I am the youngest of my family. Actually I am the youngest of
generation in my dad’s side of the family. I have two older brothers, way older
than me. One is 13 years my senior, and the other is 9. I have always thought I was an unplanned baby, since there is a huge gap between us, but that is one
question you can’t pop to your parents. “Hey mom, so, was I an ops?” I wouldn’t
blame alcohol, since they are very Christians and I have never seen them
drunk. They were into their forties when they had me. My
dad worked for the Federal government, and my mother work with the State
Government. They had 7am-4pm jobs, so most of the time I spend it with my
brothers or at my Nana’s. Is not that I didn’t see my parents, but my dad put
long hours at his job during the week, and on the weekends he and mom worked
around the house. We usually spend Sunday’s together, at church, a very hot boring church if I can say.
During the week I stayed at my Nana’s, they lady that took care of
me after school. It was in the projects were my mother grew up. I walked to her
house every day from school with my brother, the middle one. I really hated
this because I am pretty sure my mother gave my brother money for the bus, but
he always had to have a mayorca for snack after school so we would walk while
he ate his mayorca. We would walk from bus stop 19 in Santurce to stop 24, and
then we would get deep into Santurce to get to Nana’s. Every day I saw so many
people, mostly people that worked in the businesses or government offices in Santurce,
but I would also see so many homeless people, which became regulars in our
walks, or just random characters that lived in Santurce at the time. We always
remember La Nena, because she was really hard to miss. She was this 70
something lady that would wear neon spandex and very revealing shirts for her
age. She wore heavy make up all the time and very high heels. I don’t think she
was a prostitute, since she was so old, but there was something about her. She
looked so sad, all the time.
Once at my Nana’s house I would meet other kids that were waiting
for their parents too. We took a shower, ate, and made our homework. Since my
mother was from the projects, I was the only one allow to go out and play with
the “local” kids. Most of them were from single parent homes, or they lived
with their grandmothers. We would play Cops and Bandits, I was always a cops,
and I was so slow it was torture. We also used to climb up where the garbage
cans were. I know it sound really nasty, but it wasn’t. The cans were in this
little open space and had the handyman’s office right next to it. So we would
climb up to the little roof and just jump back to the ground. They treated me
differently, because although my mother was a “local”, she left the project,
and was middle class now. So no matter how fast I ran, how good I was at
baseball or jumping fences, I was not one of them completely. I was also the
only girl most of the time, so that was another battle I had to fight. A girl
couldn’t be that good at baseball apparently.
The time I didn’t spend at Nana’s I was at home. We lived in a nice
neighborhood. The one were house have pools and baseball hoops. During the
weeks I would get home and read a little bit, eat again and then go to bed. No
wonder I was so overweight during my teenage years. I spent half of them
eating. I really didn’t like sleeping at my house. My brothers were always
making night pranks, and I was always scared. I never went to bed before
midnight and that very hard for a kid. There is not so much you can talk with your
dolls at 9. I was always aware, because they teased me a lot, and took
advantage of their age against me. Sometimes my mother would leave them chores
to do, and they would make me do them. All the time. My parents never knew they “abused” me that
much, since they thought being older they would have been more responsible and
caring to their little sister. But now that I am older, I don’t blame them.
It’s in our genes, making fun of people, pranking them. I would have probably
done the same.
During the weekends, if the abuse wasn’t going on, we would go out
around the island, and on Sundays we would go to church. My parents were very
involved in church. So involved that sometimes during the week, we would go to
church too. I didn’t mind going to church, except for the heat in that
building. It was so hot, that if I wore pantyhose I’d be scratching my legs the
whole service. My brothers went with us until they were old enough to decide
that church on a Sunday wasn’t fun, and the bed was cozier than a wooden bench.
I had to keep going, not only because I was a minor, but I was a Sunday school
teacher to kids younger than me. At first it was very fun. But when I got into
my teens I also wanted to stay in bed.
Once I got into college I broke down the church cycle. Little by
little I stopped going. When you start college, you blend with so many people.
You start questioning things you didn’t question before. And you sadly start
seeing the reality of life. I started to see how they would say things in
church, like loving everybody, but then slashing people that didn’t believe in
what “we thought”. I started to see that to be a good person, a good civilian;
you didn’t have to go to church. My mother kept begging me to go to church, she
still does, but I have come to an agreement of going once a year, twice if
there is something very important, like a baptism.
So being the youngest of the family, and spending time with
different kinds of people shaped me into the person I am today. I don’t judge
people from their background. I have been in both sides of the spectrum, and
there is no difference. If you are a good person, why should it matter where
you were raise or grew up? I blend well at very group I have to join or work
with. When you are the youngest you get raise by your parents, your brothers,
your nana, the church, school, and you get a little bit of every one. At least
I did. I am a blend of the way my parents thought, of what brothers made me do
for them, what I taught in church, what I learned in college, and what I
believe now. I am probably not what my parents expected me to be, but I have
never been arrested (knock on wood), never been fired from a job. And everybody
that meets my parents tells them how great of a person/friend/coworker I am.
I might be the youngest, but I honestly think I am the wiser, and
funnier.
