Maria
by Leticia Comparán

Maria, the oldest girl in my family, was my role model. She painted a picture of education that included hard work and sometimes fun. I remember observing Maria when I was twelve and noticing that she grew her nails long and covered them with clear nail polish. She had black, curly hair, which she straightened every morning. She usually wore jeans, and the color of her blouse always matched her earrings and shoes. I always wanted to be next to her, because she spoke clearly and she used big words. She attended Phoenix College, where she was studying to be a court reporter.

Sometimes Maria would ask my sisters and me, "Hey, you want to help me with my dictations?" We would usually argue about which of us would help. Olivia usually got to help because she was the most patient. Sometimes my brother Omar would say, "No fair, Olivia, you get lots of turns." Because we argued so much, Maria would try to make sure we took turns reading the manuscript to her.

During the summer, my siblings and I played "court reporter." Olivia was the court reporter and used Maria’s stenotype machine. Elda was the lawyer, I was the victim, and Omar would make sounds and noises as Elda described a scene to the imaginary jury. When we weren’t playing court reporter, we played "secretary." We took turns being the secretary, filing papers and answering phones, the tasks we thought secretaries did. The secretary’s office was usually in the corner of the living room that held a small, brown oak coffee table with a black, rotary phone. Maria did not appreciate us playing with her machine. She always said to us, "This cost two hundred dollars. Do you have money to pay for it if it breaks?" We never stopped playing with it, and fortunately it never broke.

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