I am from soul full black vinyl 45’s spun round a silver turn table; dancers in the golden hour whipping particles of dust into the shimmering light; fingers snapping, hands clapping, feet tapping with time, and evenings with hot homemade served meals without fail.
I am from endless inky skies covering vast forest land and abundant farms, with a canopy of twinkling stars winking upon the midnight train as it echoed its long whistle; heard through a moon lit window pane of a hushed countryside home- on the outskirts of a crumbling buick city.
I am from the leaning white pine, once the height of a small child, now towering crooked into the sky. From black eyed susans blooming on my birth day; dusty graveled roads that always led me home, the silver maple, ivory hydrangea, and sunsets viewed above an aromatic land of golden grain.
I am from Kern sausage and dill Havarti cheese picnics on the banks of the Cass River. I am from roughly calloused hands that peeled dainty red grapes for the young to chew, from women with fierce pride and bottomless compassion, from men who faced adversity and spit in its eye.
I am from Jewel Edward, Alice Louise and Ramon Felipe, Maria Carmen. Familia raised in the grips of the great depression, and La Mexican Cristiada.
I am from the sharp senses of tequila testers, judges, lawyers, railroad men, photographers, and from the hard hands of cotton field pickers, brave World War II air force pilots, General Motors employees, and dance instructors. I’m from strong and often hard headed women who made their home their very first priority.
From a recluse uncle on the East Side of Flint, another uncle that we never talk about and from mi abuelo that I never knew, but I can blame for my love of photography and my large nose, they tell me.
I am from Roman Catholicism, rich in century honored rituals, and raised along with the back woods brimstone Southern Baptist traditions on my mother’s side. Both religions have guided my faith, but God and His promise are what keep me grounded.
I am from the great harvested lands of God’s grains. UAW sit down strikes, from the great lake state, and the swartz creek. From my grandfather who witnessed hundreds of people being baptized in the muddy Mississippi waters, and from the strength of a mother who lost her first son to the clutches of yellow fever.
I am from put your family first and live your life in honesty. From a stubborn and colorful past, fueled with undying love, strength, and determination of the endlessly working men and women.
And I am part of their legacy, our history, for generations to come.
Alita shares visions, novelties, writings, and ambitions with others at