"Francisca Acosta, my mother,  was born on 07 June 1930 to Aurelio Lujan Acosta[1] and Manuela Sanchez[2] on a ranch in Leon Valley, Pecos, Texas.  This ranch is located near the town of Fort Stockton, Texas (See the map below.). She is the oldest daughter of an uneducated, self-taught, hard-working, migrant worker.  She was the first child of six born into a troubled home where her father's alcoholism and her mother's emotional and physical rejections were her constant companions."

    "The decade of the1930’s is marked by one of the darkest experiences the world has ever known.  The crash of the stock market in 1929 triggered a decade of austerity, poverty, and human suffering rarely experienced in the course of human history.  The Great Depression began exerting its influence on the entire world.  Jobs were scarce.  Money was even more so.  Educational opportunities were limited to the wealthy few.  Unimaginable calamities like the Jewish Holocaust and World War II were just around the corner."

    "Against this backdrop, as a general rule, a chasm of inequality on all levels existed between the worlds of the Anglos[3] and Mexican-Americans[4].  One needs to come to an historical understanding of what precipitated this situation.  As is the case in any conflict, during the Mexican Revolution in 1914-1918, great upheavals were about to take place.  The Rio Grande River, the traditional demarcation between Mexico and the United States became the center of a long dispute.  A group of "enterprising"[5], white Texans decided that if they changed the flow of the river, they would then be able to lay claim to the land that was created by that change.  This action, of course, infuriated the Mexican people.  Retaliating against the Texans, Pancho Villa, the Mexican revolutionary, made repeated incursions into the U.S. killing Americans and stealing their herds and other property to feed and supply his army.  General John J. Pershing, the future hero of World War I, was sent by the U.S. government to put an end to these incursions."   

    "In addition, in order to relieve overpopulation and reduce political and economic instability, the Mexican government encouraged massive migrations of her citizens to the United States.  At first, owners of farms and ranches welcomed these newcomers.  Jose Pantaleon Cristobal Acosta, grandfather of my mother, was among the first in these migrations.  He moved his entire family with him.  He had valuable skills as a “vaquero”[6].  Being a hard worker, he was good with cattle and horses.  Jose easily found employment on the ranches and farms in southern Texas.  What was attractive to landowners was that he and his “kind” could be paid less than their white counterparts thus, making operating a farm or ranch extremely profitable.  Furthermore, he could supervise a large number of laborers."

    "News of the good fortune of these first migrants quickly reached family and friends back in Mexico.  Even more decided to make the move to the United States.  Squalid shanties were built hurriedly to house the human influx.  It got to a point that there were larger numbers than could be accommodated.  Differences in economic earning power, education levels, language, religion, and color caused tensions between Anglos and Mexicans to run high.    In order to relieve some of that tension, laws were passed in the United States that allowed these workers or “braceros”[7] to cross the border legally to live and work in the United States." 

Time Capsule of 1930

            Mother's childhood would not have been a happy one. Being the oldest child, economic circumstances forced her to work in the fields of the farms where her father worked.  She would rise early in the day only to work 10 to 12 hours planting and harvesting crops and hoeing weeds.  She was most certainly involved in the maintenance of the home.  She would sweep the dirt floors, clean the rooms, change her siblings' diapers, wash clothes by hand and scrub board, and cook meals for her entire family.  She would make by hand corn and flour tortillas.  She would also make enchiladas, beans, and other Mexican delights.[11]  There was so little time to be a child.

     On those rare occasions when she did go to school, she enthusiastically learned all she could.  Her first grade reader would have been one of the Dick and Jane series.[12]  Sadly, despite her intense desires to obtain a good education when she was in the fourth grade, her father told her that she could not continue her formal education.  Rather, she would train to be a wife and mother for that was her role and destiny.[13]  She loved to learn and had aspirations to someday become a registered nurse.  The realities of the times and the dictates of her culture mandated that she be relegated to the life of an eighteenth century woman - “pregnant, barefoot, and ignorant”. 

    Coming from a Roman Catholic background, the Acosta family was Catholic in name only.  Rarely attending church, they did so only during a christening, wedding, or funeral.  They followed the traditions of their ancestry and in many ways, mysticism played a big part in their lives.[14]    

    Mother spoke many times of having her affections rejected by both her mother and father.  To cite another traumatic instance, her aunt Ester[15], because my mother had offended her in some way, chased her around the front yard of the family house, caught her, and took an ax hitting my mother on the forehead.  Her head bled profusely.[16]  Her parents had to seek medical attention for her.  On one occasion as a child, mother recounted to me being told to leave her parents' home and never come back.  She took this literally and was emotionally crippled.  She eventually returned later that evening not having gone far.  However, the damage was done.  On many other occasions, she had to drive her family's car in search of her father who was drinking at one of the local taverns.[17]  His intoxication was the source of much strife in the family.  He lost several jobs as a result forcing the family into an itinerant lifestyle.

    It is no wonder that my mother sought an escape from the hardships she endured as a child.  Her belief that there had to be a better way than what she knew drove her to an ill-conceived notion that she could do it through her own marriage.  My mother still had many deep-rooted issues that were unresolved from her childhood.  Francisca Acosta got married to Amando Esparza when she was fifteen (10 February 1946).[18]  After six births, her spouse's infidelity, and the ensuing strife it caused, the couple eventually divorced.

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