![]() Working for Better (Posted April 30, 2022)A Story by Audie G. CouchNothing 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? © 2022 Audie G. CouchReviews
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2 Reviews Added on May 1, 2022 Last Updated on May 11, 2022 Author![]() Audie G. CouchAlbuquerque, NMAbout30 years old. I love to read, and write about all kinds of different topics. I'm a graduate from Central New Mexico Community College, and enjoy working with others. more..Writing
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