The Writing on the Floor

In a June post, I reflected upon the work that the subcontractors who have contributed to our project have done.  I have thought a lot about our house and the men who are out there on days of 106 degree temperatures, building the home where our family will live and our children will grow up for years to come.  I bought a bunch of sharpies and wrote a message to the workers that, in short, asks them to please write a message, blessing, saying, or just sign their name to demonstrate their work toward this project that means so much to Rob and to me.

For a week or two, my message sat lonely in the middle of the floor.  I worried that no one would respond. I wondered if my request seemed silly or selfish.  After all, I can hardly stand to be on site more than 20 minutes in the heat and I'm asking for yet another favor from the men who endure the summer temperatures and humidity for hours and hours every day.  I wasn't ready to give up, though.  I continued to stop by the house and introduce myself to the men working.  Sometime in June I met Antonio who was working to paint the exterior of the house.  What a kind and positive man! He gave me a huge smile each time I came by to say hello.  He was excited about the idea of having everyone write something and he set out to help me campaign.  He thought that, maybe, the note on the floor could be overlooked. So, he wrote his own note and posted it to a 2" x 4".

Translation: To everyone who would like to write a thought for the family who will live in this house, please write on the floor.  Thank you

 He also spoke to other workers on the site.  Pretty soon, there were several other messages...

The first message I saw was actually a draft of a message.  It was written in sharpie on a scrap piece of wood.  I found it lying off to the side of the living room.  Coincidentally, the previous day we had spent time in class at UT looking at images of authors' work in progress.  Well-known authors take notes on old envelopes or on the back of shopping lists, on scraps of papers or on napkins.  The authors who are building my home complete drafts on 2"x4"s!  I carried this piece of wood back to my house. I can hardly wait to show it to my students!

Nearby, was the final copy of his piece, on the floor...

Life with a significant other is akin to two horses pulling the same cart.  The horses are the heads of the household. The passengers aboard, wherever they are headed, are the children.  It is up to you to guide them on the right path.  In whichever path it may be, you should both pull the cart with equal force, because with just one, the feat would prove too difficult.

My friends and writing project colleagues, Gladiola and Felisha, sat with me while our writing group met to help me to tease out a worthy translation.  While it always feels that an English translation of such a metaphorical piece of text in Spanish does not do the piece justice, it helped me to realize the depth of thought and consideration that this analogy holds. I read it to mean that a couple shares equally the responsibility of guiding their children on the right path through life.  I picture a horse drawn carriage carrying the children and the parents as the horses. If one horse slacks off, the carriage veers off course.  We also talked about how it could also refer to how the paths we take in life vary in difficulty but how we must not become complacent or lazy but keep pulling forward with the same level of determination and shared goals no matter the feat.

Here is a note from Victor...

The place that we love, this is our home, where we spend the most important moments. 

~Victor Escobedo, fiberglass and shower pan.

I love the way Victor's words flow.  Isn't it so true that so often, with family, our best moments are spent together at home where we are comfortable and we are ourselves?

The piece below is incredibly honest and brave.  I love how he alternated colors and tied his own past experiences to advice for our family's future.

Testament of a father who died from alcoholism:  Date of death: July 15 1996 He drank so much that he never realized that he had developed an illness for which, even today, no doctor in the world has found a cure: alcoholism.  For this reason, if you drink or do other drugs, think about the fact that your parents or your children need you.  I write this from experience. My father left 7 sons and 5 daughters without thinking about who would support us in life.  All we could do was ask God to grant us each day.  Today, I am a father of four sons who I love very much.  I don’t want to relive the history of my father.  Therefore, I wish many blessings on this family, that they enjoy this beautiful house and know that sometimes we have to make sacrifices to obtain these material things.  We are grateful because through your sharing this opportunity, we have been able to provide for our children and our lives.

And with that I say goodbye.  Your friend, Cristo -insulation

When I am together at workshops or institutes with my colleagues from the Heart of Texas Writing Project, we often look at student work and practice "mining for gems" as Katherine Bomer puts it in her book, Hidden Gems.  We identify and name the strengths and strategies that authors, young and old, developing and experienced, use to reach the reader.  When I read Cristo's writing I think about what a personal experience he has published here on the plywood.  He has put his story out where others can read from it and learn from his experience, as he has learned from his own.

Unfortunately, I couldn't get the below piece to appear horizontally...

Thank you for giving us the opportunity to contribute a grain of sand to this, that will be your home and for allowing us to be a part of your home through these messages. ~Oscar, fiberglass and showerpan

*Please excuse the orientation of this photo. I'm not sure why it kept uploading as a vertical image...

Oscar's message makes me think of my own students and how, sometimes, just asking for someone's input, for their story, for their opinion, can value that person in ways in which a simple 'Thank you' could never suffice.  'A grain of sand' is one example of how Spanish is full of metaphors.  

Below is Antonio's message...

For you, Katie.  There are moments in life when we all want many things and we put purpose toward those goals and we try to achieve them, but we are unable.  We must always continue forward, step by step, and you have taken the first step in making your wishes, your purpose, a reality.  You are in your own house.  I appreciate the opportunity that you have given me to write this thought because it gives me the motivation to continue contributing a piece toward your home and continue working for all of the families so that they are happy and content.  May you be happy with our work!  Thank you, Antonio ~painter

It makes me smile that Antonio's message is addressed specifically to me.  There are several places on the floor where, I presume, Antonio wrote drafts and then painted over them.  My heart feels so full when I think of him thinking through the words that he would contribute.  I like thinking of our life as steps and pushing forward toward making our dreams a reality, even when faced with obstacles or challenging circumstances. 

As everyone warned us from the moment we bought "the lot" (as Rob often referred to our house for the first 4 years), the process of building a new home has not always been easy.  However, we have never lost sight of how blessed we are to have this opportunity.  I hope to frame many of the above messages and hang them in the house when it is complete as a constant reminder of how many people contributed to making this dream a reality.  Reading these messages has taught me the value of hearing others' perspectives and how asking someone about their life or for their opinion can help to build relationships across languages and cultures.  

We certainly will enjoy our new home!