North Carolina State University - Agromeck Yearbook (Raleigh, NC)

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three Gabriela runs to greet me, gripping me around the knees so I can barely walk. I sit at the table and join in their conversation, listening eager- ly to all the details of their school day. They are anxious to share their work with me, and I scan several graded papers and creative drawings as I munch on the last bit of apple. Supper time already. You ' d think I was one of the great chefs of Europe with all the clanging and banging of pans that ' s going on. Actually only half of the noise can be at- tributed to me. Gabriela is pretending to be like Mommy and has the rest of the pans I ' ve been working for this for a long time, but what seems even more important at this point is that somebody considers my worth beyond that of being a wife and mother. 28 Interviews

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FER ' VIEWS married life They are all asleep. How I long to be nestled down under the thick blankets, drifting in a kind of nowhere land. But not today- this paper has to be done. By 7 I feel as if the day is half over. My paper lies on the table waiting for final proofing, but noises are beginning to seep from the bedrooms. The breakfast- school rush has begun. I desperately rush from room to room, finding lost socks, buttoning sweaters, scrambUng eggs, and trying to keep the toast from burn- ing. After the children are dressed and fed and the older ones are off to school, I settle back for a quick break before I have to get to class myself. Gab, my husband, is already in his study, working on his book. I think to myself how lucky I am that he shares in the responsibility of raising the children. Twice a week he works on his research and keeps the baby for me to attend classes. A warm feeling flows through my body as I sip the rest of my coffee and put the finishing touches on my paper. School at last. My first class is an elective and is held in a very large auditorium. I look at the faces as I enter the room. Those who are fresh and ready to go are sit- ting in the front - eyes diverted towards the podium. In the back, heads are prop- ped on arms, some tottering a bit as if they ' d not had enough sleep. It reminds me of how tired I am. I take a seat in the middle, hoping to just blend in with the crowd. The bell rings and I ' m off again - this time back home to feed the baby, grab some lun ch for myself, and put the baby down for her nap. It seems as if I ' m always on the go, no sooner is this done than it ' s time to get back for my afternoon class. Buenas tardas. Class begins in a confusion of voices, all speaking Spanish with different accents. A senior seminar — my last Spanish class before gradua- tion. Though it ' s not quite what I expected, I find myself babbling away, en- thusiastic about the subject as well as the people. I look for- ward to this class. It ' s small and the people share a kind of intimate exchange of knowledge. After brief good-byes and doubtful chatter about the grading of our papers, I hurry to my car, in hopes that I ' ll be home before the children get back from school. The children are already home when I arrive. Gab has put sliced apples and cheese on the table, and they are all gathered around the treats, stuffing first one and then the other in their mouths. Interviews 27

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married life on the floor, stirring and mixing her pretend concoc- tion. The phone rings (as it usually does when you ' re in the middle of something), and it ' s a stranger ' s voice, asking me if I ' d come in for an interview for a teaching, position. I ' m flattered. I ' ve been working for this for a long time, but what seems even more important at this point is that somebody con- siders my worth beyond that of being a wife and mother. I soar through dinner, excited about new possibilities that may be open for me. The day is finally grinding to a halt. Homework has been checked and the children are all gathered in the living room for their bed- time story. Gab begins reading. This is one of the nicest times of the day because we are all together and the rush of the day is over. With the children asleep. Gab reads the paper and I debate about getting out the books for a little study time. It ' s only 9 p.m. but I ' m so ex- hausted I don ' t think I can read one word. I flick on the T.V. set, but my mind is already racing ahead to the week-end, wondering what adventurous outing we should plan for Sunday afternoon. Perhaps a trip to the museum or maybe just a good romp in the park - whatever the week-end brings I know it will be a welcome break from the daily hassels of routine that will begin again tomorrow. Interviews 29