"Fabi-Babi"

Joan Fabian is an artist. She’s not an artist just because she paints or constructs sculptures, but because she’s passionate about everything she does. We are all artists whether we paint, sing, dance, take pictures, or just stand there and speak our minds. Joan is truly passionate about life and where she lives and what she’s doing. Joan taught in Pakistan for six months and saw a different way of art because people thought differently. She saw what they saw and learned to think differently to see things in another light. She told us a story of an old man and a child. Joan was driving through Pakistan when she thought she saw and old man sitting on the street with his grandson, or a young boy. She felt for them because she could tell just at a glance that they were tired and not very well off. As she drove by a second time she was looking for them so that she could really get a chance to see who they were because she felt such a connection with them just at a glance. As she looked for an elderly man and a young boy she noticed that it was not humans at all, but that it was two animals sitting on the side of the road that looked as if they had worked all day. By listening to all that Joan had to say, I completely felt more spiritually connected with who I was and my purpose. Joan Fabian isn’t just an artist, but a human full of artistic ability.

"Welcome to the Police Academy"...."You Now Have the Right to Remain Silent!"

In San Antonio there are a plethora of jobs that can be obtained by “on the job” training. One of those is becoming a police officer. In San Antonio we have the San Antonio Police Training Academy which trains cadets on how to become the best police officers, learn the laws and how to keep the community involved, and how to enforce those laws. Known to many as the “police academy”, this facility was built in 1987 and was completely finished in 1988. The training academy is located at 12200 SE Loop 410 between Morsund and Roosevelt on a One hundred-sixty five acre site. According to the training academy’s website seventy acres of the land is still undeveloped, but is designated for a wildlife sanctuary to be later constructed. The maintained acres of the academy are currently being used for the Academy’s main building that is approximately 54,000 square feet which consists of classrooms, offices, library, computer center, video center, restrooms, and a cafeteria. Other parts of the maintained ninety five acres are a driving track, tactical village for physical job training, a physical fitness area which includes a gym, a swimming pool, a weight room, and a boxing arena. The final part of the up kept acres is a shooting range which is approximately 27,000 square feet that consist of a large classroom, offices, an armory room, and six covered firing ranges with electronic and mechanical target control.
The staff of the San Antonio Police Training Academy is the backbone of the training. All of the staff members are formally or currently in law enforcement and have been through the training themselves at one point in their career. Head of all the professional staff is Captain Larry Birney who leads the staff instructors which include detectives, patrol officers, instructors from local college facilities, local and state police agencies, and many from specialized units of SAPD, or San Antonio Police Department. My father is an instructor at this facility and has been for over 14 years. He teaches many different components that are required for the cadets to become certified. Most of what he teaches consists of search and seizure, use of force, and scenarios which are realistic examples of what might happen when the cadets become police officers. When I interviewed my father, Assistant Chief of Police for Pleasanton Police Department John Eric Rutherford, I learned some very new tings about the academy. “We as a whole make sure that our cadets engulf every bit of what we teach them, because if they don’t learn then we’re not teaching”, stated Rutherford. When asked about how close the instructors become with their cadets the answer was “we become a family; a family of brothers and sisters who take an oath to be there for each other through anything physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’ve seen my kids (cadets) shed many tears through frustration, pain, and sorrow. That’s what it takes to be a good instructor, the understanding of your cadets inside and out. They’re not just a name to be called, they’re a person to be understood and respected.” Although Rutherford instructs most hands-on classes, he added in his interview that ninety percent of police work is paperwork. “Police training may sound like fun because it’s like a grown up way of playing cops and robbers or cowboys and Indians, but it’s more mentally intense than it is physically. These guys (and girls) go through grueling hours of filing paperwork, learning the art of writing reports and taking statements from witnesses; it’s not easy, and it’s not meant to be. We want them to be ready.”
Many “rookie” officers find it easy to make the transition from civilian to officer after going through the training at the academy. Probationary police officer Gregory Contreras revealed to me what he had to go through in the academy six months ago. “I was a marine before I joined the academy, and lucky for me I was in shape and had an idea of what was possible to happen. The process was exhausting, but with the help of all my instructors and fellow cadets, I made it through the classes and physical testing that needed to be completed. If I hadn’t gone through the training at the facility, I would never have been ready for my career as an officer.” “Before I was accepted into the academy I had to apply and then take and place high on the Civil Service Exam and was chosen as a select few to attend the training academy. Each cadet must complete around 560 hours, or six months of the training to be considered for graduation.” Officer Contreras is now being considered to help teach a class at the San Antonio Police Training Academy next spring after his probation period is completed with SAPD.
At the San Antonio Police Training Academy, all cadets must come to class in uniform and, although they are not yet police officers, they must carry a “fake” gun which is painted blue to tell the difference between a real and fake gun. The gun actually weighs what a real gun does so that they get the full effect.
As a child I was able to experience many things that happened at the police academy. On a daily basis the cadets must perform a plethora of physical and mental activities to keep them in their prime shape. At the beginning of the day they must run a 2 mile course together as a unit and must not walk, nor leave anyone behind. They must complete this 2 mile course in 20 minutes. After the run the cadets go to class, depending on which level they are in, and are in class until lunch time. After lunch time there is a 1-2 hour free space in which most cadets either study or catch up on their physical fitness. After their free time, the cadets come back for more class. At the end of the day the cadets jog for a mile and a half in 16 minutes. After the final jog the class comes together with their instuctor and have a closing lecture.
My purpose for researching the police academy and reason for choosing this topic is because I will be attending the academy when I graduate from college in the Fall of 2009. I have researched this academy many times and my knowledge for it is well researched and I have asked many questions to provide the truth. I plan to go through the training to become a police officer so that one day I will be able to fulfill my dream of becoming a Homicide Detective for SAPD. The police academy’s training website was very helpful, along with Asst. Chief Rutherford and Officer Contreras and their interviews. Just because they carry a gun and a badge doesn’t mean that they are any less human than the next, so take a minute to thank our armed forces of San Antonio because they’re all working to protect us.

Word Count 1,172

I Heard the Passion Through the Fingertips....

Some children may have grown up watching television, but I was a child who was taught to listen to music. Music was everywhere for me, such as oldies, big band, tejano, conjunto, country, rock and roll, it was all so marvelous. Music is a form of art for me, and a way to escape from reality and let my mind wonder into all creativity. When I saw the video Ms. Ornelas placed on reserve in the library for her students, I was embracing the beauty of art, although it was music not something that hung on a wall with no movement. While watching the video I was aware of two different methods of art that were present; seeing the musicians play, and hearing them. Valerio Longoria is known as the Jimmy Hendrix of the accordion. The way the musicians like Lydia Mendoza, who is considered the “Queen” of tejano, Isidro Lopez, and many others played it was obvious that these musicians felt a spiritual connection with their body and just physically released it through the movement in their music and playing and voices. Growing up in a small town a little south of San Antonio, I have come across many local tejano and conjunto bands and musicians. The passion that these musicians show is exuberating and most definitely contagious. When I see them and hear them play I feel the want and desire to join in whether it be to tap my foot, clap my hands, sing, or move my body to the beat. Conjunto music is a mixture of so many different cultures and is one type of music where you hear all the influences in the music. This gives it a very defined and unique sound. So next time I hear the conjunto version of “Louie Louie”, or “Oye Como Va”, I’ll listen a little closer and know the passion that escapes through the fingertips of the musicians into every note.

Word Count- 323

Little Big Town

Being from a small town, there’s not a whole lot to be admired. There are houses, a few bars, an HEB, a Super Wal-Mart, some drive-thrus, and a movie theatre. Pleasanton, Texas is where I reside and where I grew up. I’ve lived in the same house my whole life. My parents bought our house right before I was born. Like everywhere, there’s a north, east, south, and west side to our town whose population was last recorded at 8,226 people, but has grown to over 9,000. I live on the northwest side of Pleasanton on 1012 Maia Dr. Our high school is literally 30 seconds from my backyard.
Being from a small town it’s quite easy and quick to get to almost anywhere in town. From one side of town to the other it takes a maximum of 10 minutes including time spent at lights and stop signs. Some major highways that run through Pleasanton include highway 97 which goes into Floresville, highway 281 which leads into San Antonio, highway 37N and 37S which lead to San Antonio and to Corpus Christi. Although a small town we are still considered a 4A school. All of the town’s schools are located in the same vicinity being at most 2 miles apart from one another.
Like most towns we have a police department made up of about 20 officials. Fortunately, I am privileged to share my neighborhood with at least 5 of them, one living on every street in my immediate neighborhood; my father being one of them. The socio-economic status seems to be between working middle class and middle class in my neighborhood depending on how long the residences have resided there. There is also a great deal of elderly people living on my street. Growing up I was surrounded by elderly couple on three sides. There are also a great deal of families in the neighborhood, young families with young children, and families with children of my age. While growing up in a predominantly Caucasian neighborhood, as I got older more of the new families moving in were of Hispanic descent. There are now a diverse variety of ethnicities such as Caucasians, Hispanics, African Americans, and those of Asian descent. The bigger the town gets, the more diverse it seems to get. Across the road from the high school is a cemetery that has been here for at least 21 years; as long as I’ve lived in town.
Although it seems that Pleasanton has many things that a city has, Pleasanton only has a community college, which is slowly becoming hard to keep staffed. Attending Palo Alto College isn’t the closest place to attend college, but it’s only about a 45 minute drive from my house. Palo Alto gives many in the south San Antonio area and all the small surrounding towns a close place to attend for an education. My best friend and I carpool and take turns driving each week to save gas, money, and the environment.
In Pleasanton in the early 90’s there was a major problem with gangs, but by the mid 90’s to late 90’s those gangs had either segregated, moved, or just died out. After I graduated from high school gangs were starting to become popular again and formed just as fast as they departed. New gangs have formed with new leaders, and new enemies. These gangs aren’t as big a threat as the ones prior to them were. These new gangs are simply juveniles who are trying to be adults with an attitude. None of these kids seem to cause any real trouble or danger to themselves or others.
As earlier stated, there isn’t much to do in a small town, but there is a movie theater, friends’ houses, little café’s, and restaurants and bars where my friends and I usually hang out at. Most of my time is spent in San Antonio at school or just enjoying the many things to do in the great city. After living in a city after moving away from home for a couple of years, I’ve learned that you can have the city life and the town life, you just have to know how to separate the two and not expect the same from both. San Antonio is very fast-paced and Pleasanton is not. Everything is pretty low-key in Pleasanton, and I like it this way because if I want all the hustle and bustle of the city life I know San Antonio is just a hop, skip, and jump away.

Word Count 756

And the Oscar Goes to......The Alamo!

After viewing an older film of “The Alamo” with John Wayne and a more recent version of “The Alamo” with Billy Bob Thornton, I noticed some major differences in the movies and also some colliding information with the correct history that factually occurred. Although no movie portrays 100% fact, I felt that John Wayne’s version was more of an opinionated depict of what happened at the Alamo, and Billy Bob’s was more of a historical movie, although not quite a documentary.
John Wayne may well have meant to give an audience a love story included with historical information about the Alamo, but for someone who has a bit of knowledge of what took place at the battle I felt partly offended by how the heroes were portrayed, or not even mentioned at all. In the motion picture Tejanos were never mentioned as a part of the battle, they were only referred to as poor, underclass and underappreciated civilians. Of course all the major names that everyone who’s heard of the Alamo knows were mentioned like Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, Stephen Austin, Sam Houston, Santa Anna; but names like Navarro and Sequin were only mentioned to give a name to the wrongfully portrayed Tejanos in the film. Another wrong doing on John Wayne’s part was that the Alamo was never secluded in factual history. The bar scene was good for entertainment in the movie, but never has history shown that Crockett, along with his men, rode to San Antonio to a bar to have a few drinks. By watching this movie, I have come to realize that John Wayne was more focused on making an entertaining film than really showing a historical film.
In Billy Bob Thornton’s version of “The Alamo” there was much more historical facts shown although not always politically correct, this was the closest to what really happened at the Alamo. Even though this edition was seen through a diary which could possibly have been where some information was found, but very doubtful, the characters were depicted very close to what history tells us. Before watching these films, Ms. Ornelas explained that many historians were on site for this film to help directors and producers get a better accurate sense of what happened at the battle of the Alamo. Although Thornton was also interested in making a movie that would entertain many, I believe that his sole purpose was to educate and get the facts out there for people to see. Tejanos were represented much better in this film than in John Wayne’s version. Although Wayne’s was more entertaining and humorous at times, Thornton’s edition was more eye-catching because it was the more accurate version.
As many people believe that Anglos were the solitary heroes, and population at the battle of the Alamo, Tejanos and Mexicans were as big a part as the Anglos. Most historians that spread their knowledge to others give a very biased opinion of what happened and who the heroes were. We all agree that Santa Anna was a dictator who seemed inhumane at times, but Navarro and Seguin, along with many others, were brave, passionate men who deserve to acknowledged for the heroic events they took part in. Movies will always portray an entertaining scene or two, so books will always be our best resource, aside from people, for an education on the Alamo. The entertainment companies may announce that the Oscar goes to John Wayne or Billy Bob Thornton for their roles in “The Alamo”, but the real Oscar goes to ALL the heroes of the REAL Alamo.

Word Count-596

I Remember....Do You?

Anyone who has never been to San Antonio can at least associate the city with the famous Alamo. Although many things portrayed in history about the Alamo are true, there are a plethora of things that are skipped over or left out completely. It’s unfortunate, but inevitable, that in history you only hear one side of a story, and that’s the winner’s side. Founded in 1718 the Alamo still has very sentimental meaning and is carried out everyday as historians tell about the legacy of the famous building. Even though many men like Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, and Stephen F. Austin were very heroic men, no one knows much about the heroic men that fought for the opposing side.
One man, Santa Anna, was not among the heroic, but a very well known man. Santa Anna was a dictator and a very powerful man. In 1824 he suspended the Constitution so no one had any rights. Some may say that Santa Anna did have a humane side due to the fact that he let all women and children go before battling at the Alamo. While many men fought for both sides 187 men lost their lives defending what they felt was right, Santa Anna told his troops to take no prisoners.
As I strolled along the streets of downtown San Antonio, I retraced the same steps that many people had in search to know more about my history. The Alamo isn’t just a place where men fought, died, and honored their beliefs, but the Alamo, to me, is the heart of San Antonio and because my ancestors and history lies in it, I know I’ll always “remember the Alamo”.
Word Count-279

....because of their singing praises, I believe.

Old, young, tall, short. People from next door and people from across the world walked the same steps I did into the glorious ancestor trailed church. As I strolled into the average sized church I couldn't help but look straight up. I usually get the same feeling when entering the house of the Lord, but this time i felt touched. Touched by the spirits of the indigenous, touched by the atmosphere of the church, and touched by the beauty that cascades from top to bottom.
Arriving early was a must, according to those who have attended regularly, but even a spot standing in the back of the room is as much sought after as the first row seats. I sat next to an elder Hispanic woman and her daughter who attend the service weekly. As the father asked the congregation about locals and vacationers I was appauled at the plethora of tourists. After gazing at the non-locals I tried to imagine where they were from and if they had ever experienced something as memorable as I was at the very moment. Coming from a family who has changed religions and churches more than five times in my life, this mass was constantly reassuring my belief in Catholicism.
It wasn't hard for me to find the way to San Jose, and it was hard for me to pray in church, but I was very fearful about going in alone. I then realized that I wasn't alone, I was with my family, my ancestors, my neighbors, and the Lord.
The service wasn't boring or dragged out like I had witnessed before, but rather lively. The mariachis really added life to the hundreds of years old church by pouring their hearts and souls into the sound of their music. I stared unaware at the young woman whose voice of an angel called out to me like a strangers hand reaching across the dinner table for prayer. Looking to my left, I could see a tear fall from the eye of the elderly Hispanic woman as she engulfed the sentimental language of the song, as if she were singing it herself. Without explanation I couldn't help but shed a few tears myself as many of the congregation clapped their hands and sang along, those who knew the words.
One aspect I was so ecstatic to learn about was that the service was in English and Spanish. Being a minor in Spanish, I could incorporate my knowledge into the church service. The bi-lingual gospel was such a beautiful experience. Even though not everyone understood English or Spanish, the language barrier wasn't enough to keep them from praising and witnessing the beauty of the mass.
As we filed out one by one the mariachis sang what seemed to be no ordinary hymn, but a praise to all. I hadn't been to church in over six months, but this experience not only changed my mind about committing to attending church regularly, but also enhanced my faith even more than before.

Every Brick Tells a Story...

I couldn’t help but hide the fact that I’d never visited any of the Missions in San Antonio. Although embarrassed, the enthusiasm and anticipation of what was to come engulfed me as my best friend, Kristin, and I parked at Mission Francisco de Espada. While gathering in the courtyard with classmates, I couldn’t escape that my ancestors walked this very ground that I stood upon. Our tour guide, Park Ranger Dora V. Martinez, enlightened us of a brief history before we started on our journey back in time to get a feel of what it was like living at Mission Espada.
Mission Espada was first established in Mississippi in 1690. It was later moved to what is now known as Austin in 1720 and in 1731 arrived at its third and final residence of present day San Antonio, Texas. Although we say the mission was moved, the buildings were never lifted and carried from one site to another; the only things that moved were people and documents, such as birth certificates, death certificates, etc. While strolling along the courtyard perimeters it was evident that Mission Espada was not just a home for Spaniards and Native Americans, but also a battleground and protection facility for many. My classmates and I discovered many holes in the walls that seemed to have been put there purposely. These holes were where many of the men rested their firearms in an attempt to shield their land and family against the Apaches and Comanche tribes. The gunshots only reached a mere fifteen feet, so the soldiers had to literally wait until they could see the “whites of their eyes” in order to know they had a clear enough shot.
Many are falsely led to believe that the churches of these missions are the sole purpose for their existence. Although the first church of Mission Espada was not strong enough to stay standing, the second one was. The church is still an active house of worship. The church doors have a mysterious story, maybe because no one is certain if it is true or not. A mason who designed the archway of the outside outline of the church doors fled/ran away one night. Later, research leads us to find that a mason fled because he killed a man over a woman and didn’t want to be hung for his crime. All the archway pieces were pre-cut, but because of job security, on the mason knew where each piece went. Since no other person could figure out the puzzle, the archway of the church ended up being narrower than expected.
Our last stop was the courtyard. We ended where we had started, and this was what touched me most of all. As I listened to Ranger Martinez, her voice became more of a narrative voice as I vision men and boys weaving clothing, and women farming the crops. Being in ninety-degree heat I pictured men’s blistered backs because there weren’t enough trees to block the sun from hitting them as hard as they dug the asequia.
There may only be brick and rock, and a few building left standing, but to me this mission is still very much alive. The spirits that still roam the soil touch every bit of beauty that this mission has left. I felt my ancestors there, and could see the great things that they started. I have yet to see all the missions, but tomorrow is never too late.