As a child, I loved the holidays because of my family’s tamaladas. 

It was an opportunity to learn more about my family. Where I come from. 

One year, I remember sitting with my grandmother at the kitchen table, handing her an hoja de elote after another so she could smear them with masa. 

I asked her how she met my grandpa. 

It turned out she met him in the fields where she worked in her youth. 

She was a picker and he was a truck driver. The big truck he drove impressed her, and he won her heart. 

And she picked well. It was this same man who taught me about devotion to family. 

It’s why I am so passionate about the families in our Head Start programs—most of the children come from farmworker parents, just like my grandparents. 

Many of them are new to this country and unfamiliar with the system. As I work with each family, I feel like they become part of my own. 

It’s not hard to feel that way, because all our work starts from the root. 

We don’t just educate their children and prepare them for elementary school—we also connect families to resources, host educational workshops based on what parents want to learn, and empower parents to be more involved in their child’s education. 

Our goal is to help families learn how to become more self-reliant and provide a safe, nurturing, and healthy home life for their children. Beyond survival mode, we help them get to the next level—including college and attaining citizenship. 

One of my current colleagues started as a parent—I was her family advocate when her oldest son was in our program. When she was working on her bachelor’s degree years later, she interviewed me for an assignment. She told me about the impact I’d made on her and how my example inspired her to pursue social work. 

Hearing that was life-affirming. 

Moments like these make my job wonderful: I get to see families grow and flourish—without forgetting who we are or where we come from. 

Always grounded in our roots. 

Our annual family reunion is coming up this summer. But my grandparents are no longer with us.  

As I wait to share enchiladas and tamales with my nieces and nephews in my cousin’s backyard, music and laughter in the background, I cherish my turn to continue telling my family’s stories to the next generation. 

Sincerely,