My mother’s ancestors came from Italy and Spain. They settled in Texas before it was Texas, before it was Mexico, before they were aware that it was anything at all—just a long low land shielded by trees heavy with pecans. They married Mexicans and Native Americans, built ranches that would eventually be removed from their possession by the government, and then scattered over Texas. My mother was born in Kenedy, Texas, a small town about an hour outside of San Antonio, and my grandfather moved their family down to the Rio Grande Valley when she was still a baby. He worked as a migrant worker, following the cotton harvest through South Texas, and when my mother was old enough she picked cotton, too. My grandfather, adverse to the idea of his children becoming life long migrant workers, moved his family to San Antonio where he opened a restaurant on the south side which he ran with my grandmother.
My father’s ancestors moved to Texas from the northern mountains of Mexico. They worked as ranchers, day laborers, maids, janitors, and seamstresses, most of them ultimately settling in or around San Antonio. My grandfather worked in a butcher shop and was rarely home. He lost the top halves of three of his fingers, but still manages to keep a well-tended garden. My great-grandmother taught my grandmother to sew on a black and gold Singer, so my grandmother sewed clothing, wedding dresses, quilts, and upholstery for money. She sewed my prom dress in high school and now gives me tips on buying fabric. My father grew up two houses away from his grandparents who raised rabbits and chickens in the backyard of their tiny green and white house on the south side of San Antonio.
My mother worked as a live-in maid and did clerical work while she was in high school. My father repaired roofs, picked fruit, and worked in restaurants until he left for college on a full scholarship. My parents met at a dance during their senior year of high school, and spent the next four years living in separate cities while my father finished school. They were both 22 years old when they got married. Over the next several years my parents moved around between small Texas towns, until they eventually moved back to San Antonio where they lived for 26 years. They now live in a tiny town a half hour outside of San Antonio.
I was born in San Antonio, Texas. I have one older brother who taught me a lot about music, popular culture, feminism, scouring vintage stores, and how to pay attention to all the stuff that no one else cares about. I have three living grandparents, nine aunts, six uncles, twenty six cousins, and one niece, and I am the only one in my entire family who lives outside of Texas. I moved to Austin when I was 18 for school, and moved to New York when I was 25, again for school. I now live on a tree-lined street in Brooklyn in a mostly Italian neighborhood which, more often than not, is pretty and quiet.
If I had to create a verbal hierarchical structure to describe myself I would say mexicana first, feminist second, and Texan third. If I had to create a verbal non-hierarchical structure to describe myself I would say dirigible, internally severe, and lace.
