Having my mother tell me that she would not be going with us really broke my heart.

Having my mother tell me that she would not be going with us really broke my heart. It just seemed too insane. How could I manage to leave without her? I just did not understand. I tried to not let it bother me too much because I felt lucky for being offered an experience of a lifetime. I was going to learn the art of surfing.

Being sixteen years old, I was confident, fearless and open to try anything and everything. I felt invincible, as if I could do anything that I could imagine. I believed that I could indefinitely. For one thing, I had learned how to skateboard. When I was first introduced to skateboarding by a friend, Aric Escoto, it was not extremely popular. I was thought to have been breaking barriers and stereotypes. It was not my intention to draw attention. Skateboarding appealed to me because it seemed to be an intimate sport that I would be able to share with just my friends. It appeared to be just the testing of the resilience of a piece of wood with cylindrical objects attached. It was also viewed as a waste of time. Eventually, skateboarding did become a major part of my life. Skateboarding was more than just a hobby to me; it was my inspiration to apply myself at what I did. It was my inspiration, passion, and refuge from an all too ordinary world. In the beginning, it did not seem to be an obvious point of inspiration. It was not until my darkest days that I realized it was. If I could not land a trick, I forced myself to try again. I became passionate about it. If I did not care, I would not be persistent. Most importantly, it was my refuge. It was my escape from reality. Skateboarding was something that kept me occupied, but enabled me to free my mind. I wanted to mold all of my activities to become exact replicas of what skateboarding is to me.

My instructor would be my mother’s co-worker, Franz Castillo. My mother’s account of Franz was intimidating. She had depicted Franz as a young, fresh woman that reminded her of me. Franz had graduated from U.C. L.A. and majored in Linguistics. It really impressed me because she attended a competitive university. Her extensive academic profile made me feel like a loser. However, I had forgotten for a second that I was still in high school. It was unbelievable because I would be surfing with a woman who has been highly educated. I did not know how to present myself.

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