My Life Until 12

Discussing my childhood can be a little difficult for me. I do not really remember much of my childhood, especially before my fifth grade year, making me about the age of ten. I really do not think I experienced any traumatic issues that have made me forget my life, just a lack of memory. I do know that I had a happy childhood, a good life, and have worked hard to get where I am today.

Being born on July 17, 1966 makes me a “Cancer,” and that could explain a lot of whom I really am. I was born back east in a Catholic Hospital in the Bronx, New York, what is known as Fort Apache. I hail from an ethnic background consisting of Columbian, Indian, Polish, and Puerto Rican ancestry. My family, colorful as they can be, consisted of one sibling, two parents (a mother and stepfather,) and me. My stepfather, who was the only father that I ever knew, was very mechanically inclined. He worked jobs such as a heavy machine mechanic and as a machinist. My mother primarily was the caregiver to two kids as well as holding down a full-time job as a secretary. One of the jobs she worked was being the secretary to the police chief of Grand Junction, where I grew up. My parents taught me that working hard does pay off, and they sure did work hard. We lived in a modest home close to my high school, which was convenient. Our home had plenty of room for four people to stretch even though it only had one bathroom.

My stepfather was not very educated; he never graduated from high school but he did receive his GED. He never went to college except for trade schools both for diesel mechanic and fine machine trades. Even though he had limited education, he was very book smart and had many different interests, especially when it came to working with his hands. This could be one of the reasons why I too am so interested in working with my hands and am so mechanically inclined. My mother on the other hand, worked and took care of the family until we left the home, and then she proceeded to pursue her bachelors in science in counseling from Mesa State College. She was a very nurturing person, making sure that we had everything that we needed growing up, and put my brothers’ needs and mine first.

As a family, we moved from back east, to Colorado, in the summer of 1977. Just imagine a family of four making the trek across the country with a 16-foot U-haul, and a station wagon, and a pop-up tent trailer. My brother and I were very young, only in fifth grade and third grade, and of course, I was the elder of the two. It was a summer of exploration, getting to travel across the country and back, and getting to see everything in-between; every experience was new. Moving to Colorado was an adventure. Every time we turned, there was a lot to see, do, and experience.
My family was not overly wealthy, but did pretty well. In fact, my mother still lives in the house that I grew up in, in Palisade, Colorado. My brother who is 22 months younger than me was not as studious as I was and he did not participate in any athletics, as I did. My brother also learned to value a hard days work for a days pay and works a job reproducing doors and windows and does some installations. My mother was an immigrant from Columbia, South America, and talks about her life growing up with the nuns when she came to New York. It was my mother’s job in New Jersey that brought us out to Colorado to start our new lives.

Growing up in Colorado was a hard change; there were no friends, new schools, and very different obstacles to deal with. Religion was always important in our family. My mother brought my brother and me up Catholic, but my stepfather was an atheist. Though we were not forced to attend church, my family was, in my opinion, religious. My family had very strong morals and beliefs. In my opinion, my parents used the authoritative parenting style because they were supportive, but were also very demanding. I had simple chores growing up, and I had to work for everything that I wanted; nothing was handed to me. My parents required hard work and good grades in school, and of course, good behavior and manners. I think this helped my social well being during my childhood.

Interviewing my mother really opened my eyes to some things in my childhood. She stated that the first five years of my life were very difficult. She was very young, barely 18 years old, and did not know anything about raising a child. She said that at three-months-old, my paternal aunt took care of me until I was eleven months old, because my mother had to work to take care of us. Being married to my biological father, she moved us to California, and lived on Beal Air Force base; this is where my brother was born. At the age of three, my mother moved us to New York, and this is when my parents separated. Even though he never wanted anything to do with our family, or me, I did grow up not hearing anything bad about him. Living in New York, my mother hired a lady who had similar styles of discipline as hers, and she took care of us until my stepfather came into the picture. The only father I ever knew did not come into the picture until I was about five years old. My mother said, as a young child, that we used to have a cat named Boots who used to ride on the dog’s back. My bother and I had a playroom, of all playrooms, which included a stove and a refrigerator. My mother used to tape up cereal boxes to use as toys and fill the kitchen with pots and pans. The one toy I always have remembered was the giant size Lincoln Logs that you put together; it was like having your own playhouse.

Looking back at my childhood through my twelfth year was not easy. I did find talking to my mother about our past very interesting and even a little enlightening. Everything that influenced me, as a child, has helped me to be the person who I am today. My parents have provided me with the tools to be a self-sufficient, reliable adult. Their morals have provided me with strong traits of being dependable, honest, and a hard worker.