June 15, 2008
I was born on a cold and snowy El Paso day in 1969 to a Chilean mother who came here on a Fulbright to get a Master's Degree and an American father, a UTEP professor who wrote my name on the chalkboard when he taught his class that morning. I would spend much of my childhood on the University campus, watching generations of feral cats from my father's office window or climbing out of dumpsters as I walked up the ramp to the Fox Fine Arts building and into the ballet studio that was my second home. I practically lived at Magoffin Auditorium, doing homework and eating dinner at the theater while we rehearsed "The Nutcracker," "Sleeping Beauty," "The Firebird," "The Unicorn, the Gorgon & the Manticore," "Pineapple Poll," "Scheherazade," "Cinderella," and so many more. Those were great days for Ballet El Paso and in all my years at the San Francisco Ballet School I never saw a dancer so breathtaking or exquisite as our very own Renee Segapeli, and I had seen some of the very best in the world.
Growing up behind Chelmont Shopping Center I was one of many kids in the neighborhood who spent their summers at the Chelsea Pool or their evenings talking and laughing at Chico's Tacos. Going to Juárez for groceries or a nice dinner was just another Saturday. It was a childhood full of reading, classical music, recycling in the desert, enjoying menudo with my Mexican friends, and learning how to properly "saludar," eat an artichoke, and set a table, from my Chilean mother.
My dream from childhood had been to dance and I lived and breathed ballet but the funny thing is that after all those years of hard work and dedication I found my calling when I was working for a temp service on the East and West sides in the '90s. People would come in to our offices looking for work because they had been transplanted here for one reason or another. I couldn't help but tell every single one of them about the many treasures in El Paso, especially the people. Have you been here? Have you eaten there? Have you seen that? I would write things down, make reservations for them, I would do anything to make sure they remembered El Paso the way it should be remembered: as the warmest, friendliest, richest place on earth.
In 2006 I got the job as the executive director of Community Scholars and I happily moved in to my office upstairs from Cinco Puntos Press where I purchase kids' birthday gifts mostly so I can stop by and chat, look at those colorful books, and smell Cactus Mary soaps. A stroll Downtown to grab some coffee or a sandwhich, taking a different route each time so I can study every single building or run into an old friend, is one of the highlights of my Downtown life. I get to work closely with smart, engaged young men and women and I meet people from our community, ordinary people doing extraordinary things. Steve Yellen is one of those people.
I received an email from him inviting me to preview "Basketball in the Barrio" at the Plaza Theater and I gladly accepted because you can't resist Steve's positive attitude or his passion for giving back to this community. I sat watching the documentary with tears of joy streaming down my face because I was inspired by the many faces and voices on the screen in front of me. The next day I recounted the story of Basketball in the Barrio as if I had witnessed a birth because this wonder truly is one more precious facet of this jewel I call home. "¡Qué milagro!" we say when we haven't seen each other in a while because here, we don't take people for granted.
What barrio are you from?