The Build
It’s been a while since I last sat down to put my thoughts “pen to paper”; in the digital age, it’s more like fingers to the keyboard, and here’s what’s been percolating…
I still feel seventeen inside, that sweet age for girls as they embark on the journey of womanhood. I’ll never forget this one moment in particular; it was my senior year, and I was out on the dance floor at my senior year cotillion, and as “Dancing Queen” played, I remember thinking to myself, “I can’t wait to make it all happen! I can’t wait to leave my hometown and conquer the world! I’m over boring”. I didn’t exactly have a plan, per se. I just knew I was going away to college, and yet still close to home, so I could visit. But the beauty of the unknown, where anything could happen, excited me.
The economy entered a recession at the start of 2008; there I was, again, without a job and no plan. Thus, my career in the corporate world began with a string of frontline retail sales jobs, and I was not happy. This is not what I set out to do. I set out to be a PR (Public Relations) baddie, but no one would hire me, even with two internships under my belt. It was the summer of 2009; I was working for a major telecommunications company then, when I decided to go back to school for my Master’s degree. I thought, why not organizational development? That’s close to public relations; I could help companies plan for the future or their marketing campaigns. I didn’t know then that social media would become the new norm or that my PR degree would soon become obsolete. Still, as I graduated in 2011 with my Master’s, there were no jobs; back to Corporate I went. This time, for a major financial institution. What could go wrong? Surely, they’ll see my work ethic and my brains; that’s enough to promote me, right? No, wrong again. The institution didn’t care about people; it only cared about numbers and getting them at any cost. Isn’t capitalism grand? How can I fix this? It’s wrong; no one deserves this type of inhumane treatment. I also remember feeling stagnant, that whole lather, wash, rinse & repeat routine of the corporate world, so I went back to school. This time, I thought it had to be a law or a PhD program. Do I want to study for the LSAT? Would I be happy as a lawyer? I could fight for justice, sure, but would I be happy? I thought, “At least if I got my PhD, I could always teach, maybe become a CEO one day”. It was 2012; I had just started my PhD when I got held up at gunpoint at work. Yes, just like you see in the movies. I wasn’t tied up, but my life was literally on the line. I remember thinking, if this is how it all ends, “I have to see my mom and boyfriend (at the time) again”. Lord Jesus, this cannot be the end. My company expected me back at work on Monday. That is not normal, nor is it healthy. My District Manager at the time said, “Well, it’s retail banking; you kind of sign up for it.” I said, “Excuse me, this is not the military, and I am not willing to die for a bank.” I ended up going to therapy and, months later, resigning from that bank.
Next came several survival gigs that got me through my PhD program, and somewhere along the way, acting found me again. I was nearing completion of my program despite wanting to quit so many times because the pressure at that level was truly intense. I remember thinking, “I’m about to be 30, and this is it? Have I peaked now that I hit most of my goals? This can’t be it. What have I always wanted to do that I never got to?” Then it hit me. “I’ve always wanted to be an actor; it’s the only time I remember being free.” I grew tired of the same old routine living in Texas. I remember feeling extremely stifled, and I yearned for something more. Besides, God forbid a Latina express herself, for she is surely the problem. I’ll refrain and leave my rebuttal for later. However, Virgos never really get enough credit for the things we manage not to say. I didn’t know it then, but my soul was longing to be free and to express itself.
As I drew closer to completion naturally, the pressure to finish intensified even more. I failed my first two dissertation defenses, and I didn’t think I had anything left in me to try again. I remember calling my mom, “Mom, I’m quitting. I can’t do this. I don’t care if I don’t graduate,” to which she said, “Sarita, graduation is in two weeks. I’ll be damned if you get this far and don't finish. You’re going to get back in there, give it your all, and you’re going to pass.” “Mom, but how do you know? What if they still don’t think I’m good enough? What if I wasn’t meant to be a Doctor? I just want to make life better for people.” This was the call that took place literally as I was driving in the pouring rain on my way to my final defense. Yes, I shouldn’t have been talking on the phone & driving (I was hands-free, though), but thank God for Moms, am I right? Especially Mexican moms, it’s like I have my own personal drill sergeant.
I was thankfully already teaching at the collegiate level when I finished my PhD; I’ll never forget having dreams about New York. They were so vivid. I remember saying to one of my colleagues- I’m proud to call her one of my OGs, as we became Doctors together- when I said, “I think I need to take a trip to New York. I want to go back; I didn’t get enough time there the first time.” I’ll always be grateful to her for encouraging me to come here. It was the fall of 2017, and just two days in, I was hooked. I felt the thing I needed to feel, the inspiration, that loud rush of excitement you cannot contain when you don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, but you can’t wait to take the plunge. The plunge of blissfully diving into the unknown. It’s getting harder to do as I get older, but I need to do it more often. I digress…
Fast forward to the summer of 2018: after the aforementioned trip to the city, I researched acting programs because class back in Houston wasn’t enough. I wanted to understand the technique; I wanted to understand how to let my instrument (body) breathe, feel, cry, laugh, and most of all play. Applying to Stella Adler was easy. I then had my interview over the phone, and before I knew it, I got in and started planning for the trip. Bought my round-trip plane ticket, put all my stuff into storage, packed it all up, & landed here. I didn’t know it then, but that ticket was really a one-way ticket & the rest is perhaps history; but that’s when it hit me: history is still being written.
In the interest of what’s going on now, as messy as it is, I still believe in the power to change it. I still believe in the beauty of humanity. I was chatting with a friend recently when I said to them, “How wonderful it is that we still get to live this life, both the good and the bad, and while we don’t willfully invite the challenges in, we learn to embrace them. What a gift! What a gift it is to course correct, go inward, and come up higher”. I myself struggle to see that something is being built, or rather cultivated in the process. I am brought to tears when I think about this dear, sweet, precious boy who was perhaps murdered, and yet the justice system claims he drowned. The autopsy report found there was no water in his lungs. I’m gutted when I think about what’s happening to mi gente who disappeared, and it’s even more shameful that it’s not the first time it’s happened. The government still has not reported or accounted for the lives that have gone missing at Aligator Alcatraz. I wrestle with survivor’s guilt as I am allowed to continue and live my life, and they weren’t. What was their crime? NOTHING. They were human; how ugly & inhumane some of us are that we decide who gets to live and who dies. You are not God, the universe, or any other divine being.
Their lives will not be lost in vain. Not if I have a say in it. God/the universe is funny. It seems I was born talking. If you ask my mom, she’ll tell you I started talking before the age of 2, maybe shortly after. Growing up, I was always in trouble for talking in class. I mean, my principal and I were on a first-name basis. I used to think being me- Latina, and such, with a tendency to tell it like it is- was a curse. New York has taught me that it’s my gift; it’s my calling. I’ve always known that, but at some point, it was suppressed. Isn’t the world grand? Still, despite it all, I wouldn’t change a thing. I know why I’m here, and thank God/the universe that it’s never steered me wrong. I do have free will, but I’m grateful that my internal GPS reroutes me to stay the course. As I look back on my life, every little thing was leading me somewhere else all along, even if I couldn’t see it. The robbery that got me into therapy was the catalyst for my healing journey. My PhD program forced me to confront myself. I mean, how can any leader (ahem) lead others if they can’t lead themselves? I’ll never understand how the worst of us have come into power. I get it, but that is absolutely no reason to cause the suffering of many. It seems we have not learned anything from history. Well, the better ones of us have; the ones critical enough to call out the BS have.
I’m blessed to do this work. I’m blessed to be an artist. I’m grateful for my loving and supportive Mama. I’m grateful for my close circle of friends who seem heaven-sent, who save me, or catch me when I fall and carry me until I can stand on my own two feet again. It is because of them that I know how loved I am. Life, it’s nothing short of easy, and we don’t talk about its duality. We’re not automatically taught to hold the joy and the pain. The good, the bad, and everything else in between. Throw in traumatizing life events, bullying, hatred, or other things I’d describe as evil is enough to drive anyone toward darkness. I know, I’ve been there. There were times when I thought I’d never live to see a brighter day. As I’ve learned over the years, the load never gets lighter; rather, the way we carry it does. If we’re lucky enough to find those precious folks to help us carry it, well, that’s just the icing on the cake.
If there’s anything I’ve learned from laundry, something so mundane, or from running. Substitute any other metaphor you’d like, and even now, with the world’s woes, we have the power to adjust the setting, the pacing, or the sails. No one can tell us how; it’s something that only life, and the gift of time, can teach us, one day at a time.
I will say this about getting older: Sarita has had to learn things the hard way. It’s only now that I know that it was also me who made it hard; I’m just grateful that I’ve had the courage to confront my patterns and cut ties with who I used to be. I loved her, and she got me here, but I’m ready for the next version. The leading lady of my own life, free, wild, untamed, and completely unbothered by life’s bullshit. I am loving my 40s! The amount of comfort I feel in my own skin, my body, and soul. I never knew then that all the things I had been through were slowly building me. I still feel 17 inside, and ready for what comes next!
What a gift to be able to chase my dreams. I think even if I wanted to give up on them, they’d still keep calling me. Calling me home, calling me to create, and to feel. And hey, I still became a CEO. CEO of my very own production company, thank YOU very much (hair flip)! “What? Like it’s hard?” Y’all, I can’t wait for this next film. I’m proud of the work my team and I are doing, and mostly I’m proud to dedicate it to mi gente y communidad Latino.
I don’t know who these words are for, but they came from the divine/God/the Universe to live through me. I know this will sound like a cliché, but TRUST your own journey. It is uniquely yours to embrace and create the life you can’t stop dreaming about. I’d like to believe that if I told my younger self this, I’d believe future me, but when I was young, I did think I knew it all. The older I get, the less I know, but I am learning to trust God/the divine/the universe even more. This higher power has also loved me enough to course-correct, and I love me so much that anything less than love, well, it’s just not worth it.
Love and light,
Dr. Ceballos
