Sigma Tau Delta was thrilled to offer a dynamic Writing Challenge to all active student, alumni, and faculty members in honor of Hispanic Heritage Month during the Fall Awards Cycle.
Our Hispanic Heritage Month Writing Challenge draws inspiration from Angie Cruz’s most recent novel How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water (2022). Cruz’s storytelling challenges dominant narratives by foregrounding the voices of those often unheard, making her a vital literary figure in the Latine community. Through her fiction, editorial leadership, and teaching, Cruz not only reflects the complexity of Latine identity but also creates space for future generations to see themselves in literature and to share their own stories. Sigma Tau Deltans were encouraged to let their voices be heard through poetry and prose, honoring the spirit of creativity and cultural expression. Together, we’re shaping a narrative that echoes the vibrancy and resilience of Hispanic communities and cultural identities across the nation and beyond.
Kaci Mack from Southern New Hampshire University and Vanessa Reyes from the University of North Georgia, Gainesville impressed the judges with their thought-provoking submissions to this year’s Hispanic Heritage Month Writing Challenge.
The Woman of Rivers
by Kaci Mack
I recall the scent of rain on the pavement when I was a kid, the way it collected in the concrete crevices like miniature reflectors illuminating an unapproachable sky. According to my mother-in-law, we all have rivers deep within us that we created, and occasionally we allow water to go out too swiftly and carelessly, almost drowning. At the time, I didn’t comprehend. I had assumed that rivers were something which we might travel across, steer clear of, pass by. However, I started to sense it within her gentle intelligence: water moving within her, rumbling, forming the existence that she had created and the family she raised, bearing the imprint of Cuba, where she had been born and raised until she was six years old.
Our nights were packed with her tales of her childhood home, dancing, fruit trees, and happiness that was stronger than sadness. Every narrative was a strand, woven with love, resiliency, and diligence, into the fabric of our household. To create a life that was separate from me but never disconnected from the hands of those who walked before me, I held on to their strands and woven them together into what was mine. I discovered how to pay attention to the sounds of movements throughout her kitchen, the aroma of rice and beans boiling for long periods, the peaceful sound of Spanish words rolling over on my lips, and the peace that surrounded me.
I witnessed a woman who lifted the water full, constantly striking a balance between duties, devotion, and culture while life delivered unexpected downpours. Her fortitude was respected by her relatives and neighbors, but I could see the work that went into every smile and the delicate balancing of two opposing realities. Acceptance, pristine appearance, and stillness were required in one society; acknowledgment, ancestral roots, and standing up—even if it made her words tremble—were required in another. Nevertheless, I could see how she discovered equilibrium in her laughing, the cadence her meals, and the unanticipated generosity she showed to complete strangers. The water never abandoned her; it evolved into her friend, her mentor, and a constant reminder that individuality and preservation are inextricably linked.
I see her intelligence now. If we disregard the rivers that are part of us, they have the power to submerge us, but additionally they support, mold, and link us to a resilient family. She showed me how to swim, float, and face the currents head-on. I represent not only for myself when I tell our tale or talk about the water she held onto, but also for every single voice she conveyed and along with the voices that will come up in the future.
Explanatory Paragraph
How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water by Angie Cruz, which examines individuality, tradition, and resiliency in Latinx societies, served as the inspiration for this work. To examine related topics of passing down tradition through the generations, I took inspiration from my mother-in-law’s story, who had been born and raised in Cuba until she was six years old and then had to adjust to the American life in a new nation. Cruz’s emphasis on familial bonds, memories, and the power of frequently overlooked voices is echoed by her use of water, which represents both the difficulties and fuel of her journey. In welcoming Cruz’s embrace of personal identity and traditional narratives, my creative endeavor aims to pay tribute to her legacy.
Kaci Mack is a senior at Southern New Hampshire University where she will graduate in May with a Bachelor’s degree in Communications. Her passion for media, storytelling, and creative language use has grown throughout her academic career. Because she loves to write, Kaci spends a lot of her free time reading new books, creating unique works, and honing her communication abilities. Due to her commitment to her work, she has pursued chances that have strengthened and challenged her writing voice. Kaci wants to pursue a career in publishing or professional writing so she can support other creators’ voices and help bring important tales to life. She is eager to advance as a writer and make a contribution to the larger literary and communications world.
Mamà, I’m Home
by Vanessa Reyes
When he first got married, Ricardo made a point to visit his mother. Every Thursday, Ricardo and his wife would take the half hour drive out of the city to visit her in the same three-bedroom house she lived in by herself. After a few months, it turned into every other Thursday. After a year, Ricardo would visit a Thursday every once in a while, until it became Ricardo dropping in whenever he had something important to tell his mom or was craving food his wife, Lucy, had no idea how to make.
For the better part of the afternoon, they had been sipping on their cups of café, skirting around what they really wanted to tell one another. Ricardo looked back at his mother recognizing that he must have given her the worn wrinkles that framed her face and the gray roots that grew out of her head. He remembered how in the evenings she always made sure he had a glass of milk. How there was always a hot meal waiting for him when he came home. He also remembered the weight in his pocket. A shiny new key to open the shiny new house two hours away that he and Lucy purchased.
She placed her hand over Ricardo’s to console him. “Come, there’s something I want to show you.”
He felt something slip down his chest sinking into the depths of his belly, as his mother guided him down the halls of the home he grew up in. The same carpet stains and the same cracks in the wall. None of them will be there in his new house. They will forever be here to trap his mother as he continued to enjoy his life two hours away.
She brought him to a familiar door. One that had been repeatedly slammed in anger and quietly opened in secrecy several times over the years. Ricardo knew exactly how his old bedroom looked. Olive green walls. Old movie posters. Cameras and books that signaled a career that has barely gotten off the ground. He followed her inside expecting her to have found an old roll of film or a yearbook that will help him move onto the next chapter of their lives.
But where were the olive-green walls? The walls here are light blue.
Where were his posters? The only thing hanging here was a picture of la Virgen.
The figurines and cameras of his youth? Replaced by piles of fabric and a sewing machine.
“Do you like it? Doesn’t it feel so much brighter in here?”
The new paint job did help it fit in with the rest of the house instead of being a dark hovel that housed the remains of Ricardo’s teenage doom and gloom.
“Mamà, what did you do to my room?”
“Your room? Don’t you have a room in your fancy new house?”
It was as if he was a child again, and his mother caught him playing with matches.
“¿Mamà, como supistè?”
She adjusted the glasses on her nose and pulled out from the depths of her embroidered apron the latest iPhone. “Lucy sent me some pictures on WhatsApp.”
“Mamà, you know how to text?”
She scrolled through a long list of texts to show him pictures of the house he had already seen, when a notification from a man he did not recognize as either an uncle or cousin appeared. “Oh! You have to go soon. I want to dye my hair before Tyler gets here.”
“Mamà, who is Tyler?”
Instead of answering, she offered him a sympathetic pat on the back that gently guided him toward the exit, leaving behind where his boyhood haven of toys and games used to be.
Explanatory Paragraph
In How not to Drown in a Glass of Water Cara was willing to give Fernando everything and anything she could, but it was only when she stepped back and improved on herself that Fernando was willing to let her back in his life. I wanted to take a humorous spin on this dynamic by featuring a son that expects his mother to be this helpless figure that keeps his existence central to her life. What he learns is that she does lead a fulfilling life even without him and maybe he does not really know his mother at all.
Vanessa Reyes is a student at the University of North Georgia, Gainesville studying Writing and Publication with the hope of entering an MFA program in creative writing. She earned a BSFCS in Fashion Merchandising from the University of Georgia in 2022. After working a few years in retail management and buying, she decided to return to school to focus on her writing. Through her works she aims to capture the intersectionality of being Hispanic and residing in the Southeast region of the United States. When she’s not writing or in school, she spends time in her community, volunteering for groups such as Books for Keeps and the Decatur Book Festival.
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