Nuestra Herencia
Nuestra Herencia
10/13/2024 | 1h 27m 47sVideo has Closed Captions
Exploring the lives of gardeners of El Paseo Community Garden in Chicago's Pilsen neighborhood.
Nuestra Herencia brings together a series of short documentary films exploring immigration, personal histories, gardens, and legacy through the lives of 10 senior gardeners of El Paseo Community Garden in Chicago's Pilsen neighborhood.
Nuestra Herencia
Nuestra Herencia
10/13/2024 | 1h 27m 47sVideo has Closed Captions
Nuestra Herencia brings together a series of short documentary films exploring immigration, personal histories, gardens, and legacy through the lives of 10 senior gardeners of El Paseo Community Garden in Chicago's Pilsen neighborhood.
How to Watch Nuestra Herencia
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Learn Moreabout PBS online sponsorshipHi, Gloria!
How are you, Cirila?
I'm here.
Look!
I'm the protagonist of the garden!
Cirila, look, well, I also came to the garden.
Alright, get it Gloria!
I came to our community garden that gives us lots of joy.
We feel very much at ease.
We come in the afternoons or mornings to water the plants.
Because, I very much like the plants.
In this community garden, we've had a lot of joy, a lot of beauty, thanks to the leaders.
And we all contribute, everyone does a little bit.
And well, we love it.
We love to plant, cultivate the chiles and tomatoes.
And from there, we eat!
Here we get together with friends.
We have many friends here.
Many friends.
We gather, we sit to talk.
When they have a potluck - we come, we're happy all the time here.
There is my friend Gloria, I share everything with her.
We are always together.
Yes, that's for sure.
She and I met in Juarez School, in English class.
We both attended English class, and there we met.
She lived in this building, and I in the next one.
It belongs to the same company.
I have been living in Casa Maravilla for 5 years.
Since I have started living there, I have been coming to this garden.
This is my home, and where I actually live - I just go there to sleep.
Last year, we raised 25 butterflies!
We collected them... we started just for fun.
Very beautiful!
Yes!
Very beautiful!
When they're like this, she would put them like so, And the little animals would do this.
And it was very beautiful.
We'd begin to applaud, or they'd put on music.
And the little animals were like this!
Very much alive!
They loved the music, they loved that she would talk to them.
All of that was very lovely.
So a memory from Guanajuato that I have was being on the land with my grandparents and there was a big, big plot of land that was full of sunflowers with petals that would fly off with the wind as if they were butterflies.
They almost remind me of the flowers we have here.
They remind me of each other.
At the house they had flowers and had an orchard of fruits - of fruit trees.
They taught me how to water them, how to cultivate them, They taught me many things.
The garden gives us food, the botanical garden.
We eat the berries from here.
Here, we climb this tree.
In this little tree, we lowered the branches and ate.
In this one, we pull the branches and cut the delicious berries.
Now the season is over.
But it's over, there's no more.
It's ended.
We miss it.
I tell it, "Thank you dear plant.
You gave us nourishment."
My hands are very full of Mexican land.
Of Guerrero.
My nails, oh boy.
Our hair was a mess, we were really sunburned and all.
In Zapotitlan Tablas, Guerrero.
I am from there.
Ay, Guerrero is very lovely.
It's because it's my land.
It is very pretty.
I am from Mexico City.
But for two years when I was a young girl I lived close to natural areas when I went to Guanajuato with my grandmother.
I spent two years there and I learned a lot.
Yes, this garden does connect me with my roots in Mexico because we plant a lot, we plant, we remove plants that affect other crops.
I really enjoy this because it connects me with nature and reminds me of Guanajuato when I used to hang out with my grandparents.
It reminds me a lot of those times, being in this garden.
Look at how beautiful this place is!
It's pure leaves█ with flowers!
Look at the flowers, how lovely!
All the colors, they're so beautiful!
Yes!
All of this is a cucumber plant.
Over there we collected cucumbers, and we shared them all.
My parents showed me how to do everything.
They worked in the fields, everything in the fields.
They were dedicated to sowing.
Yes, there was nothing more to do than to go to the fields.
We would get ready for classes in school, and from there we all had to do our chores.
We would go to the fields to pick up the animals, to take care of the animals.
Or to clean the fields.
Clean up the cornfields.
Everything, everything.
The beans, those had to be cleaned too.
All that it entails.
I worked a lot on the land.
There's the squash plant!
They're very lovely.
Here there's squash, and it's all full of flowers, too.
They're yellow.
Little squash, full of flowers.
We cultivated all of this.
Look at the squash flowers, also pretty.
My grandpa would go up the hill, dig holes, plant beans, and there it would grow.
Then he would harvest it when it was ready.
The beans from our hill would always be delicious.
It was so beautiful.
I loved all of that.
Oh, I love to cook.
That is my pastime.
I like to cook everything.
I used to make tamales to sell.
I lived off of that, as a street vendor with tamales.
I would go to bars and I would sell very well.
People would say, "Oh my God, señora, "how do you do it to make such delicious tamales?"
Well, with a lot of love, a lot of strength, a lot of love and affection!
Also, one needs to work for a living, I said.
This is to pay my bills, to pay my rent, and other things.
Because my kids were still little when I did that.
And now that my kids are grown adults, I am retired, I don't feel the worry of providing for them.
But I give them lots of affection, lots of love.
I tell them.
These boards, they put them here to dance, to lay down there for massage, yoga or meditation.
Dance!
Dance!
Look, that yellow spot?
The big one?
We painted it.
We painted it because they also wanted members of the community to add our grain of sand, and they let us paint certain places over there.
The artists who painted that, they let us paint part of it there.
So there's an essence of us, as well.
Ay, we're so happy!
If only we spent everyday like this, on video, in the movies.
Look how beautiful the young people made it, look!
Look!
A group of young people made this art out of pure adobe and all.
This is adobe made of pure earth.
Here we sit.
Also, we lent a hand here, too.
We did a bit of art with them.
So the mosquitoes wouldn't bite them, we put a fire there.
The smoke would come and get rid of the mosquitoes.
They brought the earth from over there, and they mixed it.
They put grass so the earth would hold and not fall apart.
They mixed very beautifully with their hands to feel the grass.
Because you shouldn't mix with gloves, but with your hands to be able to feel it.
Oh my God.
My mother was a very lovely person.
She did not understand Spanish.
She spoke in her own language.
She spoke Tlapaneco.
And she did not communicate with us in Spanish.
She would speak in her language, would ask questions.
Even spoke to her grandchildren and all.
Yes, that is the bad thing, that I had no one to speak with here.
And so I forgot the language from there.
Look, Cirila, here's all the medicinal plants, look!
The mint, the chamomile.
The purslane.
You eat these, prepare them in a guisado.
They taste good!
I know, in green sauce with pork.
They're delicious.
Well, here we come out, we walk, and we sit to relax.
Here it helps us deal with stress, any depression, and here I speak a lot with the people.
It has helped me because I go for walks here.
Also I like to interact with the people who work on maintaining the garden, They're doing beautiful things for the garden, to ensure everyone feels comfortable here.
It creates a community in the garden.
For me it has helped me a lot because this is a beautiful place to breathe.
That is what kept me alive - the garden.
Yes, it's very beautiful here.
Here one breathes, or has breathed here.
Cultivating from the roots of those before us.
Of our ancestors and everyone else with this garden.
And the knowledge of growing your own food.
Of planting seeds and having them grow big.
Well, I enjoy her very much because we always meet up here in the garden.
And we're there for each other through the good and the bad.
I invite her to my things, and she invites me to hers.
That is to say, it's a rapport of giving and receiving, receiving and giving.
It's a very beautiful friendship, very clean.
There has always been a friendship, and I like her companionship.
I mean, here we don't feel alone.
If she needs me, I'm here.
If I need her, she's here for me.
We want for you to remember Cirila's and my friendship, here, hugging in the community garden with all of you.
With all of you!
With the whole garden family.
My name is Diana Solís.
Born in Monterrey, Nuevo León, Mexico.
I arrived in Chicago with my family it happened to be the same year I was born.
So I was practically born here.
I grew up here in Pilsen.
I'm a full time artist, I'm also a teaching artist.
My practice is visual arts and photography.
My background is in documentary and photojournalism.
I did a lot of work in the gay and lesbian community here in Chicago, and then I travelled and worked freelance as a photojournalist in Latin America.
And I continue to explore the issue of women and women's lives.
The interest in centering about women and girls' lives is really important, and it continues to be today.
The work also centers on LGBTQ community, people of color, and trans community.
I feel that photography is a great tool for being able to change the way people see.
I think I was probably not even 11 years old, but I knew I wanted to do that.
I wanted to travel the world and take pictures and make stories, and I knew I needed a camera, so my mom got me one.
An Instamatic, and I had a Brownie.
which I ruined all kinds of film with, 'cause I didn't know how to really use it.
I was really little, but I just photographed what I knew, which was my friends, my family, the kids on the block.
My dad actually wanted to help us, and my dad built us a little makeshift darkroom downstairs for my brother and I so we could develop.
Because we brought home the tanks and everything, and we didn't have the changing bag, and my dad kept saying, "Well you're not gonna get nowhere with that, let me fix something up."
Did some color, remember doing a first color shot with my mom in the kitchen, 'cause she had just painted the kitchen and I thought it looked so cool.
Photographed my brother in the yard, my siblings, I have a picture of myself with a Canon FTb, one of my first real cameras, SLR, photographing a self portrait in the mirror with my youngest brother and sister.
My family and I moved to Pilsen proper about 1964 - 63 actually.
We had been here before because my cousins were living here, we came here following them to the United States.
And we ended in Chicago because my uncle and aunt were saying to my mom and dad, "Hey, you gotta come stay here."
"Everybody speaks Spanish."
"There's a lot of Mexicanos, you know, and they have tortillas and everything."
I was the only one in the family to have a proper bedroom.
And everybody was so mad, "Why does she get to have a bedroom?"
Right, 'cause I was the oldest, right.
But my dad, "What is this?"
I would have all these psychedelic posters, you know, and I would say, "That's art, dad."
"I don't know about this stuff," "I think it's all like hippie stuff.
Be careful!"
They were just so worried that I was gonna like sex, drugs and rock and roll.
Little did they know, that's exactly what happened.
My sister always said, "You were the original hipster."
We were the original hipsters, looking badass and cool in aviator glasses.
We used to go to Dvorak park and hang out there with the guys, and sit on top of the bench.
The only problem with doing that was that everybody's comadre would see you, "We saw her with a bunch of guys!"
They would see you and they would say, "They gotta be up to no good," "because all those boys and girls are no good."
My mom would say, "Come here, get over here right now!"
"What were you doing?"
"Nothing!"
"I heard from comadre so-and-so..." That's the kind of neighborhood we grew up in, everybody knew everybody's business.
Some of my biggest inspirations for doing the work that I did, and do now, is that I had met a lot of artists in the community as I was growing up through Casa Aztlan and a couple other organizations.
and they were primarily painters, muralists.
There was a really big mural movement back then.
We were approached by Paula, and the reason she said that she approached us is because when they decided to put the word out that they wanted to do a mural people had actually asked for Eric and I. Eric and I really liked the idea of asking the community what is it that they want to see.
The mural is called "El Abrazo" phase 1, 2 and 3.
"El Abrazo" means the embrace in Spanish.
The idea behind the mural is to have these two, huge hands embracing kind of like the community, but within the arms, and on the arms is more like tattoos, are stories that are about Chicago as a working class town, it still is actually.
We also took the sleeves to portray a little bit of the history, almost like ghost images, with the gold paint, which is of the murals that have disappeared, that had been very popular here, and now that they're gone because of time, impermanence, and also gentrification.
I was somebody who supported the garden from the get-go.
Well there was a factory there and they tore it down.
When I moved here and came back to live in the neighborhood in 2006 it was still a big empty lot, two or three empty lots, and we used to walk our dogs there.
So Ron and Sallie started trying to get people together to do a garden.
And you could see how it was becoming transformed, and it was really cool 'cause we live right here.
A lot of us thought, "Oh wow, this is great, we're gonna have a garden."
I realize that the changes are tremendous from when I was a kid to today, and coming back to the community, and how more and more things are disappearing that were such an integral part of the community.
I grew up in a Chicago that was really highly segregated between communities and neighborhoods.
There were places we could go and places we couldn't go just because of who we were or the color of our skin.
The neighborhood was really, really run down.
There was a tremendous amount of violence.
Very working class, very poor.
Lots of immigrants, an influx of new people coming in every day.
When we arrived here in the early 60's, there was still a lot of Czech families living here.
By that time when the Mexicans came in, they did what they call "white flight".
And so they sort of perpetuated this pattern of one immigrant replacing another, as things got "better" for some immigrants, right?
There was also really great places to eat, to hang out.
It wasn't all doom and gloom, but it wasn't the prettiest place in the world.
Because it was just really neglected by the city.
We started protesting for better services.
Social services.
There was just so much to fight for.
And as a result of that, the 70's, in particular the end of the 70's, were just like this incredible time of grassroots organizing, of people coming together in solidarity, and at that time all the organizations that participated were either run by women or led by women, in some way, or staffed by women.
You know, all the grassroots organizations.
There was a time in '79 in Pilsen that there was a very strong, grassroots organizational leadership because of years of fighting against displacement, gentrification, environmental issues, issues of domestic violence, social services, health services for women.
In 1978 I joined Mujeres Latinas en Acción, which was the first Latina women's organization in the community, and it mostly dealt with domestic violence.
I became a youth counselor and I instituted art programs for women and girls in the community.
I came out as gay in 1979, I went to the National Gay and Lesbian March, the first one, in Washington, D.C.
When I worked for Mujeres we had a festival called "Festival de Mujeres 1979", it happened in '79 We did a one day festival where it was for women and by women.
We had women carpenters who were just starting to break into the trades, and so they all built the booths, and we did all this work, and we had volunteers.
It was an amazing festival.
We did it all because nobody told us we couldn't do it.
It was meant to open up the possibilities for women to see, and have empowerment, and see what they can do.
What have women done?
What are women doing today?
And what we can do.
That was the theme.
Also it was very interesting, you know, to have this happen here in Pilsen in '79.
It was a one day event - all forgotten.
One of the things that interests me the most about doing the kind of work that I do is to be able to bring stories to light that would disappear.
The history has been one of workers' rights and struggles in this community.
The gains have been a really strong sense of community, and it still holds today, even under the pressures of gentrification that are really, really blatant and strong today.
The other gains are that people have a voice, and they still do.
We have lots of people who are fighting for that and who want to make sure that their voice is there.
Here you learn little by little.
Here we have learned how to properly plant, how to water the plants, and what kind of care different plants need.
Once we got here - the second year - at the garden, introduced to it through Don Juan.
So one time we passed by and saw him working his garden bed, because we like to walk in the evenings.
We started talking to him and he gave us some tomatoes for the green salsa.
And so he recommended that we try to get a garden bed.
And we started then.
But I didn't even know how to take care of it.
I didn't even mix the dirt or anything!
We were just doing it by feel.
We didn't know anything.
Then we saw him mixing the soil and we said, "Well, that's how you do it."
And she started growing tomatoes - beans - beans, chiles- My favorite plants are beans, to eat them cut and parboiled, or with eggs.
Right now, I have lots of cilantro too.
I overdid it and planted a lot of cilantro.
So now I don't know what I'm going to do with so much cilantro.
And if someone else needs it, we can give it to them.
Sharing.
It's the nice thing, we can share things here too.
We love it.
It is beautiful.
Back in the day when we weren't part of the garden, we would walk all the way to McDonald's on Sundays or Saturdays and we would grab a chair and drink our coffee, and have breakfast here.
We bring our coffee, we come and drink it here.
And we leave around 9:00 or 10:00 pm, but we're here from 5:00 p.m., and our kids are back home watching TV or something.
Well, we're at the garden right now.
Sometimes I help my parents, and sometimes I don't.
Sometimes I accompany my parents to water the vegetables.
Sometimes we gather around at the campfire back here, just to hang out really, with family and friends, birthday parties over here, a couple times.
It was fun and it had cake.
I got pushed, my head to the cake.
And I was not happy.
They met at their job.
That's really all I know, from what they told me.
He was- I believe he was a supervisor, or a manager, and she was just an employee.
And they just fell in love, I guess.
Somehow.
She didn't like me much when we met.
She didn't like me at all.
We've been together 21 years now.
Because I was her boss at work.
I was her supervisor, it was a lamp packaging company, so they didn't like people that would cross their legs and lean on a wall, and she was one of the people that used to do that.
I was tired though!
So my boss would call me on the radio, and would tell me that this lady was leaning and with her legs crossed, please tell her that that's not how you work.
If she's tired, tell her she can go home.
And so I would go and tell her that.
It's not because I wanted to do that, it's just because I was also receiving orders.
And for her, I was the bad guy.
And so we'd play games.
I would walk past her and I would see her eating candy, and I would ask her if she was sharing.
Here you learn little by little.
We didn't flirt or fall in love.
I didn't fall in love with her, or she with me.
It was a game like actual kids.
But out of that game, our son was born and he's now 21 years old.
I'm 21 years old.
I'm the second youngest of six siblings.
I'm 12 years old.
This is my favorite because this is me graduating.
I really look good in this suit.
I'm born and raised in Chicago.
I'm half Colombian, half Honduran.
I have not gone to Honduras, but I would like to.
I would like to visit my sister and my brother, and my aunts and uncles.
I'm from Honduras, from the city of Comayagua, which is close to Tegucigalpa, Honduras.
And I came here in 1999.
And I got told, when I grew up in the neighborhood, playing with all of the neighbors, the kids and all of that - we had a good childhood.
We never suffered from hunger or anything.
When my dad was around we never had any problems with scarcity.
We lived well.
I have gone to Colombia.
I love the food there, the environment is nice.
The family- they care a lot.
They're just wonderful people and a wonderful country.
I'm from Bogota, the Capital of Colombia.
I came to Chicago in 1992.
Since then I've lived here in Pilsen.
I learned a lot about my dad that I had never known.
I also learned about my grandma.
He hasn't really talked about her that much.
The neighborhood that he lived in, which back then was really, really dangerous.
I learned about the culture and the music.
I grew up with my brothers working and bringing things back home and studying.
But I stopped going to school and had to work to take care of my mom.
We didn't want her to work and clean or anything because she suffered from asthma.
It was kind of hard for him.
Especially leaving behind your family.
Well, I guess it was tough on my mom too.
Because she also left my siblings behind.
Which must have been hard for her.
When I turned 15 years old, my dad died.
It started with a pain in the heart, while he was arguing with another person.
And he died.
So it was just me, my mother, and my siblings.
And later I came here.
I decided to come to give my kids more opportunities.
To help my mother, because she became a widow.
And that's why I decided to come.
I left four of my kids back home, then had the two here.
The other ones stayed with my mom.
Not really now, but when I was younger we would talk about it.
How they had to cross a river.
How hot it was and the dangers of just getting caught, and drowning if you didn't know how to swim.
The journey here?
It was straight out of a movie.
I grew up in a very poor neighborhood in Colombia, called "El barrio de las Cruces".
It's the most dangerous neighborhood in the city.
But we were brought up by my mother, and she was able to keep us away from all of that.
As a single mother, she worked hard to have us succeed, and provided us with school.
We grew up there most of our lives.
It was hard.
Leaving my country.
Because I left my mom alone.
I got a Mexican Visa.
From Mexico, I went to Mexicali, and from Mexicali to Tijuana.
And they told us by night time that it was time to cross.
They gave us food.
And when we were about to cross the river, we got ambushed by a migration helicopter.
And I kept telling the Coyotes "Immigration!
Immigration!"
And the Coyotes kept telling us not to worry, that they were not going to do anything.
But they did.
I felt like someone grabbed me from here in the middle of the water.
And I tried to run away, but it felt like I was stuck.
We had three attempts.
And by the time we went on our last trip we left at dawn and we crossed the woods.
It was really cold and we were thirsty.
But we managed to get through.
And on the other side there was a hotel in San Diego.
There were like 60 people in one room.
I remember going there in a car that didn't have seats.
The seats were other people that would lower down and get in the car like cigarettes.
But there was a seat in the front.
And we sat there on top of the other people.
We arrived at a place in the woods and from another car someone would signal to come.
And so we had to cover the car with leaves and ourselves too.
Something like a movie.
It was something out of a movie.
But we really did suffer to be able to get here.
And it took a month or so to get here to Chicago.
I had to cross Guatemala, and Mexico.
But we had lots of thieves that robbed us there when we were crossing or getting close to the river.
So we ran and hid down in the woods.
The robbers would take everything we had.
Whatever we had with us, earrings, and everything we brought.
Lots of people had their pants taken down to check if they had anything hidden.
And then when they saw the police coming then they just took off and that was when we managed to get away.
But yeah, it was really ugly coming from Honduras all the way here.
They took us to a safe house.
There were about 60 people or something like that, I think in the safe house.
And from there we took a small helicopter to Matamoros.
I got really nervous and they didn't let me go through.
But we came back on another day to try again.
Then I was able to cross to Matamoros.
A lot of people came in the trunk of the car laying down.
And some others would be in the seat almost on top of them.
And some others would be in the seat almost on top of them.
We did all of that to be able to get to Houston.
So I arrived in Houston and then came to Chicago.
I got to Chicago in about a week.
And even then we didn't have enough money to get all the way here.
But yeah.
Struggling a lot just to have a better life for your kids and your future.
They care about us a lot.
This one is me with my mom.
Me and my mom had many adventures.
I have so many memories of my mom, taking a bus ride to go visit my dad at work.
Or a bus ride to the food pantry.
They're just nice memories that I just cherish.
I remember this one time where I was in third grade and I was struggling with either a math problem or a reading question.
I didn't really understand what they were asking.
So I asked my dad.
Since he didn't know English, it was kind of hard for him.
So what he did was he grabbed a dictionary and tried to translate word for word just the questions to me, so he could help me understand the problem.
Which I think is pretty crazy and really nice of him.
It's hard.
Especially when you lose a loved one like your mother.
I lost my mother when my son was only six or seven months old.
They didn't tell me the news, they just told me to send a check.
It's hard.
I got home and I didn't know what to do, and when my wife got home I told her what happened.
And we wrote a letter so that they will give it to my mom.
They read it to her at the funeral.
And when my mom died I also couldn't travel.
She died about 15 years ago.
And then my youngest daughter, she stayed with my sister later.
And the two of them are still with my sister.
My parents they've been through a lot.
I know they didn't have much.
They didn't have a lot of things in their countries.
And I know it means a lot to them that they can give both of us a lot of things that they never had.
There's an Alzate song that talks about a father and says, "He wakes up at four in the morning, to give," "to give our children what we didn't have."
And that's the reality of life.
I wake up at four in the morning to go to work, so that I can give my children what I didn't have when I was a kid.
That song is beautiful.
Not to give them a luxurious life, we live in a small apartment, but they don't lack anything.
They don't suffer from cold, heat, or hunger.
They have everything here.
I think they're happy and safe now, and proud.
Yeah, same, I think they're proud of us that we're going to school.
How they raised us.
They're just really nice, sweet people.
Caring.
I love them.
I have been involved with this garden for about seven years, in the same place.
I was invited by some friends that live here in Casa Maravilla, which is where I also live.
They told me that there was a place where we could spend nice leisure time.
And that was how I started to come here.
They convinced me to rent out a garden box.
A little box, as they say.
Since then we have planted many things.
For me the garden means something very beautiful, because you bring and learn skills from people that are here doing the same thing.
There are many people that come from different countries, especially Central America.
They come from El Salvador, Guatemala, Colombia, and from Mexico, and even some coming from Argentina.
They all bring their different customs, different cultures, and we enjoy spending time conversing, taking care of each other, and exchanging ideas on cooking and recipes.
The women share how they cook certain things from their country and well yeah that is our exchange, ideas of cooking.
I come from Mexico.
I come from Mexico.
From the city of Puebla.
The town where I am from, San Andres Calpan, is thirty minutes from the city of Puebla.
The town where I am from, San Andres Calpan, is thirty minutes from the city of Puebla.
That is where I come from.
When I was young, my mother used to have a piece of land around the house.
She used to tell us to go pick up hot peppers.
You know, all kinds of vegetables like beans, corn, avocados, tomatoes.
She used to tell us, "Hey, you better get up early," "because you're gonna have to water my flowers" "before you go to school."
And that's what we used to do, we used to carry water with those buckets, one in each hand.
So we used to carry that, water the flowers, and after that we gotta get ready and then we have to go to school.
My arrival here in the United States, I was very young, I was about 16 years old.
The reason that I had to come, was that, as we know in Mexico, there is not a lot of future for many people.
Especially those that do not have schooling.
And the need was so great that I was forced to come.
My parents were poor, my family - my siblings were all small.
There really was no way to survive.
Even though we had a house, my mom had a little house, and my dad was with us for a time, but coincidentally, my dad abandoned us.
That was one of the reasons I had to come over here.
So that I could help my mom and my siblings.
No one but I came.
My family stayed in Mexico.
When I arrived here, I didn't know anybody.
Then I started meeting people and getting involved in activities.
When I arrived to St. Pius, the parish I attend often, I'm serving, offering services.
A lot of people know me and I try to be as kind as possible, because that is required from my religion, you could say.
I also participate in the Via Crucis every year.
On Good Friday we walk down 18th Street to Harrison Park and I dress up as one of the soldiers.
Nowadays I do less, but I do enjoy this.
These are customs that have been around since I was a young kid.
When I married my wife, she had 3 children.
When I married her, I adopted them, gave them my last name, and raised them.
Now they are also grandparents, they made me great-grandfather.
I'm not their original dad.
They know that.
They see me as their real dad.
Instead of saying to me, "you aren't my real dad," they call me Dad, and for me... it gets to me.
Because, really, a lot of families, or a lot of dads, that live the same scenario that I live, they don't have the privilege of being called "Dad".
It's better to be called "Dad".
Before meeting them, I was also in bad shape.
I was in a lot of problems with the police, with people from the neighborhood.
When I met their mother, things started changing also.
Sometimes they would see me in bad shape and they would say to me, "Why do you behave that way?"
"I wish you would change your way."
"I don't like how you're behaving."
And all of that was the only thing that started changing me - my way of being.
Every year starting in November I create an altar for the Day of the Dead.
It is a tradition that we bring from Mexico, around that time we believe that our ancestors come to visit us.
I remember how they used to do it at my house, they do the same thing except they use real food.
Remember what the people used to like to eat, if they like mole, or if they like soup, if they like frijoles, so that's what they put in so they can come and enjoy.
We don't know for sure if they're coming to visit us or not, but that's something that we celebrate, because that's the Day of the Dead.
But it's really nice, I like it, and in Mexico everything is different than here.
You see a lot of places here they have their altar and everything, but it's not the same as in Mexico.
When I make the altar over here I put my mother and my son Bolas.
My son?
Ok - Really that day he... like every other morning.
Wake up in the morning, take a shower.
And I think that day he was running a little late for work.
So he took a shower, and then he started complaining that he had a headache.
The pain started getting really worse.
His girlfriend took him to the hospital.
At the moment that he entered the hospital - that's when he dropped dead.
So that was from one minute to another that he passed away.
And...
He was a good kid.
He was a good kid.
When I was in the hospital too he went over there, he visited me.
He stayed most of the night with me.
Every time he sees me everywhere, he used to say, "Dad".
Or he called me most of the time, "Big J".
"Big J.
Big J."
And that's how I remember him.
It was faith helped me continue forward.
If I wouldn't have had faith, I wouldn't be here right now.
Because I understand that while we are living our lives we all have the right to make mistakes, and we all have the right to be forgiven.
Be it to forgive, and be forgiven.
You don't see it or touch it, but you can feel it.
And it's all very beautiful.
It has worked for me.
I'm not an important person.
I don't feel important because I'm not.
I'm just like any other person.
That's how I want to be remembered: Like anyone else.
Simply that they remember me as I am.
This is one of my favorite places in Pilsen, if not the most favorite.
It's my place where when I don't want to leave my house, I say "Now, Daisy", because sometimes I just want to lock myself in my house and not speak to anyone.
But then I say to myself, "Daisy, go to the garden".
And so I walk over here.
I call my friends who live here and say, "I'm heading over, do you want to go?
I want to see you".
And they show up and welcome me with hugs and everything.
And so we start looking at the plants, we start watering the plants, and we get very happy.
This has helped me a lot.
A lot.
This year I had even thought of not having a box, because you know, laziness, fear of not knowing how to maintain it.
So when I saw my little box growing something at the end of winter, without me adding anything, I felt encouraged and said "I love this place, it is my favorite place."
Here we celebrate my birthday, here we celebrated my grandchildren's birthday, here we sit, to eat... Last week we had a picnic here because my eldest grandson, Alexi, graduated 8th grade.
So we came here.
To me the garden is kind of multi-purpose, one reason why I would come to the garden would be to just let go of stress and just sit by myself, or come together with the community, or the most common, gardening, working on plants, planting different plants, food to take home.
The garden is kind of like for bees and for people to come and enjoy, to relax.
It's interesting how plants grow and learning more how to grow plants, and new plants.
Do you enjoy coming?
Yeah I do enjoy coming, I do enjoy coming a lot.
I come with my mom and my grandma a lot, with my family.
And we have time together.
That's why I like the garden.
It's a very fun place to spend time with your family and friends.
Hello!
Like any other person I always end up thinking Ok I'm not gonna do this anymore.
But you know, then you end up having a a really nice passion for it, and you're like, no I can't stop doing what I love.
I started making jewelry when I was 24 years old, I believe.
I was pregnant with Karla and all of a sudden I became really creative and wanted to start making jewelry.
I remember when I was a little girl, I made my barbie a jean coat.
My grandmother or my mom cut off the bottom of some jeans and I was looking at those pieces, and I was thinking, "Wow!"
"Something could be made out of this."
Because they just threw it.
They were gonna throw it in the garbage, and I said, "Oh no, give me that.
I wanna make something."
And I remember making my barbie a long duster.
I guess I then lost that creativity right away.
Because then I went and told my mom all excited, "Oh my God" "I can make clothes, I wanna make clothes."
"Maybe I can become a fashion designer."
You know, when I'm older.
And then my mom was like, "Ay no, little girl."
You know, my mom was raised differently, so she would say, "No, no, little girl, that's only for the rich little kids."
I was like, "Oh, ok." So I stopped doing it.
And then it was - I was 24 when I remembered again, I was like, "Oh."
I was born in New York City in the Bronx to Puerto Rican parents.
Cause my mom was born in Puerto Rico, too.
But then they went to New York when my mom was six.
So my mom was raised in New York, and she had all her kids in New York.
I was taken to live in Puerto Rico since I was a child.
I lived in Puerto Rico from age 8 till 17.
We lived in a few different places.
We ended up going to Vega Baja.
And then from there back to Mayagüez, which is my mother's and my grandmother's home town.
My grandmother used to make clothes - it was different.
Because she used to just grab two square pieces of fabric and make like, you know, a dress.
But it was pretty straight, and then she would make little skirts like that with the square piece, and just put like the elastic on the waist.
My grandmother use to make stuff like this stuff here.
And she used to get these, and those little red ones in there.
She would go to the forest preserve and grab these from a plant.
I used to help her.
but these she would make the little holes and she would make necklaces, just like this.
I get it just to remember her.
I don't make them, I just get them already made.
And I guess it comes from her creativity.
My mom, on her own, just for fun, she would go and buy that paper that has the little squares on it, and she would start drawing houses, like the whole entire blueprint of a house with the garden and the trees and everything.
I guess it comes - I don't know.
I don't know if that runs like that in a family, right.
But she used to draw, my mom was really good.
If she had became an artist, she would have been a really great one.
When I was a girl, my grandma had a large piece of land as big as the depth and width of this garden.
And she'd be the only one planting.
How did she do it?
Don't ask me because I don't know.
But I know that my grandmother planted everything alone.
She'd make stone paths and with vine plants she'd use them to make gazebo types, like a hut so we could play within.
Yes, my grandma was very creative in the garden.
I would love to be like her, sometimes, yeah.
What am I going to leave my grandchildren and children if I don't mobilize myself to learn what I need to learn, to farm the land?
So when I think about the garden I say, "I have to learn what my grandma would do."
She planted food and it was abundant so that we wouldn't go without eating.
And that is what I think about when I think about my box.
Even though sometimes I say oh my God I don't know how to do this, I am so far behind.
I mean, at my age my grandmother already farmed.
My mom didn't farm.
It was different because my mom was also a single mom and we were very poor, and we always had hope in those times, when I was a little girl in Puerto Rico, for the buses that would arrive to hand out food.
Food was scarce.
And when my grandmother was around there was abundance.
I am not like her, but I imagine that that is what inspired me through the years, because I couldn't be like my grandmother.
Yes, she was an incredible woman.
She tells us about plants, and she tells us about... She tells us also about gardening, Adrian.
Yeah, she tells us about- She tells us also about- hmmm...
Gardening!
Gardening is a very important thing in life because most of the food we eat let's say something - pizza, spaghetti, a salad bowl, soup, most of that comes from gardening.
But you ate tomatoes last year from my garden.
And I also ate strawberries from somebody else boxes.
Carlitos.
Yeah.
Mmhmm, they're yummy.
They're really yummy.
The only thing that I remember learning from my grandma in gardening is that - she would speak to the flowers.
I was too young, so I couldn't really learn how to plant things with her.
But I do remember that she spoke to the plants and she had fun with her plants.
So sometimes you'll see me talking to my plants and telling them that they are beautiful.
There are some plants I have in my house, I tell them, "Oh how lovely, how pretty!"
"Hello beautiful.
Good morning, good morning pretty."
I tell them.
And so when I come to my bed, I go and talk to my plants, including my neighbor's boxes when nobody's watching.
In many ways I am like her, and in many other ways I am not like her.
When we lived in New York, my grandmother and my mom always lived in the same building.
It's really hard for me to think not to live like this.
Because that's the way it was with my grandma and my mom too.
I used to sleep with my mom, we were that close.
I was really close to my grandma too.
I used to sleep with my grandma.
I was like Mason is.
You know Mason is really close to me and he wants to come downstairs and sleep with me- Hello.
These are yours, these are wet.
What's good?
What's up?
This is Aleksie.
He's my grandson, my oldest grandson.
Very close relationship, she's my gangster.
Basically.
That's what I like to call it.
Grandma's nickname is "G" standing for both "G" like gangster, and "G" for grandma, at the same time.
Double G. Double G. Her creativity, her kindness, compassion, and... Aw, you're gonna make me cry now.
He's like, "Am I famous now?"
He's something else, that little boy.
My grandma, I remember her with much affection, with much love, and I wish I had her here.
And that's how I remember her.
She was incredible, I remember.
I would like for my grandchildren to be able to remember me in that way, right?
But at least that they remember their grandma in a special way.
But I am me.
Sometimes we go walking through here.
Come to sowing time, come to plant.
We water or remove weeds and such.
Sometimes, if it's not ours, we'll lend a hand to the neighbors there.
I like it here very much, from the first time we came to live here, I liked it a lot.
We were here, or we are here in Casa Maravilla, living the years that we are living.
We're happy here, with this activity, in the garden.
Keeping ourselves busy.
What could be better?
Casa Maravilla and the garden!
Yes, what more can I say?
I am from the state of San Luis Potosí in Mexico.
I was there in my childhood until I reached 13, which is when I migrated here to the city of Chicago.
which is where I have been since that age, in the city of Chicago.
And she's here... She even married me!
Also from San Luis Potosí, Mexico.
Over there, my mom had her flowerpots.
And she simply bought her flowerpots and that was it.
But harvesting?
No, well here!
Because I didn't know, but the men and women who come here tell me, "María, do this or that."
"The tomato, don't put it here because" "it grows very tall, and it grows just barely tied over here," "so that if you plant chile, the chile grows shorter."
"So if you plant a tomato, it's going to block the chile," "and it's not going to receive sunlight, it's not going to grow."
Well, yes.
They have taught me how and where.
It's already been 45 years of being here with him.
With three children: two daughters and one son.
And now, we have four grandchildren: 3 granddaughters and one grandson.
All three of them are already married.
It's just us, he and I.
That's why we came here to Casa Maravilla.
And here, we're happy living here.
Yes, we really like the place and what we come here to plant.
We pass the time.
My dad migrated here legally, He initially brought my mom and myself legally.
And I tell you, since I was 13 years old my mom and I have been here.
He had a job in Mexico that gave him very few pesos, and we were a big family.
At that time, there were seven of us.
My youngest sister was about to be born.
And when we migrated over here, my mom and I, it was here that the youngest was born.
So then we were eight in the family.
He came here, and he stayed.
Searching for the American dream, and his entire family came over here.
I didn't come in search of the American dream.
I came for him!
I was fine there.
Had he not appeared I would have stayed there.
But he came, and I followed him.
We crossed - I crossed through Reynosa.
We crossed - I crossed through Reynosa.
Well, he came along with me, as well, but farther back, as though he only came along to protect me with the people that were going to get me across the border.
They looked for an ID of a girl that kind of resembled me, with the same features.
And that was how I was able to cross, but they already know all the moves of how to cross people.
They told me, "You have to learn your new name."
"Now you have a different name."
And all of that was on the card, right?
The identity of the ID?
"In case they ask you.
Well, you answer."
But it was a marriage between two women.
"We're going to cross during a holiday weekend."
"And supposedly, we're going to cross you because" "we're going to a wedding, a celebration."
So they sat me in the middle of two young girls.
And the married couple rode in front.
And me, between the girls.
And the girls, well they were dressed in very elegant dresses!
Well, I was too, more or less.
But their dresses were very low- cut and all of that, so that whoever came to look into the vehicle and request identification or ask "where are you going?"
the girls would catch their attention - and that's it!
The person in the middle gets lost in the mix!
I was lucky!
No, they didn't ask "what's her name?"
or for our identifications or anything.
They only asked, "where are you all going?"
"A party, a wedding."
"Go ahead."
He came along behind us, in a car from a taxi station.
He was nervous that they would get me, because they told him, "If something goes wrong, they are going to arrest us!"
And even more so with them, because they were crossing people that they shouldn't.
And well sure, I was also nervous.
But thanks to God, everything went well.
And we made it!
This is a photo, also of when we had recently arrived to Chicago.
And it's the first little car this one bought.
Our first snowfall.
We were neighbors, but we didn't notice each other because he says that when he was supposedly studying, I was still very young, with the boogers hanging from my nose.
So he came over as a teenager, and I was still very young.
And since he was here for years, we no longer saw each other.
And when he would go from Chicago to San Luis, no, he never caught my attention.
I mean, no, I didn't even know him.
What I remember is that she was my neighbor.
Her house was in front of mine.
I'm a bit older than her - seven years.
So when I came to the United States, she was still a young girl.
When I returned, she was already a young woman.
And when I returned, well, I didn't recognize her because I had left a girl behind.
And I came with a cousin, and I saw this young woman go out to the street, and I told my cousin, "Oh, look!
How beautiful!"
And he says, "Really?
You don't recognize her?"
I said, "No, who is it?"
He said, "Really you don't recognize her?
Well, it's Maria!"
"Really?"
"Your neighbor from across the street!"
"Oh, don't tell me that's María!"
"Yup!
It's her!"
And so, I went after her.
It's a story that I'll never forget.
Well, I like that he was handsome and always well-dressed.
I think he bathed daily because he was always very clean, changed, cologned.
And no, a total gentleman.
And attentive.
I liked that about him.
And we were boyfriend and girlfriend for very little time, because soon I asked my in-laws.
And we got married.
And I went to San Luis Potosí to bring her with me.
This photo is from when I had just arrived here, with him.
I was already pregnant with my oldest daughter.
Learn that in a marriage, one has to get along and provide a good example to their children.
Especially now for the grandchildren.
More than anything, it's important to have love and patience.
We all have defects, and if a defect suddenly pops up, you have to have patience.
Yes because, I mean, none of us are perfect.
and in life, you're married - but you never stop getting to know one another.
You're always learning, one from the other.
And both are seeing things that you didn't see when you first met.
And as they say... Well, the priest said, "You're going to be with the person through the good and the bad."
And well, here we are, through the good and the bad.
Because with him, with the illnesses he's had - but we've known how to get through it.
We're here.
That's how marriage continues on.
That's what they told us when we got married, "Continue forward and continue getting to know one another."
Because at our age, I tell him, "Hey!
You weren't like that."
And he tells me, "You weren't like that, either."
We continue to get to know one another.
I like to come to the garden, because I really enjoy being in the garden.
I come to look at the plants and water them.
I like to play my guitar when I have time.
I like when people stop and tell me, "You play so well, you sing so beautifully."
Because I like people to be happy like I am happy.
I've been coming to the garden since 2010.
I remember one time I was playing my guitar over by that tree, and there was a girl there, watering her plants.
And I asked her if I could help.
So I started helping her, and we started to talk.
And then she asked me if I could take care of her plants, because she was not going to be able to keep coming to water her box.
And since then, I have had my own box of plants.
This right here is my box.
I'm the only one that's still here from the people that started the garden.
It was in 2011.
I was pretty young, my hair was black.
So you wanna see the picture right there?
Her name is Sallie, she's the founder of El Paseo Garden.
And I'm there with her playing my guitar, and then she's playing maracas with zucchinis.
When we first started, this place was kind of bad.
You know, no plants, no nothing.
We started with this.
Those trees were so little.
And for me the garden has given me life.
I used to be a very depressed person, because I didn't have much to do.
And when I came and played my guitar and started to get involved, And when I came here and got involved, then all of that started to vanish - the depression and all.
And that's why I'm here, because these are things that God has given me.
When I water the plants, each plant gives me a different aroma and fragrance, and it reminds me of my town and the mountains.
And sometimes when I would water the prairie, I would feel like the flowers would move at the rhythm of the water, and they looked like they were dancing.
And that would make me happy.
All of that - all of this reminds me of my youth, when I was back living in a little town named Los Herreras in Durango.
My dad and all of us were always countrymen.
We cultivated and grew fruits, soil, vegetables and all of that.
And we plowed the soil, and we planted corn, beans, and everything that was necessary.
And we had lots of little animals.
Like pigs, donkeys, a horse and chickens, and we had all of that there.
And I really liked it.
And here I began to remember my time there.
There was a river -that passes around the town I used to live in- named Tataiguanes.
and I remember we used to go bathe in the river back when we were kids, lots of us would go during the summer or even cold days.
And that's where I learned to swim.
This bike has the American flag colors.
This is my second country.
My first one is Mexico, but I- I'm very happy that God brings me over here, because this is my second country.
Because the United States has been giving me a lot- thanks to God.
Mexico is my first country, I love Mexico, I love Mexico, but I also love the United States.
My kids were born here, you know, got married here, got a lot of friends.
And then I had my brain surgery here in Chicago, thanks to God.
My brain surgery - 1989.
Yet another song to remember.
"Land of Sun" Mexico is named, "Land of Sun".
It's a song that's called "Mixtec song".
And also, it's remembered when one comes over here, to the United States,b and leaves all their memories back there: their infancy, their childhood.
Sometimes, we leave our loved ones to come seek a better life, here in the United States.
I'm one of those people who gives thanks to their Father God for bringing me here, because here my life advanced a great deal.
I grew up in Mexico...
I was born in Mexico, I grew up in Mexico.
But here, I passed part of my youth.
Some of my best years.
And I'm spending my old age here.
OK, this is my place at Casa Maravilla.
I just want to show you the view that I have from here.
I first came North from Durango.
I first came illegally.
In 1969 I came illegally.
But now, thank God, I've become an American citizen.
Do you know the stories of the immigrants?
Do you know the illegal immigrant stories?
How do we cross the border?
From where?
You know, like, Sometimes you've gotta cross and then go swimming in the river.
And then sometimes people have to cross the desert.
It was very dangerous.
And you?
I did.
I did like four times.
I was swimming once, and then the river was real big, you know.
But you know what, El Coyote, he brought a... a plastic bag.
We undress, we take all our clothes, and then put it in one bag, and the other bag, we inflate it, and then tied it, and then put it on our... just - just to cross the river.
Why four times?
Because the immigration took me three times, they took me away, then I - you know.
I never gave up.
Never, nope, nope.
I like the dollars - dollar bills.
I like the color green, like the grass.
You know, the dollar bills never change, but the Mexican money changes a lot: the color, the size, the value.
I've been here for like 52 years already.
I'm here 52 years.
I was very young and innocent.
I was like 19 years old.
All the Mexican people, we had a dream.
My dream was that I will stay here for like three years, make some money and put some kind of business over there.
But it never happened.
The money over there is not enough, you know, you have to have a lot of money just to make a business.
Then I...
I fall in love, I got married, I got kids, then I'm still here!
I love Chicago, I love this place.
To leave, forever, Chicago?
No, no, no.
I like this place.
I've been living here for like 52 years.
And I have a lot of things over here, I have almost everything here that I need, you know.
The clinic is right there, the garden is right here.
I mean, I don't have to walk a lot, you know, I don't have to drive to find nice places.
Downtown is right there.
I have nice friends, you know, nice place where I live, I don't need no more.
For real.
All I need is what God wants to give me.
And now I'm ok, you know, getting older, but happy.
I'm enjoying my golden years.
All I need is: I ask God most of the time to let me live a long life, healthy, so that I can enjoy my family, my places, I want to [go] traveling, because there are quite a few places that I want to know, in Mexico.
Like, I don't know if you ever have heard about El Chepe?
It's a train from Chihuahua down to Los Mochis.
I wanna ride that one... Bilingual song!