, FL and had the great fortune of being raised by the sassiest, spunkiest, wisest, most hysterical Honduran woman in the world. Victoria’s mother, Bélgica, is 60-years-old, resides in Little Havana (Miami) and enjoys a good margarita accompanied by a heartrending ranchera. Victoria blogs about her mom’s funny and wise sayings on, “In My Mother’s Words.â€
