I wasn’t born in Texas, but I got here as soon as I could. I was born in Ajo, a desert community in the southwestern part of Arizona, the Grand Canyon State. Never mind when. Most of the men worked in the mine, most of the women lived for their homes, husbands and children, and most of the kids looked forward to doing the same. A look at the route from there and then to San Antonio College (SAC) and today shows some unexpected turns. Dad was a bulldozer operator in Ajo’s open pit copper mine. He wanted lots of male children, but he got three younger girls, one boy, and me. If he were home on the rare day that it rained, we dropped everything, packed into the truck, and headed for a dry wash. We waited excitedly for the foam to announce the flood. The rainwater first roiled toward us carrying tires, branches, car parts, old oil drums and other debris. When the waters subsided to a safe level, Dad led us in so we could wade in their soft, sandy muddedness. The rest of the time, I played with my brother, sisters, and cousins all over Mexican town and the A Mountain. The family members called me "Chila" when I wasn't annoying them or causing trouble. My favorite cousin, Lucia, and I swam, climbed the A, rode bikes, and, most often, went to the movies. But what I remember enjoying most as a child is reading. I’d find a book in Mrs. Sullivan’s library, pick up snacks at home and carrying a piece of jerky and a Pepsi, meander through honeysuckle and creosote scents. In the dry wash behind my grandmother’s house, I ascended into the shaded crook of the palo verde tree, the best place to read. From there, I climbed up into the balloon, then boarded the train, the ships, and the hot-air balloon that took me around the world in 80 days. Other days I sailed the Pacific on the Kon-tiki. Learning was fun, in school or out. In sixth grade, I won the spelling bee. In seventh grade, I missed the announcement about its being held at seven in the morning. In eighth grade, I won again and went on to take fourth place at the state level, wiping out on "spontaneity" after transposing the "e" and "i." That infamy brought me an unaccustomed attention from my peers when we entered high school. For the next three years, my classmates voted me in as their representative to the student council. When the journalism teacher retired after my sophomore year, David Rees, the local photographer, became my mentor. He cheerfully encouraged me to get in the way of everybody who was trying to watch a ballgame to take pictures for the school publications. He urged me toward thoughtful illumination. Mr. Rees also proved indispensable, showing me how to develop and print my photos for the yearbook and school newspaper. A two-week summer workshop rounded out my high-school journalism training. As a senior, with lots of useful, invaluable support, I edited the yearbook and wrote for both it and the Raider Review, our newspaper. In 1970, I graduated number six in a class of 120 (if you really want my age, you’ll have to work for it) with full scholarships to Arizona’s three major universities. That summer, a preacher named Bob Adams started me toward the clearest, most deliberate light. I went to a university mainly because my high school teachers said I was college material. No one in my family had ever gone. I wanted to see if the teachers were right. I wanted to write features for magazines. I didn’t know then that one really doesn’t have to be a college graduate to have an article accepted by a magazine. I also didn’t know that starvation would probably bring my body to room temperature long before feature writing paid me a living wage. So I went. Texas beckoned when my freshman year at the University of Arizona in Tucson ended. I transferred to Lubbock Christian College (now University), but the only degree I earned there was the PHT – Put Hubby Through. I met him when he needed a biology tutor. After we got married, we did the homework. I dropped out and punched out babies until we could finally afford a television set. Grandma kept the boys while I worked as a proof operator at a local bank until my husband graduated. After that, we lived in Lovington, New Mexico, for a time, and then moved back to Lubbock where he worked as a caseworker for a foster care agency. When the older boys started school, Grandma offered to keep the three-year old so I could give college one more try. My favorite class was the one on magazine writing and editing. Our student effort won third place in the magazine competition for university publications. My profile of a psych student won second place in the features division. During that time, I worked first as a secretary, then as an information specialist, writing press releases and newsletters for the agency. When my youngest son was six years old, the television broke. Meanwhile, I finished a Bachelor’s Degree in English from Texas Tech University, Technical Writing and Editing Emphasis, Cum Laude. My daughter was born in Dallas, where we moved the summer after my graduation. When we moved back to Lubbock and she grew up some, I bought a replacement TV and a backup with a remote control so I could go back to school. My favorite classes were on teaching technical and college writing, especially the unit in which we studied Walter J. Ong’s Orality and Literacy. I earned the master’s in English, Composition and Rhetoric Emphasis, in 1988. The daddy in the family applied to study for an advanced degree in social work from the Worden School at Our Lady of the Lake University and sent me to look for work here. When San Antonio College hired me in 1989, the family moved down. That’s how we got here. The boys worked and attended SAC, and then the older two moved away. All three of these fine young gentlemen promise to complete bachelor’s degrees someday. The eldest served in the Army near Mosul, Iraq with the 327th Infantry Regiment (NO SLACK! WOLVERINES!), 2nd Battalion, 101st Airborne. By God's grace, he returned to Ft. Campbell in February, 2004, alive and healthy. Twice a year or so, he returns to Iraq for 45-day stints. He and his wife care for four of my grandchildren where they now live in Virginia. The second son is busy making money and loving life, but when he returns to college, he will major in marketing. The third loves his baby daughter, works in business, studies X-box, and plays guitar. He'd love the chance to have too much, too soon, too fast. The gracious young lady who is my daughter is in her second year at college for the third year, and revels in being away from home. She enjoys indie music, photography, drama, movies, reading, driving, and spending money. For fun, I read, and learn more about how students interact with literature, reading, writing, computers, and electronic media. I also take time to optimize my ipod, do sissy city-hikes (after doing a high 13-er in Colorado, everything else seems mild), and write for church newspapers. A friend recently described me this way: "She lives to create heaven on earth, even if she has to raise a little hell to get it." Only once in a lifetime, a teacher comes along whose ideas and lessons
Until she or he comes along, let's practice making the learning happen together. |
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Updated
11/13/09
by Maria
Garcia -- hyperclass © 2000 by Maria Garcia and San Antonio College. All rights reserved. English Dept. | SAC |
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