Overwhelmed

The last few weeks I have been overwhelmed. Not just at work, but at home, with friends, with family, with everything. It is maybe the compounding of it all that overwhelmed me. In all honesty, it's a new feeling for me, so I struggled with it, I normally know what to do, I am the guy who helps others, but this time I was overwhelmed, and it made me anxious, depressed, and honestly a few times was straight up debilitating. 

Before you stress out for me, let me be clear, sometimes my feelings of being overwhelmed, came from positive things. Regardless though, it all contributed to my feeling of being completely out of whack the past few weeks (months honestly). I apologize if my stress lately impacted our relationship.

So what has me overwhelmed you might ask? Let me tell you. 

My work... For eight years I belonged to La Casa, now I don't. Its hard constantly correcting people about where I work, answering questions on why I left, was I forced out, did I want to leave, did I think their future looked good... so many questions, about a big piece of my identity that I lost. It is depressing feeling like, yeah I used to be the important La Casa director. 

My running... Its been nearly 3 months since I got injured while working on projects at La Casa. Time didn't heal it, physical therapy didn't, and feeling like we have made no progress is really depressing. A large of my identity has been running, then biking, and building up my triathlons...  It is depressing thinking that I was a couple months away from attempting a half Ironman and then squatting down while volunteering sidelined me. 

My community... the out pouring of support from friends, clients and La Casa connections was honestly overwhelming. It was nice when people offered me a job, ha... I feel like anyone working in the non-profit industry is recruiting, but I got a cool new gig it's why I left (no drama ya'll it was just time, and good timing). 

Like I said earlier, some of the overwhelmed feeling came from positive things... excitement of the new job, so much support and congrats as I left, but overwhelmed is overwhelmed. 

The last month I have not been me, mixing up appointments, forgetting things, being moody, wanting to avoid places I normally like to go, wanting to be alone... I am a social butterfly but lately I just wanted to be alone and left alone, maybe so I can process and get this feeling of being overwhelmed over with, and then I realized it wasn't the list of things above that were actually overwhelming me and making me not want to go out as much.... 

My identity for the past eight years just changed. "Hi, I'm Sam, I work at La Casa de Amistad". What do I say now? I used to complain that describing what La Casa was to people was hard, and giving out my email to people super hard (sam@lacasadeamistad.org) since it is so long! Well now describing CDFI Friendly South Bend takes a whole background story and pseudo sales pitch, and not sure how I did it, but my web address is now longer than ever (www.cdfifriendlysouthbend.org). 

So again, my apologies if my transition in my work life negatively impacted our relationship. I needed to get this all off my chest as part of closure for one chapter, excitement for the next one, and to take a deep breath of calm for once. 

To others who feel overwhelmed... holler, I am no expert in all that, but I am handling it as best I can, and I know you will also, but if I can help, let me know. 

Reset. 194 Miles. Refresh.

Reset. 

Last week I had the chance and found the time (and weather cooperated) to go back to Gingerman Raceway for a track event with the SCCA. I was nervous all week, I just had a little car work done, will the Z be fine, will it still be fun despite all the work stress swirling, is it worth missing kids activities that evening... 

As I pulled out of the driveway I thought, let's hit reset on the trip odometer and see how many miles this back and forth trip will be when it is done. When I got home I had done a total of 194 miles. It is 65 miles to the race track, about the same back of course, so that means I drove about the same 65 miles around the curves of the track. 

When you are prepping to drive on a race track, at least for me... is one of those those nerve racking things... that leading up you are in knots, you are stressed, you worry the car will fail, worried you will fail, worried you will crash... worried something really bad might happen. 

When you are done on the race track, at least for me... is weight lifting, stress relieving, powerful energy building of... yeah I just did that... and I got to do it for 65 miles that night. 

I felt like I hit reset on me. 

Since then my life trip odometer has gone a tad more than 194 miles. I am realizing more and more that I have to find more times to hit reset. Maybe I can't go to the track weekly (that would be cool though) but I need to be able to look around, enjoy things, be present, and enjoy life more. 

When I am on the track, just Me and My Z, I zone out a little, I smile more, I grit my teeth hard in the corners, I talk to my car and whisper sweet nothings to her to keep going, I just enjoy my car, my hobby, my time. 

As a parent your identity gets tied to your kids, or as a leader it gets tied to your work, there are so many things in this world taking your time, and trying to take your identity. 

With all the changes coming in my life with work, new boards, leaving boards, kids school, family, etc... I need to measure my mileage, check on my mental health, and I need to hit reset. So maybe here we go, time to refreshed. 

Reset. 

For Harold and Mildred

I often post about my immigrant background, especially as it relates to work (La Casa) and my dad's side of the family. Well the past two weeks I thought a lot about Harold and Mildred, my mom's parents.

My grandpa owned Coates Tire in Saginaw, MI. He never even started high school, was a military vet who worked hard in a tough industry... working on cars. It was one of the ways him and I connected, I loved cars and he worked on them, and always look back and wish I had spent more time with him talking cars. 

Last month I joined the Board of Trustees for the Studebaker National Museum in South Bend, IN. I remember when I told my grandpa I was moving to South Bend he cracked a joke about something Studebaker and that he never liked working on them or something... but anyhow at our big Concours Show last week one of the guys there showing off his car reminded me of grandpa. My mom would tell stories of how proud grandpa would be when he got his first new new car, and made them all go for a drive. 

My grandpa taught me to give people a shot. To learn to explain things to people in ways that make sense to them. He taught me loyalty, taught me to always be respectful, and that no matter what happens, there is always a solution. He never finished school, so I think something he felt like he wasn't as "smart" as us grandkids with fancy college degrees. We all knew he was smarter than us all put together. He never found a challenge he couldn't best, and monthly during college, my grandpa who couldn't of afforded to go to college himself, sent me pizza money. 

My grandma worked as a teller with a local savings and loan. When we first moved to the states, my older brother and I lived with my grandparents. It was a few blocks from her job, and my grandma diligently got us ready for school and headed off to her office. She was a proud professional and heading to work reinforced to us kids that greatest generation work ethic they were known for. I remember it was years later, that my mom wrote reflecting on her life growing up, and it included the news article of my grandma being robbed at gun point as a teller! As a board member today of a large credit union (NDFCU) I think about grandma when we talk about staff security and how we treat our employees and the pride our staff have of a hard days working helping people out financially. 

I had the pleasure of having all four grandparents growing up. I don't get to Saginaw, MI as often as I would like, but when I do I usually drive by where Coates Tire was... I often compare South Bend's automotive past to my hometown with its General Motors past. 

So this blog is a shout out to my American roots, to Harold and Mildred from Saginaw, MI. They were my first roof in this country, they were my first ride to school, and I hope that I continue to honor what they taught me today through my work and actions. Love you two, miss you. 

Past blog about grandpa: Greatest Grandpa Harold 
Past blog about grandma: Lessons from Grandma Millie

Miguel for Ward 6

Yesterday my brother stepped into the ring. He ran for city council in Oxford, MS. He ran as a Democrat. He ran against an incumbent Republican. He ran knowing the odds were not in his favor. He ran know the state leans a little red (or a lot). 

Sometimes you step into the ring, not just to try to win. Maybe not even to get a knock down. Maybe just to put a cleverly placed jab. Maybe to get one good clean swing. Maybe you step in knowing you’ll get knocked down. 

You always step into the ring to tell the opponent you aren’t scared. You always step in ready for their best, and to try and give your best. Sometimes your best isn’t enough. But you always let them know, you aren’t scared. 

Thank you Miguel for stepping up, getting in the ring, and not being scared and showing them what you are made of. 

Proud of you Bro! 

Bullies and mowing my lawn.

Today was interesting to say the least. After work I spent time with the kids and Cruz mentioned getting bullied... a kid told him he was going to beat him up. I said, what did you do, and he replied, "I ignored him". 

So we talked about bullies, interesting timing for me, as I had a rough day. So we talked, and I told him yes that is what we do, and that never let a bully make you feel bad about yourself. Mari jumps in, "We know, you always tell us that"... yes I replied and I asked why... "I don't remember" she replied. So I told them again, never let a bully make you feel bad, you should feel bad for them. They are hurting and want to make you hurt to feel better about themselves. I added, that you never return mean with mean, it gets you nowhere, it makes you a bully as well. 

Then we want home, they did trash while I mowed the lawn. Nothing calms me more after a long day than mowing the lawn. Not sure why, but it has always been very therapeutic. We work in a complex world, when projects are never finished, visions are never complete, one strategic plan gives way to another, and so many things are theoretical with no true end. 

While the lawn will need to be mowed again, tonight it is done. Tonight, I started it, I finished it, and I took a picture of it. I accomplished it. No one complained, one neighbor actually stopped me and complimented me on it (also good timing, thanks divine intervention). There are a lot of ways to mow the lawn, I have my way, others have their way. 

Today was interesting. I had a good talk with my mom and dad. Sat and chatted with my oldest. We will see where tomorrow goes. 

I couldn't have asked for more perfect timing to have a bully lesson with the kids. Glad that was put in our path today, and glad that I was reminded how important it is to be kind, to be gentle with others, and most important gentle with myself. Then my favorite poem came to mind. 

from Desiderata - Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit...

Full poem here: https://mwkworks.com/desiderata.html

Dead Last Winner

A couple weeks ago I did a triathlon. I didn't feel like it was an achievement so I didn't post, and then I got busy. I mean it was an indoor one, a short sprint one, I had the date wrong so it was a week earlier than my training plan was set up for, and I came in dead last. 

I immediately was grinding on all the excuses. I mean there were only 11 male competitors, and all experienced (well it looked like it), and people kept coming over to talk to me during the biking part, and yes I had trouble getting the treadmill at my pace, and like I mentioned I never got my trial run (I planned to do the triathlon as a test run the weekend before). Plus I always have the "I hate swimming" triathlon excuse about why I didn't do well. 

Well I am here to say, I am proud of my times. Last or first, it was an accomplishment. Yeah I hate swimming will always be my excuse, but honestly, I should of celebrated more. It was a big deal, I did something I hate (swimming), I did something I love (running), and I didn't care how I looked or how it turned out. 

No matter what, I won, I am a winner. I beat the pandemic, I beat my fear of the swim portion, and I continue to beat the desire to sit on the couch and do nothing. So maybe you are out there feeling like you can't, but hey, you can, you might come in last, but you will finish... and be a winner.

Covid has made the world weird, and one thing we need to do is celebrate the wins, even when they were a loss. Yeah I came in dead last, but hey, I completed another triathlon! So that is something I should celebrate, and something I will brag about... now if only i can get my butt in gear and work on some Ironman training then I can really celebrate, even if I come in dead last.

Busted Knuckles

Well this former Autotech Community College Dropout (past blog on going back to school) is back at the grind. I am sure you have seen pictures of the Z getting worked on, or remember younger pictures of N helping me change our wheels on her car, or dudeman Cruz helping me change an air filter. 

This week in my auto shop class I handled something much less sexy. I rolled in our minivan, she turned the 100,000 mark during pandemic and was due for brakes. I got rotors and pads for all four corners, and bring our baby in. She has helped a college kid move back from pandemic, back to school, loaded mulch for the yard, tools for the garage, and tons of donations to Goodwill. I honestly enjoy driving the van and tell people don't hate on the van.

For those that think I know cars, I am no mechanic... I mean I can tell you what years the Fiero body style changed, when the new Z is coming out, and pretend to explain how a twin turbo works, and what the stock wheels options were on a '75 Datsun... but when it comes to wrenching I still have a lot to learn. Hence, maybe while I am taking classes... and on top of the personal learning, I have a long term project in which getting my Autotech Degree will serve a purpose. 

So anyhow busted knuckles... I remember I wrote a blog years ago about privilege and perceptions (link here). As I walked around after (hands are still a little stained two days later) I started to get embarrassed, or kept my hands in my pockets, but you know, I am proud that I learned something. I am proud that my hands did my brakes, yeah I saved about $1,000 in labor, and I am thankful to the shop guys who caught my mistakes, laughed at me about mounting a rear rotor in the front, or just handed me tools and helped me clean up. 

Well here is the van.. some before, some after, and the baby up in the air. Man I wish I had that lift in my garage! Ha. 

Novali's Keys

The past week our house was a buzz... my parents came for a quick visit, N came home from college to see them, and she brought Leo the cat. Needless to say our house was full, no one got much sleep, we all caught up on life, and spent some good quality time together. We all went to a car show, Cruz and I detailed N's car, my mom did lots of reading to the kids, and my pop and I did some projects (including work on my Z and at La Casa). 

One thing over the weekend though really struck me, had me thinking, and made me want to write about it. Over the weekend I took Ns car out to fill the tank and run an errand. As I walked into the store I looked at her huge jumble of keys, and I thought no wonder women have purses, so much stuff! Then I thought... wait what is this thing... 

My keys are just my Brew Werks bottle cap opener, house key, and car key. Nothing more, nothing less, and I do wish my car key was smaller... but anyhow not the point of this story. My keys fit easily in my pocket. My keys do what I need; start my car and unlock my house. My keys have never had to be a protective device. My key ring has never had to be loaded with something to defend myself. My keys are keys. 

Novali's keys are keys, but her keys also might have to save her life. Novali's keys shouldn't have to be, but they include a protective device. Novali's keys are a sign of one of the many things that are wrong with this world. 

Novali's keys this weekend reminded me to speak up, to challenge behavior, to work to create a safer world, and that I need to be better myself. I hate that she lives in a world where her keys might have to be a weapon. I can't fix it all, but I can try, and we can try, and we must all work together to make this world a safer place. No one should have to turn their key... the item that unlocks their place of safety and comfort, into a weapon to protect their safety or make them feel more comfortable in a dark parking lot. 

I talked to Novalí about it... it turned into the most frank, most enlightening, and most open conversation we have ever had. Ranging from me never crying in front of her, to talking about my therapist, her fear of riding a bike, and her not being born a boy. So for other parents, a conversation about what your kids carry on their keyring might turn into a powerful conversation. If anything, for those of us who only carry keys that unlock things, talk to someone who caries keys that might save their life, and ask them why. Trust me it will be a good conversation for you, and just listen. 

Hopefully all these conversations will help us get one step closer to a next generation doesn't have to carry a weapon on their keyring...

Vacuuming the Titanic

This weekend I vacuumed newly installed carpet. 

A few weeks ago I dusted newly painted spaces, months ago I swept after demolition started, and sometimes it honestly felt like we were never going to get it done. Like I was rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic... but today it felt like we were so close to success that nothing can stop us. 

This week I spent time with my dad and Cruz refinishing tables for our citizenship class. My dad is a naturalized citizen, and Cruz is a born and bread Hoosier. I am in the middle, born in another country but with birthright Citizenship, so I never had to take the test. I want to teach Cruz that his privilege of citizenship, is because of the sacrifice his grandfather made. I think this week we helped connect those dots a little more. 

While managing volunteers at our building project (El Sueño Project) has been hard... often times frustrating honestly, it has been a labor of advocacy. We are getting the chance to tell others not just about our work, but about why the work is important. 

We have been working nearly every Saturday at the building for the past 6 months (or more actually) and we have a few more weeks on interior work, and a few months on exterior work... I will continue going up to move things, organize... and sometimes just walk around and think about this dream, this project and grab a vacuum and clean. 

53rd Monday

Last week I crossed the mark, got the notification on my watch, that I had meet my daily "move" goal for 365 days (760 active calories). So that means today was my 53rd Monday in a row trying to #MakeMondayCount. I am not sure when I started using the hashtag, but I remember when I broke my last streak of move goals, and I thought... just before pandemic hit... can I do a whole year? 

Yes, yes I can. I did. I might take Tuesday off, I might not, honestly not sure. I know today I skipped my morning spin class, but did make it to a Body Pump class and closed my move ring and I #MadeMondayCount. 

I have always liked to do the opposite, instead of hating Mondays, I thoughts let's make Monday my day! Let's set the tone for the week, let's push hard, let's get a ton done, let's bring Friday one day closer. Now I like Friday, but I also like Monday... 

So here is my quarterly blog... ha. Maybe I should write every Monday... but it has been rejuvenating to me, to see how many people say that my journey to better fitness inspired them. I love when people tell me my positive posts (and not just my #MariGems posts) motivate them. I think knowing that other people see what I do, has pushed me to be better, to work harder, and stay on the grind. 

Maybe I make Tuesday count tomorrow... hey maybe not. Either way you know, you can, and you can own Mondays, or any day of the week. If I can do it for 53 Mondays in a row, you can do this week. 

MLK Called Us To Act

I have been thinking about what to write, not just for today, when we celebrate the life and impact of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., but about everything going on in our country, in the world, in my life today. On Sunday we watched some children's focused documentaries on Dr. King with my kids (6 and 10).  It got me thinking about why we remember MLK... the videos focused on what he believed, racial equality, social justice, non-violence, etc. I don't think it is what he believed that made him impactful, and made him an icon... many people believe what he believed, many more believe because of him... he made an impact because he acted on that belief. 

So as we think about about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. today here are some of my suggestions and reflections on his life, impact and how you can help the cause he gave his life for many years ago. 

LEARN
Learning about social justice is a good place to start. Dr. King learned, he learned lessons because of his background, his religion, his education. He learned because he listened, to those who came before him, to those who disagreed with him, and to youth whose innocence teaches. I think on MLK Day we should all use this time to learn, to learn about his life, how he made an impact, but also then about what he is happening today. The fight for civil rights is not over, it has evolved, things have improved, but we have a long way to go. My family spent time watching an MLK documentary, we read some of our books about civil rights, so if you don't have books in your house for all ages... order some now, and keep the around to learn about it and teach your children. 

SPEAK UP
Believing in something isn't enough... we must share what we think, what we believe. We must share with others why these things matter to us, we must tell people why their views hurt, why what they think is not just an opinion, but that it's wrong. You don't have to fight over it, but you have to speak up, and can't just leave it be. You might not change a mind, but be clear you disagree. 

ACT. JUST ACT
Thinking the world should be better won't make it so. Telling people what you believe is a start, but things don't move unless you push on them, unless you pull them, unless you pry a little, until you crack it open. It might hurt, it might be rewarding, it might feel futile, it might be everything you fear... but if it is the right thing to do, then we need to start, not tomorrow, today. 

So what are some things you can do: 

Learn - read about social justice, learn about restorative justice, either in books, online or others. Ask people questions, listen, try to reframe your perspective.
Spend - where do you spend your money? Where do you donate? Find Black owned businesses near you, shop a Mexican grocery store, go to an immigrant restaurant... your dollars make a difference. 
Act - volunteer at places that are making a difference. Take your family, your kids, recruit co-workers... that is a way of speaking up, telling others at work you are volunteering at La Casa, the MLK Center, or something near you make a difference. 

STOP JUDGING
Last thing... I am not perfect, far from it. I try though, I learn, I listen, I act, and I make corrections, I can and will do better. Let's give each other some grace, let's support each other, let's stop judging others. Judging won't change minds, and putting others down won't win this fight. We all have dreams, we all have fears, we all worry, we all want a better world, and we won't get there until we work together to make it so. 

Sueños. Why I Can't Sleep.

First week of January 2014 I couldn’t sleep. I was four months into a new job and my bank account was drained because I didn’t get a paycheck. There wasn’t enough money to cover payroll so I took the hit. In the mail that week came two big grant checks, ah, breathing space. I still couldn’t sleep with so much uncertainty, but dreams of the future kept me going. 

First week of January 2018 I couldn’t sleep. I’d driven by a huge empty school as I left the gym. I noticed the listing. Was it too big? Was it too far? Was it just right? Was it meant to be? I couldn’t sleep, worried if we were going to make the right decision, but dreams of the future kept me going. 

First week of January 2020 and I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts on hoping people like the orange accent color, or if the flooring was right that we picked. I couldn’t sleep because someone knocked over the fire hydrant on our block and I wasn’t sure if that costs us money to repair (luckily it appears no). 

I can’t sleep.
I am a worrier.
It’s kinda what I do.

I think I inherited that from my mom. However, I also inherited her faith. Faith that if I focus on the right things, the pieces will fall into place. I also inherited a work ethic from my dad that told me if I worked hard and had help anything was possible. So far, that’s worked out pretty well.

I want to thank everyone for always helping us overcome obstacles. I want to thank you for giving me new things to worry about. 

I can’t sleep but now it’s not because I didn’t get paid, it’s because I was worried if the new health insurance plan for staff rolled in correctly (it did!). We keep looking forward, we keep growing, and can’t wait to see what the future brings. 

I can't sleep now because of what is happening in DC, but not because of what bad might come of it all, but because of what positive things will come out of it. Focus on the right thing, have faith it will come together, and work hard for it. Like my parents taught me. 

I can’t sleep because this project can’t get done fast enough... and once it is done, I’m sure I will have new things to lose sleep over… and that’s okay. So, thanks friends - for giving me awesome things to celebrate and making some of my worries go away. 

I can’t sleep, but because of all the great things happening, and I can’t be more excited about it all. 

Learn more about that dream, "El Sueño" here: https://lacasadeamistad.org/sueno-project/ 

New Year, New You, New Owe

Often New Years resolutions are about what you plan to do, for you. What you will do to improve your life, how you will live your life differently, to make things better, for you. Stop drinking, start lifting, quit junk food, lose weight, get a promotion, run farther, let your nails grow, etc. 

After what we survived in 2020, the new world we enter in 2021, and the new person you have become through this year... remember you are already a new person. So the question is I guess, who do you owe? 

I think about my mom. Polio survivor, cancer fighter, moved from one continent to another multiple times... those moves weren’t for her, they were for others. One of the moves to ensure we had a better life, couple to be closer to my grandparents/abuelita to help them have a better life, one to be closer to her grandkids... I owe her. So many family members that came before us, molded us, encouraged us, pushed us... I will do like my parents did, I owe them that.  

I think about my kids. My kids didn’t pick this life, they don
’t know anything other than what we provide for them. Is it enough, is it too little, is it just right... I don’t know, but I do know I owe them to be what they need, I owe them my best. I think about all the times people ask my motivation to get healthier, and yeah I joke that it’s to get abs, but honestly it was for them. To be here to be healthier and be around, for them, I owe them that. 

I think about my work. Over seven years ago I was hired, and told the dream of La Casa was to grow. I said in my interview I would do all I could to help us grow. They asked me to lead it, I agreed, and I owe them to give it all I got, cause I said I would, I owe them that. 

I think about all the people who suffered in 2020. I know most of us had set backs, but many lost a mother, a job, a friend, a dream... We all owe it to them to give our best this year, to move forward without regret, to love without fear, to push with all we can this year, we owe them that. 

My long time readers know that I don't make NYE Resolutions (Blog: No Resolution, but Lots of Resolve). So what does this all mean? As usual, I have no idea, but I wanted to throw these ideas down, maybe they help you. Who do you owe? Why do you work hard? What motivation can you find, outside of yourself to keep moving? May all those things remind you, and remind me, why I focus, why I work hard for those I owe. 

A Hoosier Home

I will be honest 2008 was a crazy year, maybe not as crazy as 2020, but crazy still. January 2008 I moved into a little apartment in South Bend and Feb 1, 2008 I started a new job at Indiana University South Bend. The first week of July I decided to propose and in November, bought a house.
Yeah crazy year. 

It was November 2008 that we closed. It was a crazy process, the stock market crumbled while we negotiated home price, Heather was interviewing all over the area, and the same day, just before our closing she interviewed at Notre Dame. Fingers crossed we went into it hoping we would both have work, we would love South Bend, and this would be "home". 

This home has been great, great to me, great to our family. I got this painting done, by my friend Erin Kelley (Traveling Art Company), painted this summer as an anniversary gift. I wanted it painted at my favorite time of the year, spring when the crab apple tree is in full bloom. I love the yard in the spring, and the symbolism of rebirth and life always inspires me. 

This home has provided, not just shelter, but in so many other ways... it allowed me to host my three siblings, their families, and my parents visiting from Bolivia (like 13 people at that time), when I took the job at La Casa we refinanced to drop our monthly payment, my two youngest were brought home from the hospital here, . So in a way, the house supported me as a dad, helped in my non-profit venture making less money to make a difference in the world, and not to mention all the repair skills I learned! Then when prepping for Novalí to go to college, I knew we needed to refinance again, we took money out to ensure we could help her, and have some more for some home improvements. 

These bricks have provided. 

This home has been work, they say nothing worth doing comes easy. From yard work to painting, to tearing down walls and laying down flooring... it has been a labor a love. It is almost like thanking her for providing... painting the garage, daddy daughter decorating, giving her new windows, a modern roof (this baby had slate tiles when we bought it!), to my car cave project this summer... she appreciated the updates, and returned the favor in helping us store all of N's stuff from college when covid caused her to move back from Grand Rapids. (I tagged a few old blogs on house projects)

This home to us turns 13 (built in the 30s), the troublesome adolescent years have started... this year brought plumbing trouble, boiler repairs, and who knows what else, and I am sure 2020 isn't done hitting us yet. 

This home has challenged me, taught me, supported me, and yes I know it is a completely inanimate object but hey I have spent 12 years of my life with it. 

My bigger reflection, this home is now the longest single place I have lived. My childhood home in Saginaw was just about 12 years time, I lived in Bolivia under 7 years, so we will be my longest home. Not sure why this feels significant to me, but you all know I get fairly sentimental, and more so lately as I age. It also means South Bend will become the place I have lived longer than anywhere... I call myself Bolivian, I say I was raised in Michigan, but let's be honest, I am raising Hoosiers, and I am more Hoosier than anything else. 

It's official. I am a Hoosier. 

College Drop Out

Tuesday morning, at 7:55AM I walked into Ivy Tech Community College. I was nervous, I had not walked into the tech hall in over 6 years. I was anxious, I had not taken a college class in 8 years. I was excited to hang out in the big auto shop again. I was worried how much I forgot and wondering if I was ready... I know the night before I tried to log into their online learning platform and had trouble. I was a drop out, now I am back, let's see how it goes.

I love cars, always have, since as early as I can remember I loved cars, I sketched them, dreamed of them, and wanted to drive them, work on them, design them. I loved cars so much I became an engineer, and I was blessed to be good enough at math to make it through all the worst classes in college... I landed cool internships, and lived my dream of designing cars. 

I love cars, but being an engineer nearly ruined that, working 60-80 hour weeks on deadlines, was hard... the paychecks were nice, but man it was crazy at times. I got to be behind the scenes at auto shows, see things I worked on turning on a display case for the world to see, got a patent in my name, and then decided to walk away. 

I love cars and ten years ago when I got a job at Ivy Tech the first place I went... the auto shop. My first full semester there, I used that tuition benefit and took a class (Blog: Shop Class for the Soul). I was at the time struggling with my fit at Ivy Tech, and less than a year later... I was working at La Casa. 

I love cars, but my transition to La Casa, and then having Mari, all took a toll on my ability to enjoy hobbies, to work on cars, to blog, to be more me. Maybe it was quarantine, maybe it is that the kids are older and able to make their own breakfast, but I got back into hobbies (Blog: Hobby Time). 

I love cars but I have always put everything else first. My work, house projects, consulting projects, my volunteer commitments and yes of course my family. So that meant hobbies fell 6th, 8th... or completely off the radar. This was my year to reclaim it all, and yes kids come first, but we got the Z on the track this year, I am completing my Hot Wheels collection, and yes, I am back in the auto shop. 

I love cars... So why was it scary to enter the shop again? I felt like I failed each semester that went by and I didn't finish my degree. I felt what it was like for a working parent, trying to take classes, juggle kids, work.... and I failed. I needed to get back in there and do it. 

I love cars... and finally that love was more than my fear. I honestly don't know much about working on cars, I know a rotor and caliper, and I can change brake pads... but I have no idea how the brake booster works, or how the vacuum works in the engine or why I can't stop my dang Z from burning so much oil (ha). I don't like being in places where I don't know, it is humbling asking for help, with either the cylinder compression test tool, or the online learning modules (I swear I think its different on my Mac, I still can't get right). 

I love cars, I am excited, and nervous and anxious, but here we go. Wish me luck, I remember how proud my Grandpa Harold was when I told him I was taking a shop class (he was a mechanic and owned a garage), I am sad he won't see me graduate. Yeah I got to get this done, maybe just for me, maybe for Grandpa, but for sure for my kids, so they know their dad isn't a quitter. 

The Quechua Gringo

For Father's Day my daughter got me an Ancestry DNA test. I loved the idea, I hated the waiting time, and the results have been, well interesting.

I was born in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. I was born to Beverly Coates of Saginaw, MI and Daniel Centellas Castillo of Oruro, Bolivia. 

I was born as most would describe, white. Or as my Bolivian family called me, "Casperin", better known in English as Casper the friendly ghost. Yeah I was that white; and luckily that nickname, or Elmer Fud (I was also bald for a long time), didn't stick.

I moved to the USA as a primary Spanish speaking kid who most would describe as, an immigrant, in Michigan, AKA Mexican. I went to school with ESL supports and when most heard I was a Latino/Immigrant, they would say, "but you don't look Mexican." 

I grew up in the medium sized Michigan town of Saginaw, fairly diverse but really segregated. I never felt like I fit in. I was "too white" to hang with the Mexican/Latino kids. I felt too poor to hang with the white kids in my AP classes, they grew up in less diverse areas than my middle class city neighborhood. 

I went to college and found more of my "Latino-ness" by getting involved in our Latino club and a historically Latino Fraternity (Sigma Lambda Beta). As a senior leader on campus, it was probably one of the first time I would hear the "Yeah, you look Latino" line that I get today... cause I really don't feel like I look Latino, or often not felt very Latino at all. Previous Blog: I am that Latino, but not that Latino

I am now working at La Casa de Amistad, and maybe more in touch than ever with my immigrant and Latino/Bolivian side. A couple years ago I made a trip to Bolivia with my older brother and my daughter. I got my Bolivian passport before this trip, but I didn't get to my dad's hometown.

So back to the DNA test... they say it is what is inside someone that matters, not sure if DNA is what they meant, but that is what this post is about. I am not gonna lie, I always considered myself Bolivian/American, I knew my abuelita spoke indigenous languages, and that while they had Spanish surnames my family looked like the native Quechua and Aymara cultures and communities of the Andes. I always grew up amazed by the culture, by the beauty at the Isla del Sol and Copacabana (Lake Titicaca), and the amazing structures at Tiwanaku. 

Seeing the DNA result was the first time I considered myself indigenous. I guess I always knew, but never connected the dots. Maybe because I look so much like my Michigan, European-tied ancestry? See that my largest single DNA source was the indigenous regions of the Andes Mountains in Bolivia just hit me. I have maybe still not processed it, and writing this is part of that, especially leading up to the American holiday celebrating Columbus, the person who brought the Spanish and French influence in my DNA. 

Maybe it is the circle of life and about how we are all connected that I want to celebrate? Maybe it is the stronger connection I now feel to the impressive feats of my Andes Ancestry? Maybe I as usual don't know how to feel, or what to say, except, a clear thank you to Novali for the test. Now to keep unpacking my history, my future, and how this white indigenous kid fits into the world. 

I was born in Santa Cruz, raised in Saginaw, living in South Bend, raising Hoosiers, and just trying to be the best I can, regardless of what I look like on the outside, how I feel inside, where my blood came from, but on where I am going. Knowing a little more about where I came from, is refreshing and for now I will leave it at that. 

Thanks Mom and Dad. 

Quarantine Birthday

The past week was a whirlwind. One of my best friends passed away, I had a birthday, work was crazy, but between it all I worked to try and find ways to have fun with the kids. I feel like Megan would of reminded me to do that as things got crazy and I did... quick recap. 

Since my birthday was on a Thursday, and we normally don't do much, with no real plans I decided to donate my big day to La Casa. Instead of just a FB fundraiser, I planned a work day for people to come and help with our project. I posted an event and figured lets see what happens... 

Unfortunately a few days before I found out one of my best friends, Megan Baker, passed away. It came out of nowhere, it was a major shock, and all I knew was that I wanted to see her mom and write a blog. One of my gifts is saying the right thing, and it's the gift I tried to give the family. I wrote "Thanks Megan" for her, and then planned what I would tell Lois. Ultimately I decided I actually didn't know what to say, but instead of giving her my condolences, I told her thank you. I told her thank you for then gift that Megan was to the world, and I felt bad more people would not get to experience the gift. Hopefully I can still get to a Baker Holiday party in the near future like the old days. Love you Megan and the entire Baker clan. 

I left Detroit in time to get home and get to my planned excursion the day before my birthday... on September 2nd Gingerman Raceway had a test and tune track night and I thought I would slide up there and get a few laps in. It was a long day, it started with a #SunriseRun on the Detroit coast of Michigan past Megan's house and church, and ended having a #SunsetDrive in South Haven on what people call the third coast (Michigan). The track night was an adventure, shattered my driver window, I went into the sand, and then my headlights didn't work on the way home. I made, it was fun... I tried to get some rest. 

On my actual birthday we worked... I was at our construction site from about 11AM to nearly 9PM. I had people drop off donuts, dilly bars, jimmy johns, drinks, cupcakes and my kids brought me balloons. About twenty people showed up to help with the building project and whew wee we got a lot done! Part of our project us that we do a lot of the work to save ourselves money. So cha ching we working off the debt! 

I celebrated over the weekend... it was great Novali called and told me she was coming down for my birthday. I asked her to wait for Friday and it worked great because our SB Cubs stadium was hosting a family movie (Rookie of the Year) on the field with fireworks so what a treat for my birthday that we were all together. 

Saturday more stuff I love... N and Cruz came with me to Cars and Coffee at the Studebaker National Museum here in South Bend. We saw some cool cars, talked to some friends, Cruz smashed some donuts while I chugged coffee. Then N asked about going garage saling... can't turn that down so we dropped off the dude and hit up some sales. She found some more cute stuff for her apartment and asked about lunch... I suggested Puerto Rican Bakery and off we went... 

Basically the entire weekend was me eating all the things... Friday my cheese steak nachos at Four Winds Field, Saturday carne frita Puerto Rican style with tostones, I had a Jimmy Johns cookie, and while grocery shopping I snagged a deal on some wings that I made as a midnight snack on Saturday. 

Sunday woke up late, took the day off of working out, and cooked sausages for breakfast. Did house work and then Mari asked about going to Strikes and Spares, for indoor go karts... you know this Papi can't turn that down... and she made me proud. Her first time out she started in fourth, behind three boys, she passed them all, while a flustered dad egged on his son to not get passed by a girl... well he did, and she was stern faced and serious and mad that he kept cutting her off... but she got him. Didn't even smile, she just kept looking ahead driving. When I congratulated her after all she said was, "he kept bumping into me". 

Then we did garage and yard work. They rode scooters and kinda helped me clean, but at least hung out with me outside and we enjoyed some sun between the rain showers. I have several projects to finish on my Z that has either broken recently or that need to get wrapped up before my next few events. I think for the next weekend Cars and Coffee event I am going to put my black wide rims back on, then I can clean my Shelby Cals well for the next couple track events... 

Thank you everyone who sent a card, called/texted, came and helped or just sent me positive vibes to keep me rolling through the end of a rough year. Cheers to 42 and continuing to enjoy life! 

Thanks Megan

Megan was one of those people who could absolutely change your whole day, whole week actually, with a few simple words. 

“Ooohhhh, counter part, I love that shirt!”  

Your day changed. Maybe insignificant to some. Maybe just said in passing. Maybe made the difference I needed on a tough college week that wasn't going my way. Maybe she knew I needed it, no, no she knew. 

Thanks Megan. 

Megan was one of those people who didn't always have things go her way. Her life was a big story of the ways things didn’t go right, but how it didn’t matter, and being her friend you saw how positive energy and a real smile is all that mattered.  

"So what had happened was"

She is the poster child for smiling through adversity. If there was a spokes person for "So what had happened was" memes it would be Megan. It is why she was so good at showing you, and telling you, that you got this, just smile, we will get through it, because she showed you how. Her face told you it was going to be okay, and she was right. 

Thanks Megan. 

Megan was one of those people who lit up a room. Everyone turned to see her enter, everyone was happy to see, and everyone needed in their life. I needed her, and man I am not sure what I would have done had we not met. Not sure what I will do without her now. 

"Hey, what are you doing next Friday?" 

You'd have to ask, why... "Okay well this person I met, who knows my so and so, inviting me to this thing, and I don't really want to go, but let's go cause it will have a nice open bar and I'll go if you go with me". How could you say no to all of that, and yes she said in like 2.5 seconds. Yeah we had fun. 

Thanks Megan. 

Megan was that friend, that when you complained that as a single dad (when N was a baby) that they never have baby changing stations in the men's room. One weekend when I said I got to go change N when out with friends on a weekend that I had N... 

"I'll take her, don't worry I know what I am doing." 

She grabbed the diaper bag and went before I could talk her out of it. When she came back, explained, how only Megan could, how they didn't even have a changing station, she did it on the sink counter top, and was pissed that dad's always have to do that. She helped, with a smile, without being asked, and of course had a Megan story from it. 

Thanks Megan. 

Megan would drop everything for you. It's how we bonded early in our friendship on 9-11 (read that story). Or like how each time I visited Boston, no matter how short of notice I gave her, she made time. We had our last drink together there in late 2019. We did yoga together just over a month ago (virtually). 

"Wanna see my new Mini Cooper?" 

She knows I love cars. Last time I saw her she showed off her car.  It's who she was, to be about you, to make sure you were smiling, to make sure her friends had fun. I needed this reminder of that, as I face work stress, life challenges, and everything 2020 is throwing at us, like her being gone now... I needed this reminder that positive energy and a real smile, is what we all need. 

Thanks Megan. 

Thanks for positive energy and real smiles. Thanks for inviting me to bartend Baker parties. Thanks for awesome MGCA trips. Thanks for always making it feel like it would be okay. Thanks for all the great wedding dates and salsa dancing. Thanks for never judging me. Thanks for the ice luge and epic Memorial Day parties. Thanks for being the rare friend that would say love you. Thanks for always being 180% you. 

Thanks Megan for being a gift to all of us, for being our positive energy when we needed it, for being our smile when ours was missing. We will do our best without you, just how you would have told us to. Love you. 

Quarantine Reflection: No Ironman

This past weekend was the anniversary of my first triathlon. This summer was going to be hopefully my first Ironman 70.3. Over the winter I looked at dates, there were a few that worked and were close, and I made a training plan. I would start swim training in March/April and get my bike legs going over early summer. I got a bike trainer, I got new swim shorts, I got a pool membership. 

The triathlon this past weekend was canceled. So were the two Ironman 70.3 events I had looked at completing. I did still bid on an item in the Barron Lake Tri silent auction... nice little FleetFeet gift box on my desk and I supported a good cause. Good news. However, the Speedo I bought over Christmas break, still has the tags on it. Bad News. 

So what happened? Well we all know Covid happened. The pool I joined was closed for a while, but it opened back up. While events were canceled, I had other friends get create and still train, and still in their own way, do it. Not me, no Ironman here. I event bought Ironman branded sunglasses, maybe that was my mistake. 

So did I fail? Well you know as a motivational speaker I need to use some cheesy quote like, you only fail if you stop trying, or failure is one step towards success as long as you don't turn around, insert inspirational mount climber picture, yada yada yada. 

I didn't do it. I could of done it (I think), I just didn't. I have lots of great excuses, and they reduce my guilt, but honestly, I just lost interest in doing it. Does that make the failure feel any better? No, really makes me sad I spent money on some nice swim trunks though, but makes me glad I didn't buy that triathlon body suit though! (whew those are expensive). Should I try again next year? I did enjoy all my sunrise runs and still will be running and biking and I do need to get back into the pool. 

I am not sure even the point of this post. I guess I am just saying failure is okay. Some goals don't matter, no mater how much you cared about them, spent money on them, or whatever. So I thought, let me celebrate the shape I did get in this summer, even if I am not an Ironman, I threw my glasses on and did a killer river workout the other day and got some pictures. 

I am no Ironman, and thats okay. 

 

Quarantine Reflection: Garage Lessons

If you follow me on social media (Instagram, Twitter, Facebook) you can see that my posts have been a buzz of activity lately in the garage. Its been a few weeks now that I got my Datsun Z back from the garage and on the road and I have been driving her nearly daily and working on her a few days/nights a week. It has been a welcome break during quarantine madness.

If you know me you know that I like to teach in unorthodox ways and of course garage time with Cruz has been full of intentional, unintentional and accidental lessons. I try to capitalize on all of them and talk with him before, during or after about what happened. So let's recap a few things.

BUMPERS (write up coming to Z Blog)
The first job I had on my list was installing bumpers. The 280z came with huge heavy bumpers, and I like the slimmer 240Z look. I removed my original ones, I sourced some earlier model bumpers but never got to install them before she went off to the shop. On my first test fit the rear bumper brackets were not correct and would take significant work to get mounted. So I made the call to just work on the fronts and painted them and Cruz helped me mount them. I explained how it was frustrating, but I did't just want to drill a bunch of holes and makes a mess quickly mounting it. I would take my time, try to get the right parts, or make a custom bracket.
Lessons: Do things right the first time, no short cuts.

WHEELS
When I got the car she had a set of 14 x 6 Shelby Cal 500 wheels on her. While I love that iconic slotted mag look, and who doesn't want Shelby parts on their car... the tires on them were junk and I wanted bigger and blingyer. I scored a good deal on some 16x8 XXR wheels and with some rubber on them they made me heavier, too sticky in the wrong way, they rub in the back on bumps and corners... but man they look good! So now that she is out on parole, I needed some wheels we could compete in... so we pulled the Shelby's from storage, I got some cheap rubber installed on them to mess around on, and planned a day with then dude to get them on the car.

I got the tools out; jack, lug wrench, my big impact driver and other related tools. I taught Cruz about safety around a raised vehicle, we choked the wheels, and then we jacked her up. We removed the wheel, and put the Shelby on... and then realized, didn't have the right lugs. We looked and looked... did I lose them? Did I not get them back from the shop? Searched and searched the garage... put the wheel back on the car. We drove her to lunch and I calmed down... then I searched online, Autozone website was being weird but they were in stock. I drove to three Autozones to get enough lugs (needed 16) and went home and jacked the car back up. Well 14 of the lugs I got didn't come with washers, but I was getting these mounted... Got two wheels swapped, feeling good, onto the third and... one of then lugs wouldn't fit... wrong thread... luckily I bought 17! So I kept going. Another one bad thread... then another... and I ran out of good lugs.

I would not be stopped... I knew a couple other stores had more, so went to two more stores and got the ones I needed. However, I still need to cure my issue of missing washers... so I stopped at the Autozone near my house to order more. Six Autozones, still didn't have everything I needed but I had enough. I stayed calm, I stayed focused and didn't quit, and I got the job done.
Lessons: Don't let things out of your control, control you.

MY FINGER
Well at the beginning of all of this... I was rushing one morning to check something on the car. I ran outside and was looking in the car, and rushing back inside, I slammed my finger in the door. I literally shut the door and it latched shut, with my finger still in the door. Needless to say it hurt, I ran inside, I iceed it, Heather had to take the kids to school cause my hand was throbbing.... two days later it was still bad, so I went to the doctor. Doctor said, had I come right away they could of drained the blood from under my nail and recovery would of been ten times better.
Lessons: Don't rush, take your time or injuries happen. Don't be tough, go to the doctor.

I really enjoy working with dudeman in the garage. It reminded me of when N and I would tinker. She was about this age when Cruz was being born, and I got winter wheels for the Jetta and she helped me put them on. I taught her the steps to changing a tire. I enjoy doing this stuff, being busy and working with my kids on it. I am glad they enjoy it as well and that they also learn something.

Memories...