It is important to know, both my mom and dad are teachers. My dad teaches high-school math and my mom teaches special education. They care about people, they want to do good, and they want to be good. They are good.
Even outside of their classrooms my parents are always teaching me something, teaching me how to be the best version of myself I possibly can be. That, by keeping a resilient heart, and work ethic, great things were inevitably bound to happen in my favor.
We are from East Los Angeles, California. We are not wealthy in the slightest; yet, mom and dad never failed to give my sisters and I the richest quality of life, and love, making the best out of every possible situation. This included, not having a car for a good amount of our lives, which of course did not stop mom and dad from giving us the gift of adventure.
The bus was our way of transportation for the first seven years of my life. It was where my older sister taught me how to tie my shoes, while managing to talk the ears off of anyone near us (or anyone who would listen), and just how we were all able to escape our lives for a couple of hours. We would take the bus, or an adventure I should say, to Downtown L.A., where we would walk up and down the alleys, and buy these real-life, living, miniature turtles, CHURROS, frutas, and even these intense, surreal bubble-blowing machines that lit up (they resembled space weapons I swear), which took our bubble blowing game to a whole other …intergalactic level! It was serious bubble business I tell you.
Dad would even take the bus to his old job in Huntington Park, which is about fifteen minutes from where we live. Then, when he got off of work, he would take it to my preschool to pick me up. From there, we would walk a mile home, hand in hand, always. Then, dad and I would stop, probably almost every day, since it just so happened to conveniently be on our way home, and get the biggest Coca-Cola Slurpee from 7-11, and of course, not tell mom.
Not only would we take the bus for fun or to get to one another, but we would take it to gain learning experiences. We visited places such as skid row where there is an overwhelming homeless population, to be reminded and gain a further appreciation for all we do have, but also how we could use what we have to help those who needed it more than we did.
Since it is Hispanic Heritage month, I wanted to use this as an opportunity to say thank you to my parents. Although, we would have undoubtedly had a blast on a bus ride with all my college dorm necessities, you were able to bring me all the way here to Phoenix, Arizona, in the car that you both worked so hard and diligently for. Not once did the two of you ever complain about never being able to have a break from working. Seeing you both work so hard, made me want to be better. You taught me nothing comes easy and if I want it, I have to put in the time, effort, and work for whatever it is, and I thank you for that.
Thank you for teaching me that the color of my skin, where we come from, as well as my gender, does not make me any less of a person. I am invincible, I am kind, I am strong, I am your daughter. On top of that, you taught me not to see color, gender, or disability, but rather the intentions, minds, and hearts of those I come into contact with. You have reiterated the idea that, every moment of this life counts, do not waste a second because life is too short and beautiful to surround it with negativity, which is why we spend every possible moment we can with each other. There is nothing but love with us.
Seeing how the both of you care for us, others, and each other, has taught me how real and powerful love is. The love you share is beautiful, timeless, and contagious. I could not be more blessed and grateful to be able to see and experience the love that everyone in this world deserves to have and for that, I thank you the most. I love you always!
– Brianna