Another Type A - Kid of an Immigrant

I know exactly where I get my feisty go go attitude from.  You may think my dad.  You meet him once and see a tough guy.  Nah!  I get it from my Azorean mom.  She came to America with her parents and worked on a dairy farm in northern California as a young girl.  My gramma cleaned hotel rooms.  My grandfather was a "pond monkey" at the lumber yard.  Not an easy task when you are talking about redwoods.  Jumping from moving log to moving log knowing you will be crushed if you fall in.  Many never made it out of that job but Joe was a good swimmer in the old country.  No money but freedom.  Priceless freedom to be anything you want to be.  You just have to work for it.   You better bet I was brought up to know that fact and earn it.  I married a first generation American just to top it off for extra measure.  Two young kids that only know one truth.  It's possible.  If you fall on your face and you bet we have done that, you GET UP.  You get up because you want to honor the lives of the dairy hand, the maid and the pond monkey.  They made a sacrifice for a child that wasn't born yet.  They had a dream for me before I arrived, an American dream.

Just drop it at the door

Everyone has ways to define themselves as human beings.  Some are easy to see.  I'm short and brunette (well, according to the box).  I smile and say "HI!" to random people as regularly as possible.  Some things you may need to have a cup of coffee with them for a spell to find out.  I'm direct and brutally honest to a fault.  I sit on one leg and bounce my feet.  I have a passion for passionate people.  I love seeing their faces light up when they talk about what they love about life.  Other things you would need to know the person a lifetime to figure.  Fears, dreams, love lost and found.  No two people the same.  No two ideas match.  The question then is:  How do you get all of this color, texture and life to agree to disagree on everything but peace and safety?   Shed the definitions and appreciate each other for the humanity in our souls.  Come together as one people.  Just make the decision.  Drop it at the door I say.  Trust that respect of life will be all you need.

Power of Positivity

If there is one thing that I have learned in my journey with Take Back Santa Cruz is the power of positive energy.  I realized after helping start the group that indeed there are people in my community that are NOT against the proliferation of gangs, drugs and abusive behavior but indeed condone it.  Who would want innocent people to fall pray to criminal activity?  I innocently thought that by helping our youth find healthy activities and at the same time making it clear we don't tolerate criminal activity that we would be able to flourish as a society.  To have the COMMUNITY stand up for each other.  Yes, government has it's place but our communities are being pushed to the side.  Perhaps we have been pushing ourselves aside?  I don't know how we got here but what I do know is we need to be a part of the solution.  I find every time the rhetoric shows up or shouts it's hateful words it only lifts up the Take Back Santa Cruz cause.  People know positive and negative forces.  They can feel it.  I have allowed them to make the choices of what they believe.  It's my job to show them who I am as a human being.  I define who I am through my actions and words.  I have the power in myself.  I choose for that power to be one rooted in positive forces and not that of the negative ones.  Those that choose to listen will see my spirit.  

A3 means to turn the page.

In October of 2009 I was minding my own business.  I was going through the motions and checking all of life's boxes off appropriately.  I smiled at my neighbors, had friends and family.  I knew that the community around me was falling apart but like everyone else I would just shrug.  I would read the paper.  Usually there would be a horrible story sprawled across the front.  Turn to page A3 for the rest of the story?  No thanks.  What's the point?  I will just have another small scratch in my armor that I have put in place against such things.  A coping mechanism that so many of us have resorted to.  We have no power against the criminal deeds that ebb and flow around us.  Right?  Right?