Who shapes you?

Author's note: When I first began writing this story, I had no idea that my paternal grandmother's recollection of her childhood and life were available online. I incidentally discovered a small piece of her own memoir upon asking my aunts for any writings from her masters degree that may be available online. My grandmother passed of lymphatic cancer when my father was thirteen, so any memory I have of her is built off fragments of my family's memories and old black-and-white photographs. 

Now, as someone writing her own memoir (of sorts) in this blog, amongst others, I realize how poignant telling a story in one's own voice is. Her initials, the same as mine ("A.M.," separated only by my middle initial) recounting moments in time that led to her journey to America, my father's birth, and so many things that shaped the people who shaped me. It gave me a glimpse into why my father often says we "are so alike." 

This blog post is dedicated to my grandmothers; for all the ways they have taught me, all the ways they have shaped my life, knowingly or not. I encourage everyone to write their stories; not necessarily to recount the same story from a different perspective, but to make permanent your voice. Thank you for reading my story, for listening to my voice. I hope from it you can find some solace in our similarities, or learn something as I did reading the same story I'd heard from a different perspective. 

When you reflect on your past, who has been the most important figure? Most people refer to a parent or a sibling;  but if you ask a first-gen student, they will often refer to their grandparents. 

In a Psychology class I took in college, we spent a section of the class discussing the evolutionary benefits of grandmothers: females who could reproduce, nurture, and later help their own children reproduce and nurture. While I was never fortunate enough to meet my paternal grandmother ("omi"), it gave me fresh insight on why my maternal grandmother ("wella") was so influential in my life. Every day after school, she treated me to frijoles con arroz or tamales, sat with me while I completed my homework, and slicked my bun for ballet class. Although she never graduated past her third-grade education, her support motivated me to finish my "times-tables" or read the extra chapter. 

Background

I am a first-generation law school student, but both my parents (my mother is first-gen) went to college. My father's parents went to UCLA for their masters' degrees, but pursued careers as schoolteachers at public schools in Los Angeles to support their four children while making an impact on their community. 

My "Grandpa Bob" grew up in Chicago and moved to Los Angeles during the Great Depression and spent his days picking oranges to support his family. My Grandmother was the daughter of an affluent attorney in Germany, but they were forced to escape on Kristallnacht ("night of broken glass") when they were outed as being Jewish (see Three Pillars of Zen Buddhism, "Mrs. A.M., an American schoolteacher, Age 38," page 28-95; cf. her sister's account of the story––the only version I'd been exposed to––here: Part I, Part II).  

My father and his four sisters grew-up low-income as a result. 

My mother's family is from Mexico. My grandpa ("wello" short for abuelo) grew up in a sprawling ranchero in Chihuahua, Mexico, and my grandma ("wella" short for abuela) grew up in a very small town in Jalisco, Mexico called Unión de Tula, where her uncle was the mayor for forty years. 

My wello moved to the United States to pursue work laying railroad tracks in Northern California. Shortly after he moved, he met my wella, they wed, and had two children while raising a third. My wella's two other children from a previous relationship were raised in Mexico by her sister, while my abuelos worked to find ways to get them green cards and move them here. 

Being the "First" & Parentification

My parents both grew up low-income. However, like others, they were fortunate to experience significant social mobility. They were often put in positions of great responsibility: as an English-speaker, my mother often filed taxes out for her parents, supported their understanding of important documents, all while excelling in school (much like the award-winning movie CODA). My father was often getting his siblings out of sticky situations, helping them raise money when my grandfather would leave the four kids alone for several days on trips, and effectively acting as the second "parent" after my grandmother passed away at his ripe age of thirteen. 

On Being a First-Generation Law Student

As an only child, I was destined for success. Or, at least, I was given every tool to be successful. I had my parents attention, to some degree as they both worked full time. I had my grandparents' support, as they babysat me every day after school. I was also the youngest child in my extended family, so I had the benefit of witnessing the many mistakes I could make and the ramifications of acting "out of line." 

My father knew I'd make a great litigator. At the ripe age of nine, he encouraged me to pass out business cards to the other nine-year-olds at my auditions in case they would "need representation in twenty years." I scoffed at the idea; but in hindsight, he was right. 

My second Thanksgiving home from law school (i.e., during 2L), I remember sitting at the table with my parents, my grandfather, and my aunts. I suggested we each share a brief gratitude. I had just gotten my 2L-summer/post-grad job offer and after a long OCI process, that was fresh on my mind. Others shared they were grateful for new chances to travel, for work, for vacation, and so on. When we finally reached my 91-year-old grandfather, he said "I'm grateful for Alexandria because we have a lawyer in the family." My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. I had no idea that my going to law school meant anything to him.

All this to say, it truly takes a village to get to where we are. My parents are, of course, the people who influence me the most on a day-to-day basis. But the people before them, namely, my grandmothers, are who inspired them and who have shaped me. I am grateful for the support I have received, and I hope we can each find a way to support others with our knowledge, our strength, and our optimism. 

Thanks for reading! ¡Gracias por leer!