Working for Better (Posted April 30, 2022)

Nothing in it, my hair was frizzy and wild. Dark brown curls went in every direction. In sneakers, the black shorts that came to my knees made my purple T-Shirt pop. Holding on to the rake with both hands, I used it to support myself as I leaned slightly to one side. “I think that's good G.” I said loudly, using slang to address my friend; panting and taking deep breaths as Meho nodded. “Yeah,” he said, agreeing with me as he made his way up the wooden steps to collect our payment. His gray, sleeveless shirt was stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans. At 12 he was just a couple years older than me. Tall and skinny, he always kept his tight curls shaved close to the skin. Rusty hinges caused the dirty white screen door to make a loud, creaky noise as the elderly man peaked his head out to give us the green paper we had earned from gathering the leaves and pulling weeds out of dry dirt. We thanked him, and he thanked us in return, as Meho took the money, and the second rake from my mother’s shed in his left hand. Walking past the short-chained fence, I could have kicked down; he blurted out “Let's keep going”. Thinking that the heat had probably fried his brain, I was not thrilled to hear these words come from his lips, yet my reply suggested otherwise…“Okay” I told him with a slight grin, as we continued to make our way to the neighbor next door to repeat the process all over again.

Streams of moisture ran down our tiny brown bodies, our movements laggard as a result of being out under the razes of the high desert New Mexico sun for hours. Its unforgiving flames shined hard on the trailer park I called home in Bloomington. A small, rough, and dusty circular pit on the outskirts of Farmington surrounded by acres of land as far as the eye could see. Which contained feral cats, cows, goats, chickens, horses, pigs, wild dogs, and coyotes, you name it. As tedious and menial cleaning yards may have seemed, for us or for me at least, it was a way of working for better. Even though I didn’t understand it fully, not yet. What it meant, working for better that is. What did it mean to do so? Why?

Well at this time, merely kids, it meant being able to buy some soda, or chips that we could not afford otherwise. Nevertheless, this concept stuck with me throughout life, working hard and putting your best foot forward leads to success, which leads to good even great things (i.e., like good pay), which in turn leads to something better. Better shoes, better clothes, a better path, a better life...better this and better that. Just better than what one does have. The dope dealers, addicts, women pulling tricks, and the like were the unsavory characters in the hood that helped fuel my desire to get out, to rise above that which was seemingly etched in stone for me. It was my mission, to escape the intangible prison called poverty. A desire that burns as bright and as hot as a thousand stars till this day.

My mother, among other mighty women who influenced me during my upbringing, showed me who I wanted to be. Independent, strong, and unwavering. She, my mom, was a craft in a barren sea, the pulse that brought my lifeline into existence, light in the dark. She has always been a person I looked up to and admired.

All on her own my mother supported me and three other siblings; made sure we didn’t go without despite the odds against her. Despite society trying to crush her, crush us, she prevailed anyway and in doing so became more than my mother. She was my guardian; henceforth, a titan among mortals. Mom always encouraged me to pursue my education. She’d say, “Knowledge is power”, looking down into my innocent brown eyes with her intense blue ones that remind me of her mother's. Her beautiful face, and brown hair caused me to stare at her as if it were the last time. Her finely painted nails stood out against her light skin as she moved her hands about while gracing me with the wisdom of how important school is. Really informing me of how an education is yet another means of working for better. A way to get ahead, or at least a way to increase one’s chances of being successful and having better in this world, in life.

From elementary I went on to middle school, from there to high school and so on. An A/B student, I always strived for excellence. Dropping the ball was not an option, nor was giving up. To do this would have meant slipping backwards, taking a turn for the worst in the long run. Doing this, would have meant taking one step towards the same life of those unsavory characters who were so firmly imprinted onto my memory. Those who I didn’t want to be the slightest bit similar to. Like the estranged man who should have been my father but was not. A felon and repeat offender, I wish to be nothing like him, and choose to work for better. Which is why I continued with my education.

 2012 came along and I was finally able to attend Central New Mexico Community College. Then 2013 came, then 14, 15 came and went. When I decided what my major was going to be, I stuck with it. I made several accomplishments, gaining a certificate and another degree on top of my Associates Degree in Paralegal Studies, and became eligible to enroll in the General Honors Program. Which I did in fact take a course and naturally aced it. As the years went by my prescription, my meaning of what it meant to work for better, to have better altered and grew just as the human anatomy does physically. Now I wanted my own things, my own career, home, car, and so on.

Then Sayreene began to see figures and people others couldn’t. Hear speech when no one was there. It was little by little at first, then the mental illnesses took her all together. Her mind. Only fourteen months apart we were very close and still are. When she lost a part of herself, a part of me went with her. Past memories force me to recall the conversations we had while sitting in the tree out in the backyard at Grandma’s. Our feet swinging back and forth. “We’re going to live together when we’re grown, right Audie?” She’d say, turning to me with eye’s full of hope, wonder, and compassion. “Yes”, I’d say, putting an arm around her and pressing my head gently into hers. “We’re going to live together, and grow into old ladies together”, I’d go on. A true sisterhood between us, I meant every word. I promised.

This motivated my ambitions for success even more, for a bounty does not simply enrich one's own life, but the lives of those most dear to them as well. Meaning if I work for better, and accomplish set goals, then my loved ones will also have better. I could do more for Sayreene, care for her. As mentioned, this changed my view of what it meant to work for better. Expanding past my own selfish indulgences, and that which affects me personally, to those closest to me. Those that are directly linked to me, and what I do. My family.

As a paralegal or something equally successful, I could ensure that my sister has the life she deserves, that Mom didn’t worry about how to pay the bills because I’d have her back. Truly understanding what the concept meant to me at this period, I could not turn in the cloth. For the only real failure is when a person gives up on themselves. I don’t want to be one of those individuals who does that, who gives in when the going gets tough. It’s not my style. In fact, quitting on my own future is like a captain causing their own ship to sink. It doesn’t make sense to destroy the path you’ve built as the foundation for your feet to walk on.

2022 is here and I am starting another chapter in the book titled “my life”, and am still defining, or re-defining, to be more accurate; my meaning of what it is to work for better. Even at this very moment, when I thought I could rap a finger around it, I find out I am still wondering, pondering that question. What does it mean to work for better?

 Transforming for what feels like the hundredth time, I have a pair of super goggles on working for my goals now, doing everything possible now, not tomorrow, not later, now. Instead of the term “working” having a future tense it is in present tense for me. As Alan Watts, an English writer and Philosopher in the 20th century, said “[One can’t wait] because all there is, is now, right now.”

I don’t want to wait for opportunities to pass me by, like a wisp of air through the window. I want to make all that can happen, happen now. For the better, of course. And this is the way my perception of working for better has changed. I see the doing of it, actually making this concept of “working for better” not a notion but a reality when I do whatever I can now, today. It is unknown to me whether I will fully answer this question especially when I consider all the variables in life that could alter its meaning for me. When you get right down to it, working for better has a different meaning for everyone on this planet. What does it mean? What does it mean to work, to be working? What’s the meaning of better? To have better exactly. More importantly, what does it mean to me?

Reviews

[JMaster1]

I couldn't stop reading your story
You are the master of the words, you are talented
So strong, knowing what you want and have the morals your mother and granmother have
Love it , you are a true story teller

[Audie G. Couch]

Thanks JMaster1. I appreciate your review, and kind words.
A.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good story of life shared dear Audie. I believe, we get what we deserve. If we work hard, be kind and seek happy life. We can find. Thank you for sharing the amazing story.
Coyote

[Audie G. Couch]

I agree Coyote, as usual your comment is very much appreciated. Thank you
A.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome my dear friend.