Unbreakable: My Story, My Way Read Online Free Page A

mother as I did from my father; her lessons, however, were very different. My mother, Doña Rosa, or Chamela, as I would call her to get her attention (it still pisses her off and I love it!), wasn’t too fond of my accompanying my father to his singing classes when I was ten and eleven years old. She would rather I be studying in my room and playing with other little girls in the neighborhood. But I had no interest in playing with Barbies. I much preferred sitting in on my father’s singing lessons with La Maestra Franco in Echo Park—or at the many singing competitions around Los Angeles. This did not sit well with my mother, especially because many of the competitions took place in bars. She thought I was wasting precious time. She wanted me to do something with my brain. She knew her daughter had the smarts to be a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, anything that would give me a certificate or a degree. That was her idea of making it in life and in the United States. She knew my straight A’s and being on the honor roll would take me somewhere.
    My parents got into quite a few arguments over this. Of course my daddy wanted me to be recognized as an outstanding student, but he would always remind my mother that I had a talent for singing. “My daughter can one day be like Lucha Villa, Lupita D’Alessio, Rocío Dúrcal, and all the rest of those cantantes ,” he would say. “ I am sure that is what her future will be. She has it in her blood, Rosa Amelia. You always talk about how you want her to be an academic scholar, but it’s you who sets her in the middle of guests at family parties to sing and dance for everyone. I will be happy with whatever my reina turns out to be, but stop trying to fight her talent. Nobody can. Tiene demasiados huevos como para ser algo normal en esta vida. God gave her and all the rest of my kids a talent for a reason. Singing is her destiny. One day you will remember my words. You’ll see.”
    My mother would give him a “whatever” look to end the discussion, but when she and I were in the kitchen cooking or washing dishes, she would impart her teachings. “Whatever you do, mija , do your best. Be different from everyone. Stand out. Asegúrate de dejar ‘huella’ donde quiera que vayas. You’re my first girl. Please try to make me happy and become something. I know your father wants you to be a famous and successful artist, but it’s a very difficult career, especially for women. I hear all the stories that go on in that dirty industry. ¡Son puras cochinadas! You’re better off being a psychologist like we’ve talked about before.”
    I desperately wanted my mother to be proud of me. I loved bringing her my report cards and outstanding-student awards, but I also wanted to make my father proud. Both of their voices were constantly ringing in my head:
    “God gave you a talent for a reason.”
    “Be different from everyone. Stand out.”
    “Please try to make me happy and become something.”
    “Singing is your destiny. One day you will remember my words.”
    “Whatever you do, mija , do your best.”

Taking the Stage
Por eso desde hoy mismo te digo
Que sigas tu camino.
( That’s why from this very day,
I tell you, follow your way. )
—from “Besos y Copas”
    I was eleven years old. My father and I were sitting at La Tormenta Nightclub in Los Angeles for yet another singing competition. Humberto Luna, the most famous Latin disc jockey at the time, was the master of ceremonies. I was the only child among twelve contestants, including my father, trying to win first place that night. When it was my turn, I walked up to the stage, which was actually the dance floor, and the mariachi was ready to play my song “Besos y Copas.” It had been one of Chayito Valdez’s greatest hits, and ironically, my mother taught it to me. I had been deciding between that song and Chelo’s track “Mejor Me Voy,” which was one of my favorites.
    But for some reason, I went with “Besos y