Beanie Baby

Horseradish

By Michael Sitzman

Author's Note: This is a true story; only the names have been changed. It is not meant to express an opinion; merely to present a glimpse into a human life.

MÓNICA: My name is Mónica. Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I hardly know myself. I've been through so much in my 19 years and I'm still a rebel. I've been in trouble with my mom, school, and the law; maybe, God willing, I can now leave it behind me.

I'm not sure when my problems began in the U.S. I've been here since age 6. I came from El Salvador with my mom and older sister. I'd been quite a fighter even before coming here, and could always beat my sister. Old pictures show her always smiling, while I have a dead-serious stare, as if looking at myself in the lens, wondering who I am...

What I remember of my childhood is that my mom punished and hit me with a ruler alot. Still, I was so rebellious she couldn't control me. I was an emotional late-bloomer compared to girls my age, and I sometimes wet the bed; perhaps another way of rebelling. Anyway, I didn't start kindergarten until age 7.

By junior high I was equally fluent in English and Spanish. I was still fighting with classmates, even boys, so as punishment, my mom sent me back to El Salvador for a year. I was behind in my studies when I returned, so they put me in Special Ed.

In the 7th or 8th grade I joined a gang and started smoking pot. That was when I had a great realization. See, I was a tomboy, always dressing like boys since very young, and I liked other girls more than boys. I knew this made me different, though I couldn't describe it. I also understood, somehow, that I had to keep it a secret...

Anyway, around then I was hearing kids saying words I didn't understand: Faggot, gay, maricón... One day I asked a friend what they meant, and then I knew for the first time that I was a lesbian. That was when I decided no longer to hide my secret.

MICHAEL: I first met Mónica when I was a teacher's aide in Virginia. The art teacher asked me to keep an eye on the "troublemakers," and Mónica was one. I remember her uncombed hair gave her a rebel appearance. She smiled a lot and behaved well with me, because I had an informal way with students. She wouldn't participate in art class, and often just slept, usually stoned. I didn't learn until years later how talented she was in art, and that she loved to draw.

Once I saw her chasing Verónica Lozano in the hallway; they were playing and laughing, and she swiped Verónica's Beanie Baby and took it to class. I brought her to Verónica's class to return it, and promised to buy her one if she got good grades. In the end, she did, and I bought her one. Since then, "Beanie Baby" has been her nickname to me.

DOÑA HILDA: I am Mónica's mamá. My two daughters and I immigrated legally, and we have since lived alone. The war in my country had ended when we arrived, but I decided to come for the opportunities the U.S. offered. As for Mónica, yes, she has caused me difficulties, but I love her just the same. Her teacher Michael has visited many times since she was expelled for skipping class and running away. We talk alot about Mónica. I have suffered so much, but she, I think, has suffered greatly too. She was sentenced to probation but broke it smoking marijuana, and was put in juvenile detention. She's since gone into a shelter-care program where they've offered her the opportunity to get into Job Corps.

¡Ay! You can't know what grief I felt when Mónica confessed to being lesbiana. I'm a Christian, and I just don't believe in that. Before, I'd always invited the pastor to give services in my home, and I was active with my hermanos in the church, but all that has changed. I don't know what to believe anymore; how can I practice a faith that would claim my daughter is sinful? I love Mónica, and she'll always be my daughter, no matter what...

MÓNICA: My name is Mónica Flores. I am a lesbian. I don't care what people think; this is how I am. Even though I was kicked out of Job Corps for fighting, at least I met my girlfriend Dalia there. We have our own apartment now. Although I never got my GED in Job Corps, I still earned my diploma by exam. I finally feel more at peace and in control of my life. I might join the Army for their training, because I want to be an auto mechanic. I can't predict my future, but I'm proud of myself despite all that's happened.

One of the main themes of my life, I think, is that I still feel more Hispanic than American. Still, the U.S., mine or not, offers opportunity, and I think, in spite of it all, that I'll stay.

My name is Mónica; welcome to my world.

horseradish

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