Everyone Needs to Eat -- Entry for January 29, 2008
My siblings and I grew up in relative poverty. We often moved with our parents to various migrant camps and housing so they could pick whatever vegetable or fruit was ready for harvesting. We lived in places that had outhouses and no indoor plumbing, and others that were miles from the nearest city. It would be easy for me to romanticize this period of my life, but it was not romantic. It was hard. We finally stopped moving when I was in 3rd grade. Despite our limited means, we rarely knew hunger. My mother is a very resourceful woman. While we were migrants, we had the fields of vegetables to eat,and when we lived in rural places like the northern border of Washington state, my stepfather would hunt for live game. When we settled down in Santa Maria, CA, my mother changed tactics. When we did not have enough money to buy groceries, we would wake up before dawn to search for cans. I can remember those mornings and her starting up the Ford Ranchero so clearly. There is a different fe