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New Media Lab Experience Featured Writer Vice President of Student Affairs Carmen Newland Issue 09 -05-10-2021

Carmen Prado Newland grew up in the very small community of Blanco, New Mexico, which is located in the Four Corners region of New Mexico. She was the seventh child in a family of eight , and she spent her childhood running wild on seven acres of land adjacent to the San Juan River. For the first 8 years of her life, she did not watch television and grew to love the adventures she found in books. She had read every Nancy Drew book in the elementary school library by the time she was in third grade, and she was a fan of Stephen King by the sixth grade. She was extremely shy as a child and her dream was to become a librarian. While she didn't become a librarian, she loves that her career enables her to assist students with reaching their educational goals. Her current office at MCC is located inside the Paul Elsner Library, which fulfills her dream of a life that is full of books and adventures waiting to be discovered.

My Mother – My Strength

The woman is coming back. My heart beats faster as I look at the list of food on the paper in front of me. I try to find the right choice. What do I want? What is the right thing for me to eat? My brother is not even looking at his menu anymore. How do they know how to do this? What is wrong with me? There are just too many choices, and I know I am going to make the wrong one. My face feels hot. My Dad has ordered his food and now the woman is looking at my Mom. I don’t know. I don’t know. My stomach hurts. My Mom is telling her what she wants to eat. I can’t breathe! The woman is now looking at me and smiling. Did she say something? Am I supposed to say something? I feel a warm tear slide down my cheek. I hear my Mom say something and take my menu away. The woman nods, smiles and leaves the table. My mom puts her hand reassuringly on my leg as I pick at an invisible thread on my skirt.

I smell the lemon scented furniture polish that I had applied to the table legs a few days earlier. I see the shadows of pants and shoes through the blue, crochet edged cloth that drapes over the edge of the table. I make myself smaller and blend further into the shadows. The muffled conversation, the laughter, and the sounds of my Aunt and Uncle visiting with my parents enters into the small space. I listen without really caring about what they are saying. I only hope not to hear my name. Later the door closes. I return to the comfort of the couch, my Mom hands me a slice of apple, and the house is home again.

I practice my words out loud. Focusing on my pronunciation to distract myself from the emotions that are right on the edge of taking over. I have done my research, I have brought individual voices together, proofed my draft, and prepared the final copy. I don’t know how many people will be there, but I will find the strength to tell this story. Sitting between my children later that day, I feel my heart rate increasing and my palms getting damp. Somehow, when the time comes, I am fine. I step forward and then glance up and take a moment to notice the colored rays of sunshine lighting the cross above me. I take a breath, remember where my strength came from and begin to tell her story.

Carmen Prado Newland

5/9/21 (Mother’s Day)

Credits:

Created with an image by crispy-fotografie - "utah america nevada"