All I know for certain about religion is that the one my mother tried so hard to pass on to me just didn’t take.
More than anything, we hated the moves, the long drives in a hot car with squabbling siblings, then getting to the new post and having to be the new kid all over again.
At Westlake, even if your parents wouldn’t spring for Ralph Lauren, you could still work your way into the in crowd.
People have an attitude about the Panhandle, as if living there is a hardship. To this day, they offer condolences when they learn where I’m from.
My San Antonio was an overgrown small town, socially stratified and inbred, controlled by a handful of old, wealthy families.
My father, who had grown up on a farm, used to talk about his family’s killing a pig for the tamales, but this was back in the twenties.
A few of the streets near what used to be downtown have familiar names, but Arlington has mutated into a disconnected clump of shopping malls, cul-de-sacs, and gated communities, faceless, soulless neighborhoods that give urban sprawl a bad name.
The Gulf carried mendacity in every molecule. Its beauty, its tranquillity, was all a lie. It had created Galveston, carved out its deepwater port, tempted us with the promise of greatness, and then betrayed us.
My short, happy life as a Catholic schoolgirl.
The case for my Texanness.
Whenever I go to Fort Worth, I try to take a look at the little house where we lived. It’s amazing to think about what we went through.
One evening Ike and Tina came over for dinner to my mom and dad’s house. Tina kissed me on the forehead before I went to bed.
Larry McMurtry writes about how if you’re forced to leave Texas before you’re ready, before the state lets you go, you always dream of it.
I had no clue about the amount of magic Texas held. Texas had a persona all its own, and I was proud to be a little smidgen part of it.
It wasn’t until I moved away that I saw that a lot of art, a lot of what Texas is about, didn’t come only from San Antonio.
The prison affected me personally. I grew up parking cars at the prison rodeo. I had a stepfather who was a prison guard.
As the daughter of migrant workers from South Texas, I was taught to value education, choose my friends wisely, and stay on the right side of the law.
Homecoming in the town of Spur means football, the crowning of a queen, parades, pep rallies, barbecue, a bonfire, and so much more.
“I always thought that if I was having fun doing what I was doing and making a living doing it, then I was already successful.”