Donovan Cruz

2-2-16
Mexican American
P.6

Growing Up Latino
Let me start off with my name. My name full is Donovan Edgardo Cruz (not a
typical Latino name) and I am Mexican, Salvadoran and full American (with a tiny hint
of turkish blood as well.) I am honestly blessed to be Salvadorian and Mexican because
I get the best of both worlds. The food, the culture, and just the experience is something
that I hold dearly to my heart. However I am also full American because I was born here
in the United States, therefore
making my experience of the
cultures a truly unique one.
Everything from the food I eat,
clothing I wear, to the words I use
to communicate myself to the
world around me, are a result of
the mixtures of cultures embedded
in my soul. I do consider myself to
be Latino and hold this title
proudly.
I am a 54 male with a pretty well
known condition called Alopecia
Areata which makes me lose hair,
specifically on my head. I got this when I was just a little precioso [3 years old] as my
mom calls it and it hasnt gone away since. I normally wear khaki pants that are cuffed
at the end exposing some sock. I dont match my socks because I just dont like to
match them (it feels weird I dont know why.) And I wear olive green shoes because I
really like that color. I basically look like a skater. A lot of friends, and family, say I look
Filipino, which I used to get offended by, but now I take it as a compliment in a way
because it must mean that I have some pretty close Mayan ancestry. I dont know too
much about my ancestors so I might be full of shit, but its a good joke that makes me
feel good about being called Filipino. Im dont have anything against people from the
Philippines, but its just not where I am from.
Being part Salvadorian and Mexican is pretty funny (for me) because some of my
Mexican friends are rough with me because of the fact that I am Salvadorian. They are
rough with me because over the years, Mexicans and Salvadorians have grown rivalries
and the races sometimes dont get along well. However things are getting better and
people are starting understanding that not everyone is what the stereotype says they
are. My Salvadoran side is a very close and hard working family. Most of them came as
refugees when the civil war broke out in El Salvador. We hold family reunions every
other year, and that is where I get to the diversity and the size of my Salvadoran family.
I sincerely believe that since everyone had experienced the civil war first hand, they
have come to truly appreciate life and all of the opportunity that it comes with. No one in
my family is in extreme poverty or anything, they all live in decent homes with their kids,
enjoying every minute that they get to live their lives.
My Mexican side of the family came to the United States in search for a better
life and are hard workers as well. My grandparents came in search of a better life for
their daughter, Yolanda who is my mom, and their future children, my tia Iliana and my
nino Sigi (short for Sigifredo.) My grandpa, Papi Sigi, and my grandma, Mami Yolis,
both lived in the same pueblo called Capilla de Mipillas, in Jalisco. My grandpa lived in
extreme poverty as a kid and when he finally realized that he wanted more to life, he left
Mexico, leaving my grandma with my mom. Once he established a life in the United
States, my grandma came with my mom. My Mom passed with a fake birth certificate,
but my got grandma got caught crossing and was deported back to Mexico. But she did
not give up. She went back and successfully crossed the border and was finally reunited
with her family. My mom and my dad eventually went to the same high school and fell in
love. The got married and had my brother, Dominick and had me four years later in
1999.
Being Latino is much harder for me, mainly because I dont speak much Spanish.
I was a very fluent Spanish speaker when I was younger, but as I entered school and
had to speak English in the classroom, I eventually lost the Spanish language. I can
understand what my relatives tell me, but its become difficult to communicate with
them. Sometimes I really wish that I can have a normal conversation with my grandma
without stuttering, or needing to say something in English hoping that she understands
what I say. Ive been trying to practice my Spanish, but now I have grown an accent that
doesnt allow me to say my words properly and it makes me sound white. However I
know enough now to get by, but for the most part, I am blessed to be part of a culture so
full of history and stories because I never get tired of learning about my heritage. I am a
proud latino and will remain proud till the day I die.
 Remedios
Growing up, remedios have kept me healthy and played a big part in my life.
They helped me with stomach aches, swelling, or just helping me sleep. My Mami Yolis
(grandma) has always taken care of me after school because my parents had to work. I
was so energetic and playful that whenever I started to play, inevitably, I got hurt.
Getting scrapes and bruises were nothing to me, but burns from grass or asphalt was
something I couldnt bear.
As a boy, I used to play baseball, soccer and football with all of my friends so
occasionally I would get hit with a ball and immediately get a bump on my head. I
remember leaving all of my friends behind so I can go run and cry to my Mami Yolis.
She would always comfort me and would never let a tear hit the floor. Whenever I was
sad, me calento sopa de pollo, and I was good. Once there were no more tears left, she
would go to refrigerator, grab a bar of butter and sugar and apply it to my head. (She
put sugar on the bump and would put the butter over the sugar and would just wait until
the swelling went down) The swell on my head would be gone by the time my mom
came to pick me up, which would save me from getting in trouble.
One of the rare times where I got sick, was actually one of the worst times as
well. I was throwing up, constantly coughing, and becoming extremely pale. My
grandma gave me everything she could. Water infused with mint, pepto bismol,
vaporup, sopa con pollo, but nothing was working. I was laying on her couch with a
trash can full of vomit, watching Fast and the Furious, then the next thing I remember is
being so exciting because I magically appeared in an ambulance. The EMTs were
tending to me, but I wasnt paying attention because I was so happy that I was inside an
ambulance. I turn and look at my mom who was sitting right beside me, and I could see
how worried she was, but at the time I didnt realize how scared she was. Once I arrived
at the hospital room, I started crying because of all the needles that were inside me.
The only remedio my mom knew of, was God. She prayed every night and morning,
asking him to rid me of whatever sickness I had. Doctors said that I had an extremely
low amount of platelets in my blood, but when they ran the tests again, I was absolutely
normal. Its as if nothing was even wrong in the first place. Things like this make me
really wonder if there really is a such thing as God.
My last story happened at the young age of 3 when my parents started to notice
bald spots on my head. My mom blamed my Dad for cutting my hair recklessly, but he
swore he didnt cut my hair like that. Days go by and they notice that my bald spot
started to grow rapidly. A spot that used to be the size of a quarter, grew to take
everything on the top of my head. My parents decided to shave the rest of my hair off
and take me to the pediatrician to see whats is wrong with me. The pediatrician referred
me to a dermatologist where I was diagnosed with Alopecia Areata. When my parents
found out that there was no cure, they turned to everything they possibly could. I
remember rubbing aloe vera on top of my head every day, with little results but nothing
big. And I also remember rubbing this smooth cherry smelling oil on my head, that didnt
end up working neither. My parents later thought of my condition as a gift, and not a
burden. My mom used to tell me that diosito blessed you with not having hair. At this
point in my life, I have also come to realize the same thing too. As much as I wouldve
wanted hair to save me from bullying, I have come to realize that this condition should
be called a gift because of the things that I learned early on in life. I learned that
everyone is different and that no one ever wants to be treated like an outsider. When I
was in 7th grade, I noticed that a kid named Sebastian would walk around alone with
nothing but his thoughts, so me and some friends would go up to him sometimes and
give him company, whether it be outside or inside the classroom. I also learned to
forgive, some of the people who used to bully me, actually ended up being some of my
best friends.
 My Abuelita
I honestly dont even know where to begin with this woman. She has been a part
of my life for as long as I can remember and I just truly love her to death. Her name is
Yolita Amezquita Hernandez, but to me, shes my Mami Yolis (kind of like saying
grandma Yolita). She is one of the most kind hearted, fun and sweetest souls to ever
roam the Earth. And Im serious about this like I have never seen her get mad, angry or
anything because my Mami Yolis addresses everything with love. She did (and still
continues to do) anything, and everything to please me. She cooked my favorite meals,
let me watch tv, gave me things that my parents wouldnt allow, but most importantly,
she was there when I needed her. She basically spoiled the shit out of me, and I am so
thankful that she did that. Its one thing to be spoiled by your parents, and another thing
to be spoiled by your grandma which is something that I wish everyone on this Earth
can experience. Love from your grandma is different from any other kind of love. The
love from my parents is equal to the love I receive from my Mami Yolis, but just a little
different which is what makes it so enjoyable.
When I was a kid, nothing would make me happier than knowing that I was going
to see my Mami Yolis. Every time I saw her, she wrapped me in her loving arms that
would hold me so tight, and call me things like mi precioso or mi cielo, and I would
just hug her as tightly as I could with my small arms saying gracias ama, gracias. As a
matter of fact she still continues to do this to me, and Im sixteen. But it never bothers
me because I am not ashamed of the love that I receive from my grandma. There are
certain things about her that are just so unique that it comforts me and warms my heart
whenever I see it. One thing that fills me with happiness, is hearing her trademark laugh
that everyone in the family knows. She sounds like a hyena that is trying to cry like
Vicente Fernandez. Her laugh is like none other that Ive ever heard and it really makes
me happy hearing it. We actually made a special card about her when we play Apples
to Apples at family gatherings. It says The Hernandez Laugh because her sisters and
my grandmas laugh are very similar.
As a kid, I only appreciated her for the things that she had done for me like feed
me, make me happy and spoil me, but I had never realized the kind of woman that she
is. Now that Im a bit older and I understand her upbringing, I have only grown an even
greater appreciation and love for her. My Mami Yolis is the mother of 3 children. My
mom (Yolanda) was the first, the second was my nino (Sigifredo) and the last was my
tia (Iliana). My grandma brought my mom when she was 3 years old, but still had to go
back and forth from Mexico, back to the United States, and she actually got caught
once. However once she was deported, she tried to cross the border again and it was
successful. She had experienced many hardships, which included my grandpa not
being home, and not showing affection and things like that, so what puzzles me now is
why she still loves him unconditionally. I love my grandpa as well, but damn my Mami
Yolis put up with a lot, and she still will not leave his side. She still loves him like a
teenager would and she feels so lucky to have him in her life. To me, that just shows
her strength to endure everything, get over anything bad, and keep on moving on. She
loves life so much and shed rather spend her time looking at the brighter side of things,
rather than being sad and staying with the past. My Mami Yolis has really shaped who I
am today, and I am so thankful for her loving and kind character. There is no one else
like my Mami Yolis, and that is why I love her so much.
 Being a Child (and continuing to be one)
One of my earliest memories as a child is playing T-Ball (baseball) when I was
around 4 or 5 years old. For some, being a kid is one of the most laidback and carefree
times youll ever live. All I had to do was wake up, play, eat, and sleep. It would be
considered a luxury to be a kid again, however Im happy with the responsibilities I have
as a young adult.
Some of my best memories come from playing baseball when I was a kid.
Number 4, Dodgers, Shortstop, Third Base, and Closing Pitcher. I loved putting my
glove in my bag and getting everything ready to go to practice. That was the time
where, even though we were exercising and learning new things, I was able to be calm
and be in the moment. I felt so free being able to throw a ball around. Baseball was also
a time where I met some great friends. Nicholas was my teammate, and also one of my
best friends at the time. We
listened to the same music,
were into the same teams, and
we just bonded very well. But
one person who I really enjoyed
learning from, was Coach Leo.
Now that I look back, I
realize how awesome and
caring he was for us. He gave
little life lessons, even though
we didnt notice because he
related it to baseball. Whenever we didnt try and lost a game, he would tell us that
nothing is more important than doing your absolute best. I remember one specific
memory that will live with me forever. My team had just lost a game, badly, and when
we went to the outfield to sit and talk as a team, the other team made fun of us, telling
us we suck and they ran off. Once coach Leo came to us, we told him what the other
team said and I remember him saying well yeah you guys did suck, you guys didnt try
at all where was the effort? Where was the hustle? You guys are a great team I dont
understand what happened today. I dont mind that he said we suck because I know
that he was just frustrated and wanted to make a point, but got I miss him. I recently
learned that he wasnt the happiest man in the world and unfortunately turned to the
bottle for happiness when he was coaching me, but I never knew. I couldnt tell because
his passion for baseball and love for kids is what made me blind from seeing what he
was really going through. Looking back, I wish I had an even closer relationship with
him because I know he really enjoyed having me on his team.
One summer when I was 10 or 11 years old, I had already stopped playing
baseball, but he called me and asked me to join again. He was the one who taught me
how to throw a knuckleball, curveball, 4 seam and 2 seam fastball, but most importantly,
he taught me patience. Whenever I struck out, hit a pop fly, or missed a play
defensively, he would always smack my helmet and tell me that another chance is
around the corner, all I have to do is correct my mistake. I knew everything he was
telling me, but I was so mad at myself for not succeeding that I didnt listen.
I dont know what happened to Coach Leo after I officially left baseball. When I
learned he was an alcoholic, I was deeply saddened. I wish I can see him again so that
he can tell me stories of when he used to coach me. I want to talk to him so bad
because I know that I would make him somewhat happy; and maybe hell tell me to join
another team, and honestly, Id join, just to feel how I used to when I was a kid.
 Family Struggles
My family has struggles, but we have always managed to pull through and do
alright. My dad, as mentioned previously, came as a refugee from El Salvador and my
mom came as a child with her parents in search of a better life. Their lives were less
hectic than the ones of my grandparents, so this is their story and their struggle of
adapting to the American culture.
My Mom
(Left To Right: My Grandma Mami Yolis, My Grandfather Papi Sigi, My Nino Sigi, My
Mom, And my intellectual Tia Iliana)

My mom came as a little girl and was able assimilate easily. She moved
immediately to Santa Ana, California because this is where my grandpa had set up the
new lives for himself, my grandma and my mom. They lived on a street called Mini
Street with a bunch of Cambodians, Vietnamese, and
Mexicans. She said she hated it because there was a
lot of gang related shootings, it was dirty and very
loud. My mom was never She was introduced to
many American ideas like becoming an independent
woman and doing things on your own, but my
grandpa, being a macho Mexican dad he is, was
extremely strict and didnt want her doing any of that.
My mom tells me that she had to come home
everyday from school and had to clean her room, wash the dishes, and basically do all
the house chores with time to spare in order to do her homework. However she was a lil
rebel too. My mom has been to house parties and ditch parties which got pretty crazy
according to her. One of her crazy stories tells of the time during the eighties when her
friends told her to go to a ditch party because it was going to be fun. She was nervous
at first but easily fit in with the crowd. She didnt do any drugs or drink but she danced
the whole time with her friends. However sunddenly there was a knock on the door and
everyone gets quiet. One person yells dont open the door its the cops! but some girl
opens the door, and sure enough the cops barge in and shut down the party. My mom
ran out the back of the house and among all of the chaos, she was separated from her
friends. She walked back to her high school (Santa Ana High School) and started to talk
about the whole experience.

My Dad

(Left to Right: Tio Fili, My Little Cousin Dante, Me, My Mom, My Brother, My Tia Analiz,
My Salvadoran Grandpa named Lito Carlos, My Salvadoran Grandmother named Mami
Tere, My Dad, My Little Cousin Matthew, And last but certainly not least my Dads sister
otherwise known as my Tia Ena)

My Dad is a super interesting guy to me. Although hes my Dad, I dont look up to
him because of the title he has as my Dad, I look up to him because of the person he
is and everything he has done to get to the place he is today. My dad spent his
childhood in El
Salvador and has
countless stories
about his childhood
and everything about
living in poverty. According to him, he didnt even realize how poor he was until he left
El Salvador.
My grandparents always tried their hardest to put food on the table and tried their
hardest to make their harsh times in poverty brighter. My grandpa had saved up enough
money to be the first in their entire neighborhood to buy a colored tv set. Some kids and
even adults would gather around their window to see the revolution of seeing color on a
tv screen. There was also a lot of music that wasnt allowed to be played in their
neighborhood, but my grandparents smuggled it in and listened to everything that was
playing in the United States. Whenever my dad listens to music, he listens to people like
Etta James, Al Wilson, Aaron Neville, and just everything that we would consider to be
oldies. Whenever I asked how he got into this music, he responds with this is what I
grew up to mijo. This is what I listened to as a kid in El Salvador. However the times
turned grim when the Salvadoran Civil war broke out.
Back in the day when the Cold War was happening, Russia wanted to turn El
Salvador into a communist country. However the United States had a bill named The
Truman Doctrine which meant that the United States needed to intervene with any
spread of communism. A famous example would be the Korean War. North Korea
invaded South Korea, and from there Russia and the United States came in to support.
The same exact thing pretty much happened in El Salvador. Except this was a much
more cruel war.
He tells me of a time when he remembers dead bodies along the sidewalk from
the night before. He tells me that he remembers hear bullets flying on the roof of their
house, however he thought of the war as a game and not a danger to his health. So he
went on top of his roof, laid down and saw the soldiers fighting the civilians. My Tio was
actually a rebel in the war. He was known as Chepe and there is a video somewhere
on YouTube showing him specifically fighting with fellow civilians. The first thing that I
noticed about the people, was seeing how they didnt have uniforms or anything, they
were just regular people fighting the war that was spreading from village to village.
However something very unfortunate happened where we lost contact with him.
Everything dropped and we never heard from him since. He stayed behind instead of
fleeing because he felt that it was his duty to stand by his neighbors and fight for the
land that was rightfully theirs. We assume that the army had kidnapped him and tortured
him because that happened a lot, or he possibly died fighting. But either way, we dont
think hes alive today, so we as a family honor his memory. My family owns a knife
sharpening business and in honor of my tio chepe, we named the business after him.
Its called J.C incorporated, which stands for Jose Cruz, otherwise known as my tio
Chepe.
My Dad arrived here at around the age of 14, the year youre supposed to enter
high school. Except there was so many things my Dad had to conquer. He didnt have
his papers, didnt know the language, didnt understand the culture and basically spent
his freshman year not knowing anything. He slowly got the grip of things and slowly
became more and more comfortable with the American culture, however he was always
embarrassed for not having his papers to be a citizen of the country. But he managed.
He was a DJ for his years in high school, and played sports like soccer and wrestling,
but his main love above everything is basketball. My Dad is absolutely infatuated with
Michael Jordan and not because he did cool shit or because of his highlights, no my
Dad loves Michael Jordan because he loves his drive, his passion, and his contribution
to basketball. I dont know if this is true or not but he says that he watches Michael
Jordan videos everyday. That is how inspired my Dad is by Michael Jordan. Someone
he looked up to as a teen, stayed with him throughout his adulthood as well.

My Parents Together
My Mom and my Dad fell in love in their high school years, a classic teenage love
that has lasted to this day. Their relationship, is honestly pretty cute. My Dad loves to
annoy my mom and when my Mom has had enough, she yells Ya Mario, STOP! But
he doesnt listen and he keeps on tickling her or something like that. One piece of
advice that my Dad told me about marriage, is that you need someone who
compliments who you are. He said you shouldnt depend on someone to make you
happy, you should be with someone who is happy with you and someone who is happy
for you. Once youve found that person, you will be set. After being in a couple
relationships myself, Ive come to realize that this is very true. Relying on someone for
happiness is not healthy. You must be happy and content with yourself before investing
yourself in a relationship that could last a couple weeks, a couple months, or the rest of
your life.
They got married at the age of 25 because my mom was pregnant with my
brother, Dominick. Apparently the party they threw for their wedding was one of the
biggest ones theyve thrown. They had a bunch of guest and a bunch of guests. The
music was bumping, people were dancing, and most importantly, my parents were in
love and you can feel it flowing through the air.
After they got married and had their honeymoon, they settled into their new
apartment with their newborn baby, Dominick. And then 4 years later, I was born. My
mom got a job with the Orange County Child Support office straight out of high school,
and my dad got a job with Verizon, but later left to be a student at California State
University of Fullerton. My Dad was the first person in the family to graduate with a
degree from university. I still remember how happy my dad was, taking pictures with
everyone because the whole family was there. I also remember all of the late nights he
spent studying to pass his classes. He told me that he studied so hard for his Calculus
class because it was the hardest thing hes ever dealt with in his entire life. He was a
part of a class that started with nearly thirty students, and ended with only around 10,
and my dad was a part of that class. He told me that he received a C- in that class, but
its the proudest C- hes ever received. My mom and my dad are two of the most
incredible parents anyone could ever ask for. I am truly blessed to have them guide me
through the journey of life. They talk with me and tell me things that have helped me
throughout my life. It is because of them that I feel that my life is going somewhere, I
owe so much to them its not even funny. My love for my parents runs so deep in my
soul its a feeling like no other. I would give everything I have to make my parents
happy. All of the sacrifice my parents made for us, and continue to make for us, is
something that I wont understand till I have kids. For this, I am truly grateful.

My Mom, Me, My Brother, And My Dad

(This day was so amazing, I fell in love with Chichen Itza and hold this memory of my
family closely to my heart)
 The Closet
Our closet was filled with so many things. Cobijas, books, important papers, but it
mainly consisted of pictures. I have honestly never seen so many pictures in one
localized place ever. Of all the junk in our closet, the most important artifact, is the
camera used to take all these pictures. This camera captured so many memories, like
this one from a birthday party of mine. And yes I am picking my nose.

If there is one thing that our closet, and anyone elses closet has, is memories. My mom
goes on for days whenever she reminisces with all of these pictures. Im not kidding
when I say this, but we probably have more than 1,000 photographs just laying in a box
waiting to be scavenged through again.
The other day we were actually cleaning out this closet, because were
expanding a wall in my house, and my mom finds the Danny and the Dinosaur kids
books she used to read to me when I was younger. I was in my room when she found
them, and all of a sudden she shouts my name and calls me to the kitchen, where I see
her looking at the book and looking at me. I pull up a seat and sit down, and my mom
looks at me and says damn the times just flew by. I used to read these to you when
you were just a little boy. Then she asked me if she can read the books to me, and I
said yes because I know how much she misses us being little boys. As she reads the
book, I start remembering the plot of the actual book and all of the pictures, and I made
a connection. It was one of the few times where I felt connected to something through a
memory. I didnt feel like a kid when my mom was reading it to me at that moment, but I
sure did remember the times I read it as a kid.
My mom went on to more pictures, asking me if I can spot my tias and tios, and it
was at this moment where I just thought about how big my family is. My family isnt
grandisimo like some other families, but we have enough to account for over 1,000
pictures. Everyone in my family has played a role in my life. Everyone in the pictures
that I saw, has a memory with me and has in some way shaped who I am. I am one of
those people who believe that every small event, in some way or another shaped me
into the person I am today. These pictures mean a lot to me because in a sense, it
shows me my roots and who my family is. These pictures are more than just ink on a
piece of paper, it is a moment in my life, my moms my dads and my brothers life that
affected us. I guess what I am trying to say is that these pictures mean a lot to me
because it shows people who are irreplaceable, my family. And Im starting to realize
that one of the most important things in my life, is my family
 Who Am I?
Well jeez thats a pretty jam packed question to be asking a sixteen year old. I
am still in high school, but at this point in my life, I feel confident enough to describe
who I really am.
Well let me just start with everything. I am a 16 year old Latino, who drums, takes
college courses, and aspires to be a physical therapist. I dont remember if I mentioned
it before, but just incase if I didnt, I am a drummer in the band Apollo Bebop. I would
say that I am a hard worker, determined and creative individual. I try to make everything
a little but artsy, or even if its not artsy, I certainly try to make it artsy. For example I
have a video that I made for Spanish class that I am really proud of because its pretty
good.(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y9h6ejamQVE) For it being homemade, I did
a pretty good job. I really not trying to boast I just really think I edited the video in a very
creative way. And Im also proud of it for the fact that I spoke a lot of Spanish and I
spoke it pretty well. Of course like I said previously, its white washed, but its good
enough.
I am also very proud of who I am. By this I mean everything that I have gone
through in order to truly accept myself. I have faced so many obstacles and overcame
them that whenever I look back, I smile because I feel like I have really conquered every
major obstacle. For example, as I mentioned, I have Alopecia Areata and I used to get
bullied for this. For this reason, I wore a hat all throughout my schooling years and
never took it off because I felt so exposed and vulnerable. However even though it took
a few years, I finally gathered the strength in myself to let go of my past and embrace
my baldness. When I finally took off my hat, and left it off, thats the moment when I
realized that I must accept the fact that this is what I must live with. Some other people
have it way worse than I do so I shouldnt be complaining over being bald.
Another thing I am, is a kid. I may be 16 legally, but I have the energy of a 7 year
old. (Ask my girlfriend and shell tell you how annoying I can be sometimes) I honestly
dont think Ill ever lose that about myself. I have noticed that I am sort of automatically
drawn to balls whenever they cross my path. Tennis balls are the shit too because you
can throw them to a wall, and itll bounce back to you so you can just keep on playing
and playing. They're good when you dont have a field to be throwing real baseballs.
Energy is also something that I am full of. Unfortunately my school doesnt have any
sports so I cant take it out, but whenever I had P.E, I tried my hardest because thats
the only place I was able to play sports. People like me are called try hards in P.E, but
I wouldnt say I was trying at all, it was just all of my energy that needed to come out.
With that being said, its not like Im on a sugar rush every minute of the day, I
am actually a pretty easy going person. I like to listen to a lot of music. Everything from
underground hip hop, (Madvillain, Asheru, Ivan Ave) to Jazz (John Coltrane, Kenny
Garrett, Chet Baker) to Latin Jazz (Tito Puente, Beny More, Buena Vista Social Club) to
Los Trios de Mexico (Los Tres Caballeros, Los Dandys, Los Tres Reyes) and to oldies
(The Jive Bombers, Little Anthony and The Imperials, Al Wilson). Music has become a
big part of my life in recent years, not due to any specific event or anything, but just for
the simple fact that it all makes me groove a certain way and I love that. The power and
strength behind Mambo and all Latin Jazz makes me want to stomp my feet deep into
the soul force of the music. However this cool and calm hip hop makes me close my
eyes and bob my head in absolute bliss. Hip hop is like my baby, I love it to death. I feel
so close to hip hop because (for lack of better word) its chill. The beats made in hip hop
help me unwind and enjoy my time, however the lyrics make my mind think and ponder
new ideas which keep me interested in the music. Same thing goes for Jazz. Whenever
I listen to Jazz, I start to feel it and my entire body begins to move. Listening to Jazz, for
me personally, is an experience rather than something to listen to. Jazz is someone
pouring out their soul into a beautiful improvised solo which helps me understand what
the artist is feeling whether if its love (Coleman Hawkings - Shes Funny That Way)(if
you do listen to this song, skip to 1:29 or listen to the whole thing because its an
awesome song) Sadness and determination (John Coltrane - Alabama) or just sadness
(Chet Baker - I Fall in Love Too Easily). Every song has helped me figure out a certain
emotion and I tie certain things to certain songs.
So who am I, jeez I dont know if I even answered it. But I guess that just goes to
show that I am still a work in progress. I cannot say precisely who I am, but I can say
what my characteristics are and where my roots are. I am a nice, easygoing energetic
guy who has roots deeply imbedded in his family. But I cannot answer this question, I
can only keep searching for the answer in this beautiful, complicated but amazing
puzzle we all call life.

Peace and Love