What If You Knew?

What if you knew that I have a 6 year old daughter who never knew her father? What if you saw her standing there curly haired, barefoot in the mud, washing her clothes outside on a rock? What if you watched her in the classroom of 40 children, jammed together in the heat beneath noisy tin roof?  If she makes it to high school, this means she will have largely defeated the odds. Please don't ask her what she wants to be when she grows up. Please ask her what she would like to do if I have enough time to be with her today after I finish making tortillas, cleaning the house, feeding the pigs....

What if you knew that this is my story?

That this is part of my story.

What if you knew that I also longed to be a Secretary? I liked to study and I wanted to be able to be an independent woman. That was middle school. That was when the International organization came to build the outhouses for our community. My parents said they were money-makers. She told me that I was cute and that I should go be around them. They would buy me cookies and juice. They were nice to do that, I thought.
Then one day, they gave me a baby.
I didn't understand at the time.
Now I do.

What if you knew that I'm interested in world politics? I don't have access to many books or a computer. I just like to talk to people and ask them questions. And, sometimes, the news comes up spotty on my little television. I don't understand it all but I like to think. What if you knew that I liked to smile? I am a little shy to do so. But I am sarcastic and my toughness is just protection over my sweet vulnerability. I learned that from the men who bought me cookies and juice.

What if you knew that I work really hard? My father does not go to the fields often anymore because he drinks a lot. He says, "What good is it anyways to go? I only get $4 a day." His beans and rice don't provide like they used to. Not since the land has dried up and all the trees have disappeared. Not since the imports became so cheap. He can't compete with the prices and anyways alcohol is cheap. It's like those little bottles of Pepsi that cost less than a bottle of water. I'm not mad at him, though. I just keep working really hard. My friends parents have more money. But they have gotten so sick from working in the industrialized sugar cane fields. I can't stand the smell they bring when they get on the buses covered in chemicals and pesticides. So my father drinks sometimes. Then he goes to sleep. I don't blame him so much, we don't have any other options for work. We are farmers. And we live on a farm.

What if you knew that I am not so unhappy?

I have work. I have children. I have a family.
We are safe here. We don't have much so money so the gangs don't bother us.
My neighbors are around when I need them.
There's not much to complain about when you keep busy.

What if you knew that I am okay?

Sure, I could improve my health. Of course, our house needs a new roof. Damn, I'd love to be able to be a Secretary.

I'm okay, though.

Inside me I have a heart that beats and it grows when I give and receive hugs from my daugther and have good conversations with friends and people who listen.

I like when people come and sit down in front of me and look me in the eyes. It feels good to be respected.

I am a strong woman. Physically and emotionally. Life taught me to be this way. I am also organized, dedicated and hard-working. I don't talk about these things. You just see it in in my calf muscles and the squint in my eyes. You can see it in the way I have my room kept, alongside that of my mothers, daughters, sisters and nieces. You can tell because we get by. We have food on the plate almost every meal.

Not everyone in my community is like this, no. Sometimes, I think people want to stay in poverty. I don't see them working. How did this happen? I don't know. It makes me sad. Do they thing the NGOs will continue to keep coming and giving? Even with the outhouses, paved road, and little spurts of money, I don't see those people changing. I don't see their attitudes getting better or contributing more to our community. No, not everyone who lives here with few resources work hard. And I don't know why! Maybe this is just part of their human nature.

But, I am a strong woman. A mother who works hard. A good friend. And I have a lot to share if people would listen.

I have a lot to offer. But nobody knows about me. They just know the stories that get sold on the internet that flash faces that look like me.
Hardly anyone really listens.
Only a few have sat before me and asked.
Only a few have seen into my eyes.
I would share the things that I know and the things that I can do.

I need help. Of course. Don't you?
Don't you need help with your taxes and your marriage? Don't you need help with your heartburn and your depression? Don't you need help?
But what if someone doesn't understand your bank statements or your relationship with your wife? What if they don't know what really makes you sad?
Does their money fix you?

How can someone help if they don't really understand?
If they don't really listen.

What if you really knew?

What if I asked you to question what you have been told your whole life?
To forget it all.
And, just sit there
and be with me.
As two human beings.