I submitted this for Houston Texans’ Glover Quin’s inspirational story Facebook contest. I didn’t win, but I enjoyed writing it and thought I’d share it with anybody. 

There was a moment where I felt like I needed to do something about my situation. My wife told me we were having our first child. But what?

We were check to check and I was working a “part time” gig at FEDEX waiting for a full time position to open, it didn’t. With my son Damian on the way my stress began to grow and my hair began to gray. I picked up another “part time” job.

I put it in quotations because there were days where I’d work from 3 a.m. to 8p.m. I’m not the only one! I know plenty of guys on the dock that go through this. It’s not uncommon to hear, “where else do you work,” because the American dream isn’t realized through winning lottery tickets.

Here’s the moment: I was awakened by the sound of ice hitting the windshield of my car. For an instant I didn’t know where I was. A lady asked if I was alright and I responded, “NO”. I was exhausted. So much so I had fallen asleep in line at the drive-thru of a local Jack in the Box. Thank God I didn’t take my foot off the brake pedal.

When I got home I told my wife this life wasn’t for me, this can’t be forever. I asked her to let me give school one more try and if I didn’t make it this time then I’d apply for a driver’s position as soon as one opened up. I enrolled at Houston Community College that fall.

This was it. I had everything I needed to get a four year degree. I did it everyday for the last four years. My schedule was hectic. I would wake up to work the graveyard shift then go to class year-round. I did everything I could to make it work. I learned on the fly how to make college work for me. I would wait countless hours in lines for financial aid, advising, and registration. I’d get old credit hours from other schools I had attended.

I also traded my newer car for a much older Chevy Cavalier. All that mattered to me at that point was getting my degree. My first semester was the hardest because I had plenty of self-doubt. I was 24 and I had tried school many times before, but I just wasn’t focused. But all I could think about was the old saying my middle school principal used to say “If it is to be it is up to me”.

I knew I wanted to be a sports reporter. Actually I want to anchor for Sportscenter. So algebra history whatever, bring it on! That’s how I felt. I’d heard people say that college isn’t for everyone, but I know that to be wrong. College is for everyone… who is willing to sacrifice their time.

I completed my first successful semester. I made the Dean’s list and also joined Phi Theta Kappa, the National Honor Society of the Two Year College. While earning my Associate’s degree at HCC I volunteered my time with PTK to various causes, including cleaning and gutting out Hurricane Ike ravaged homes in Galveston. I must have planted a hundred trees on Arbor Day. I never knew what it was like to give, because I had always needed growing up.

Two years went by and I found myself at Minute Maid Park. I saw myself on the big screen. I can remember as a kid doing everything I could to get on that screen at the dome. I did it. I was getting my Associates degree and I thought for a brief moment, phew! But reality sunk in and I was only half way done and it was time for me to face the last two years.

I told myself the University of Houston would be a breeze mainly because I would truly be interested in the classes I’d be taking. I was right, partially. Easy in the sense that my interest allowed me to stay motivated. But my schedule on the other hand told a different story. Because I knew professional experience would be essential to my future in journalism, I interned every semester starting that winter, including summers. I even took Saturday classes to ease up the workload during the week.

I felt like a robot because of my monotonous, broken record schedule. It was the same thing everyday work, school, internship and sleep. The hardest part was not so much the minimal sleep or the hectic schedule, but more so the lack of time with my family. I can remember going days without seeing my son. I’d step in his room and he’d be sound asleep. I’d remind myself that this was for the better.

The day came where I was seconds away from crossing the stage. It seemed like all those years in school were shorter than the minutes leading up to the handshake from President of the University of Houston Renu Khatur. There were so many things running through my mind that I became emotional. Tears formed. What happens to a dream deferred? Mine festered. But it didn’t die. It became a son’s desire to become what his father could hardly imagine as a child in Mexico working on the same land that his father did.

I thought it’d be downhill from that point. Quite the contrary… I’m still at Fedex and I just finished my fifth internship at the Children’s Museum of Houston. I’ve started an unpaid communications position with the Break Free Community Center in southeast Houston. I’ve been fortunate enough to help Bboy Moy Rivas, who’s traveled the world and is now home in Houston giving back to the community in a major way.

I’ve heard my work on the radio, appeared on the local news dressed as a cowboy, I’ve taken video of a brain surgery performed by one of the world’s leading neurosurgeons and taken pictures that are featured on the Children’s Museum’s website and although I haven’t found a job I feel accomplished because of the things I’ve done in the last four years.

With the all the work I’ve put in I’m sure something will become of it. I know that with God and my family’s support all things are possible and in the words of my favorite lyricist Common, “One day it’ll all make sense.”

A quick side bar: I won a pair of tickets to the Gold Cup Semifinals through twitter! This happened days after I signed up. I was going to take my wife, but she realized the night before that she doesn’t like soccer. I took my dad who celebrated his birthday in June two days after mine and I gave it to him as a combo #birthfathersdaygift.

HOUSTON — Of the close to 70,000 fans at Reliant Stadium there were few people that rooted against team USA that night. The irony of the situation was that they too waved a red, white and blue flag. But they were grossly outnumbered and not by the other red, white and blue. It was the red, white and green or rather el tri.

I honestly didn’t expect that given the recent (loose use) border war controversy. But in actuality it was quite the opposite and not just for the Mexican faithful, but also for the few Americanos that were on hand to cheer for their under appreciated team.

As the whistle blew you could hear the raucous crowd and even more so, the band that was 20 rows up. They might as well have been next to my ears. It wasn’t long before Houston’s finest paid them a visit. Come on! The stadium banned what the guy in front me is hiding (vuvuzelas or some variation), but you can’t take away the drummer!! This is a Futbol game for Fifa’s sake! It wasn’t long before he returned with another drum. This one was a tad bit smaller. But what was more important is the crowd had its percussion and the melting pot had its stirrer once again.

The first half was a bit of a bore and if it weren’t for el Chavo del Ocho and his companera la Chilindrina making a grand entrance with a gigante univision sign I would have never learned what the word Astucia means. But I focused on that so much that I forgot the rest of the sentence and never got the context. Oh well, I did however manage to get several pictures of Mr. Ocho and Chilindrina taking flicks with lots of fans. I’m not the waiting in line kind of guy, but I did get a solo shot of both.

Back to live Action

Once team USA scored the chants were loud and proud: U-S-A, U-S-A!!! I’ve never felt so proud to be Mexican-American. Asi es bro. No me digas nada! So, then it hit me there’s something missing. But what? Oh here it comes, la onda holmes! It went around at least four times. I’ve been to two major futbol events at Reliant Stadium and maybe four football games. Sorry Texans, but you’re lacking in the fan fanaticism department. Paper airplanes were reaching the field, luchador mask wearing hooligans and oh yea someone got on the field. 

The best part about the field runner was when the Panamanian goalie passed him the ball pero lo fayo. The shirtless man made it back to his spot, but the fun police forced him in cuffs to the exit.

I sat there and argued…er debated with my dad about how I would do it in a heartbeat, but he said no cause you’d miss the game. I’m still putting it on the bucket list (maybe not).

Because It’s been so long (It’s 8/17) and I can’t remember the whole night I will conclude with this. For one night the country seemed truly indivisible. Mexicans cheered for the US and vice versa. It was fun to be in a worry free atmosphere with my father and tens of thousands of my closest friends.