Our family is still

shaping and forming in its infancy,

we are three years old.


We are our own trinity,

merged by love

strengthened by steadfastness.


Our young roots are pushing

deeply into the earth,

interlocking as we expand into one another…

Father, Mother, and Son.


My own personal family

had lost hope through

poverty, violence, addictions and dismay.

The affliction of absent, unknown traditions, languages,

and history, overburdened me.


My ancestors were poor farmers and workers

who struggled in the newly declared Queens country,

while the invasion and ongoing centuries of wars

tore apart my great grandmother’s land.

The tribes ancient and foreign forsworn,

bore generations of abuse and conflict …

in search of a perennial with a broad trunk to preserve and protect.


My husband’s family,

has a strong tree.

Their history planted with each sibling,

watered with tenderness and pruned with toughness.

They are a close, loving, family

shaped by strong women.

Feeding their spirits with celebration, familial food,

self-worth, mutual respect.


Their Father Tree was the

Revolution of Pancho Villa.

Their Mother Tree was the

Armed Women of Mexico:

Freedom Fighters.


Their tree is tall and shadows

Mexico and the United States.

My own feet were sturdy nevertheless I was a seedling.

I’m breaking generational patterns and cycles,

creating narratives, customs and a healthy, vibrant legacy for my son.

I’m the first in my family’s saga.


My husband’s roots and my vision for the future,

are the foundation of our new heritage.

As we give sustenance to one another,

we know we hold our son’s future …

Our Growing Tree.