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Learning Young
Yesterday morning my daughter comes into my room, I was lying on the bed feeding my son. Her dad had been playing with her in the living room downstairs, I could hear them laughing and having a good time. He's sooo good with her, she's his little woman. It's adorable. The doorbell had rang, and I assumed it was one of the homeboys, so made no thought of it. He yells up the stairs, I'll be right back. Ok. So she comes in, and she tells me, "Ama, yo cuando este grande, quiero ser una chola, igual que las amigas de mi Pa. Hoy, quiero que me pones una camisa color red y unos pantalones, bien planchados igualles como los de mi Pa. Yo voy a ser como mi Pa cuando este grande. Todos todos todos me van a tener miedo." I didnt know what the say. I had so many mixed emotions, I didnt know where to go. I picked up my son, who was not paying any mind to what his sister was talking about, he was eating away. I lay him down in his crib and pick her up, sitting down with her on my lap. I had tears in my eyes, trying to explain to my FOUR YEAR OLD why being a chola like daddy's friends wasnt a good thing. They are nice girls, but they made a bad choice, and she doesnt need to be like that. SHe in turn started crying, "Tu a mi no me quieres. Le voy a decir a mi Pa que no me quieres, que eres una Ama bien mala. Le voy a decir que te pone una chinga, pa que se te quite ese costumbre." Damn, what do I say? Such a brilliant little baby...so beautiful...sucha bright future ahead of her. And what the hell does she want to be? A chola. Damn. Who is to blame for this? Him? For letting her think it's ok to live a life like we have to live? Me? For not getting my kids away from sucha bad situation from day 1? |