Potato, Patato y Papas

My mom pushed her grocery cart out of the bread aisle and toward the piles of produce.

She wasn’t there to take her time and look around or see what over-the-top dinner she could make that night. Rather, she was there with a short grocery list, where even the basics of her list were compromised. She needed just enough food to get her through the week. Calculating the total in her head each time she placed something in her cart and pushing that cart slower as she neared her $15 budget -- she remembered she needed one more thing: potatoes.

A sign above the sacks read “Buy one Bag get one FREE.”

She didn’t need that many potatoes. It wasn’t a big family gathering where her famous potato salad would be hunted down by cousins, uncles and aunts. She just needed enough to make caldillo for the week - enough to get by.

She was a smart shopper, a bargain finder and a strong Hispanic woman who could quite literally serve an army a memorable Mexican dish with the last three things in her fridge and cabinets.

She knew how to stretch a dollar and spend her time wisely. After all, she had six kids to feed and budgeting was her forte. But not one of us kids growing up recognized the struggle she endured in stretching the family dollar after my dad went on strike, when I was born. He worked odd-end jobs, blue-collar pay and graveyard shifts to put food on the table. For breakfast, lunch and dinner -- we ate like a traditional Mexican family would. From her famous huevos rancheros, bean burritos, chicken enchiladas, carne molida, chile rellanos and her own twist on sweat tea -- you'd never think we grew up poor.

It wasn't until I went to high school did I realize my parents gave us every last penny they worked tirelessly for. Whether it was for school lunch, extra-curricular activities or just to have fun with friends at the movies.

My mother is a woman of God, a soldier of love and a person who exudes pure peace and calm. She's in tune with her Holy Spirit, and is one who knows the power of unceasing prayer, petition and thanksgiving. Sometimes as a child, I wondered if she knew God personally - just like I believed she knew Santa when I was a kid.

Crystal's Corner: A Decade Later

It started in high school: I became a writer.

 

I received an opportunity as a columnist for my high school newspaper. My column, "Crystal's Corner," allowed me to express my views on a wide-range of topics that reflected my perspectives as an eager teenager and a very mature young woman.

 

My column brought my views to the table as they were published in the middle of an eight-page publication called, "The Observer."

 

The two-years I wrote this monthly column opened my eyes to more than my byline regularly appearing in the corner of the newspaper but something bigger: the power of self-expression.

A decade later, I still find myself coming up with witty headlines, meaningful topics and writing brief leads in my head -- thinking ‘Oh this would have made for a good topic in "Crystal's Corner."

 

A few local newspaper awards, national journalism competitions, a degree and a couple news gigs later -- I still hear that teenage voice in my head dissecting news topics and encouraging me to write about the biggest and smallest encounters I've experienced in everyday life.

 

Crystal’s Corner was named by my high school journalism teacher, Donna Griffin, and came to an end the month I got my diploma.

Oddly, before the days of social media, I had many followers and ’Likes’ from peers that looked forward to next month’s issue of "Crystal's Corner." I had emails from strangers around the community and even teachers who were inspired by words from a teen who thought she knew everything. It probably wasn’t the prom story they could relate to but the underlying message of gratitude most of my stories carried.

 

Not that my story on my grandmother’s life was so different from their grandparents- but instead helped them realize there's no time to take family for granted. Reading back on a few of my columns, I too was a little impressed at the level of maturity my words held then. Did I really know what I was talking about?

 

Today, I can say - perhaps I had a point. Self expression was the hand I was dealt as a stubborn, talkative and debatable child.

I wrote for a couple small newspapers during my college years. But as a general assignment reporter, there was nothing creative for me about following the “pyramid” pattern and covering the five W’s. My mind was stuck on writing articles that inspired, triggered emotion and gave readers topics they could personally relate to.

I lost hope as a column writer when I no longer was the editor-in-chief of my high school newspaper. I was just another one of the hundreds of college students in my classes trying to be the next successful journalist.

In journalism, they say one of the biggest responsibilities of a reporter is to allow the people in the community to be heard -- those who otherwise would not have a voice.

 

Well, as a column writer --I felt it was my responsibility to be heard and to somehow inspire and encourage those in the community to have a voice. I always had a “When-you-want-something-you-get-it” type of attitude growing up. Still do. Believe me it pays off. While it’s a common theme in many of my articles, it’s also one of those, “I-should-take-my-own-advice" type of situations. I found myself skimming through a shoe box off old columns thinking, "How ironic - if I only knew now what I thought then."

With the swift advances in today’s technology- everybody seems to be at the top of their game. We have more self-acclaimed rappers, singers, reality stars, directors and journalists -- all thanks to venues like YouTube, Facebook, Twitter and ahem…Blogger.com.

So, here I am, on this website, giving "Crystal's Corner" a makeover -- a new lifeline with the realization this elite group of bloggers has somehow found a way to evolve into a respectable source.

As of this moment, my future as a television journalist lies in the hands of news and sports directors around the nation, so while I’m in limbo in the comfort of my hometown where most of my memories lay in my parent's house -- I'm inspired to write again. It's that 16-year-old inside me, nagging and pressing me to share with you my thoughts, my experiences, my faith and my opinion on a variety of topics of today and yesterday. So get ready. "Crystal’s Corner" is back. Enjoy.