The River

The strange thing about Raul Treviño's childhood was that while he was always fully engaged in what he was doing, he remembered everything in such detail that it seemed as if he were watching himself from above and slightly behind. He wonders these days if it might have anything to do with fevers during his various childhood illnesses. His mother—a teacher—programmed his mind using flash cards for spelling and basic math, and Raul loved it, constantly telling her to go faster and faster. Raul loved to learn and was sure to keep an open mind about anything while growing up on humid, flat farmland on what used to be an old Spanish/Mexican cattle ranch on the border of the Rio Grande River. The adventures of his childhood were extensive, as were the lessons learned about life, death, family, and culture. Some lessons were more traumatic than others, but looking back through the table of contents, Raul hoped the darkness never fully overtook the light, for as much as there were difficult times, there was always absolute bliss in the opportunities offered to a growing child. The development of human identity is complex for each individual, but as a child Raul thought it was just him because back then our socio-ethnographic differences were not spoken about. And yet, the lessons of love for family and cherishing the history and culture of your beloved family require someone to tell their story. Those stories are woven into the fabric of the very same landscapes that they grew up on. They are part of regional history, whether published or not, and because family histories are also universal and unique, they exist because of storytelling. Storytelling is an art form, which we all possess, and is our greatest strength in human culture. The stories in "The River" are all from Raul Trevino's life and family and are only a fraction of the entire thing.