Rene MartinezSoul VangEnglish 1A 36266Field”Wake up, son,” I remember when I was 11 and hated hearing just those three words.
At 11 years old, I never faced any adversities or knew what my parents went through. I didn’t have an immigrant mentality, the drive, the hunger for change, I was what you could describe as ignorant, at eleven years old, I never realized that. I vaguely remember the moon shining really bright, it was a full moon, and everything seemed calm and deserted, everyone was sound asleep. Suddenly I hear the roar of my dad’s car starting. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was a vast area of sand along with endless rows of the grape vineyard. When I got out of the car all I could hear were cars going to and from places, along with roosters crowing.
I was shivering from the freezing cold, and then my dad handed me a pair of dirty worn out gloves and a six-inch serrated blade, the blade, originally silver, but stained by grape juice after years of being used. My dad got straight to work, and I stood there, angry, already wanting to go home. A couple of minutes pass and my dad explains to me the technique of cutting the grapes, and told me to just kind of mess around, to get the hang of it. The leaves where vibrant green, with water dew, the grapes were perfectly round and so plump, I remember enjoying the view for a while. No one was out working in the fields with my dad and me, I didn’t mind though. My dad kept trying to teach me, and talk to me about hardship but at that age, I didn’t care. I checked the time on my watch, and it was already 8:00 am, I was warmed up from the sun, and warmed up practicing using the knife to cut the grapes.
My dad was constantly telling me to not mess around with the knife because I could hurt myself. I wanted to prove him wrong, and so I started working faster, I was getting frustrated at the same time because there were tiny little flies that were getting all in my face. They were getting in my eyes, my nose, buzzing in my ear, I could feel the weird tickling sensation in my ears. I started swinging around recklessly and had I forgotten that I have the knife in my hand. I try to avoid the flies but at 11 years old, I am not very focused nor wise enough to simply avoid them. With all the commotion I am making, my dad thinks something happened to me and rushes over. I didn’t want my dad to see me acting foolish because I thought he would just look for a reason to make fun of me for being so naive, I lied and told him nothing happened.
I calmed down but at 11:00 am the sun is raised up high. I can’t see the sun, but I can feel its presence, the sun rays are like whips, lashing down on all living things, evaporating any moisture. The weather changed so abruptly, and I wasn’t feeling motivated anymore. My father checked up on me, and he told me to take a break because my face started getting all red like what happens during a fever.
I look at him, and he looks like a kid who’s been playing in mud all day, his face covered with dirt from having to kneel down to cut the grapes, and his face dried up, all cut up too. He’s wearing the same clothes he’s been wearing for years to work, blue dickies, and a white striped long sleeve shirt, with steel toes boots, and his clothes all tattered up, and dirty. I remember feeling weak because I was giving my all but could not keep up with the work my dad was outputting. Now that I look back he has a strong why, a strong mentality, his body worn out from working for 30 years in the fields, but has a strong why, to keep pushing, to sacrifice, to finish every day, through all the hazardous events, a hunger to eat. All this time I thought I had life hard, but this one day showed me the true character of my father.