Stories

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  My mother, Manuela Huerta de Matute

  María Eugenia Matute

    My mother, Manuela Huerta de Matute, was born of poor Mexican immigrant parents in 1913. Her father, Albino Huerta, had been recruited from Mezquital del Oro, a very small town in Zacatecas, Mexico, to help build the railroads as part of the economic expansion of the American Southwest. He...
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  Strawberry Farm Dreams

  Roberto Leal

  It was 1956 and my Tia Alicia, Tio Antonio and their seven daughters were farm workers living in a three-bedroom, one bathroom shack on a huge strawberry farm close to Highway 1, the Pacific Ocean, in the agricultural community of Watsonville.
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  The Viramontes and Jaquez Story

  Gregory Miles Viramontes

  My father is from Compton and my mother is from Watts, California. My family roots are deeply rooted in Los Angeles and Los Angeles is where I call home.
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  A Family Affair

  Sammy Vickers

  ...she was finally presented with the diploma she earned decades ago.
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  The Shoulders We Stand On

  Alexis Nicole Meza

  I am fascinated with stories, and learning about the stories of others. Yet, its been the biggest struggle to learn about my own.
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  Monsters In My Head

  Carissa Marie Carrasquillo-Figueroa

  Like water these memories are now crashing around in my mind, like water on rocks. I feel a sense of urgency, that at all costs put it all down, and to tell what I can.
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  My Journey Through Life

  Chloe Leclair

  Although my birth mother had to make a huge sacrifice by giving me up, she game me another chance at life to have a wonderful, loving family and so many wonderful opportunities.
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  My Life So Far

  Delaney Runyon

  My education is something I definitely take for granted sometimes so I try to remind myself that many others would die for the opportunity to get an education...
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  The Mountains are Calling

  Ryan Tessier

  Another part of my life, my formative years shaped, was my pursuit of long-distance running. I began running cross-country and track my freshman year of high school.
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  Standing on the Shoulders of Ma Rosa y Mama...

  Valerie Jaimes

  I’m at a point in my life where deep reflection dawns on a desire and overwhelming pressure to revitalize and continue my family’s stories.
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  At The End of The Day

  Alana

  I stand on the shoulders of two people that worked with the circumstances they were given to provide opportunities for their children.
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  My Mother's Knees

  Ruth

  Although she had nice legs, her knees were bent together in an odd position at the center. She always preferred to keep them covered

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