MISS TITTY written by Carla M. Barela Shall I compare thee
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THE SURPRISE written by Carla M. Barela Spring is always a surprise
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THE DILEMMAwritten by Carla M. Barela All my life (well, most of it)
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THE NUN'S TALE written by Carla M. Barela I was a nun, a catholic nun, for twelve years. Really. And my first teaching assignment was St. Rose On The River -a ghetto school on the Ohio River, lower Cincinnati, Ohio. Our old red-brick two-story school was 75 feet from the banks of the Ohio --so close the school basement flooded -almost every other year. The school playground stretched right to the river a |
JOURNEY FROM SPANISH NUN TO WETBACK written by Carla M. Barela The moment occurred in Pueblo, Colorado in 2005. But first, let me give you the background. Shortly after I was born, I suffered years of therapy as a result of having polio. My dad was very fair, as was my mom. All of us, the kids, were quite fair except for Margaret, who was our family "morena." My two brothers, Margaret and I attended only catholic schools in Albuquerque where we lived a Disneyesque life. At home, we lived as Anglos, except for the Mexican food our mom prepared. We heard mom and dad speak Spanish, but we understood that to be the Spanish spoken in Spain. Thus, we never identified with the word Mexican as possibly referring to us. I moved to Pueblo in 1969 where I served as a nun under the auspices of the Sisters of Charity Religious Order through 1972. In 1973, my relationship with the Sisters of Charity was severed and I took a civilian position at Southern Colorado Sate College [1973-77] as Assistant Director and Community Coordinator of the SCSC 9th Cycle Teacher Corps Program. Following my stint as a Real Estate Broker for Jones Healy Real Estate, which culminated in 1978, I became a partner of Cortez Construction Company. I became the President and CEO of that Company in 1990 -a position I currently enjoy. During this period of change, my "real world" education took off. Still, I saw undocumented aliens as a group of people, but not my people. It wasn't until 2005 that my epiphany manifested. What started as a pleasant drive on the mesa in Blende ended up tossing my world upside down. It wasn't like I had never seen migrant workers in the fields before. But this time, watching them bending over diligently picking and pulling the pungent plants that would later grace my table, I found myself slowing down and looking back at them. My stomach twisted along with my head. It took me a while to figure out this feeling of confusion. Mind you, it was summer time and the temperature was well over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. But I remember feeling embarrassed for them and for myself at the same time. But why, I thought? Was I seeing them differently for the first time? What about at the 7-Eleven Stores? Hearing them speak Spanish; hearing them struggle with English; witnessing their homeless appearance. Fast forward to three weeks later. It hit me like a lightning bolt. I suddenly realized that my inner struggles had to do with my own identity. I didn't want anyone to think that I was one of them! After all, I graduated with a BMED degree in music education from an all women's college, The College of Mt. St. Joseph on·the Ohio with a major in music education, and I took my master"s degree in music education from CU Boulder! Besides, I was well dressed, and properly raised! Without dirt grinded hands, mud stained shoes and in need of dental care. Thankfully, that moment became my second epiphany. Because it was at that moment of questioning and doubt that I realized that we are the same. I wondered why it had taken me so long to figure this out? And at the same time, I felt so relieved that I had finally come to terms with my own identity. Now when I drive around Pueblo County and see "my people" working in the fields I sympathize with their plight. And I make yearly financial donations to their welfare through a nun I know who works with migrants in Avondale. After all, I share their genetic background, their history, their misery, their hopes and dreams. They are no longer invisible to me. Now, we are one. Copyright 2009 Dr. Elmer E. Wells |