About the author

A B O U T T H E A U T H O R

Pleasure to meet you, my name’s Nick Castellanos. I am an overachiever and burned out gifted kid that just tends to go a bit overboard. I learned how to read and write at the age of 7-8. My family was not one to know English and would always teach me such words in Spanish. My mother tried to teach me to speak in English but, even she couldn’t. So, I struggled in school, learning a language I never knew before. Looking around and hearing this foreign tongue that and then was shunned to speak my own language. I struggled by myself, pushing the limits of what I knew. Reading book per book as a child, hoping I’d understand. Spending my lunch and recess breaks with a book of flashcards in my hand that would help break down the language. I’d spend 5 minutes on one sentence but, slowly I learned. I became more excelled than any of my classmates. Joined spelling bee’s and was forced to win first place due to the determination I had, to show a hispanic that never knew the language, learned and knew it well. I was sent to programs and classrooms of “gifted” that would help exceed my knowledge. Off and on this went everyday until I was skilled in both classes. Yet, I was so young. My lexile score was high for a first grader and not to mention a second grader at a fourth grade reading level. My comprehension was fluid and the accent in my voice faded or melted like butter in summer. As said in Spanish “tengo el nopal en la frente” which means I look hispanic so I must know Spanish but, since my accent faded, it was as if I didn’t dare struggle to speak English.

What I can say is that even till’ the present day, I'm the one teaching my mother English since she still struggles on a daily basis. Teaching her how to write and read. Seeing how excited she got when she would write a sentence correctly. Always pushing me to succeed in life and grow in parts that I tend to run from. Always overworking myself and having drenched sweat and tears buried upon my face. Having my fingernails covered in dirt or sticking my hand in a car engine. I was taught to help fix cars and eventually it got me dirty. In my household, if you come dirty and tired, that’s a job well done. If you didn’t have even a speck of dirt on you or the least bit of tiredness in your face, you truly never tried and maybe that’s what stuck. This is what encouraged me to write about lowriders and chicano culture due to the environment I grew up in , that was more hands on then sitting back and letting it all fall into place.