The first byline credit I ever got was for a small Latin publication. More than the article itself, I felt more accomplished at seeing my name in black-and-white on that page. I had reached a goal. And in that moment, I couldn’t help but think of my maternal grandmother, my abuelita Estefana. She was a writer, and a good one at that. She wrote various articles and even a song that was eventually recorded with her permission. She was over seventy-years-old at that point! As I held that magazine in my hand for a few moments with my eyes glued to my name, I dedicated that achievement to my grandmother. She had since passed, but I knew she would be as proud of me as if it had been her own.
In the recent months, I’ve written and reported for various magazines but I knew at least one of them would be out this month. As I picked up the copy of Tu Ciudad with the “Hip, Hot, Now” cover, I flipped to page 42 and there, again, in black-and-white was my name staring back at me. Another goal reached. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. I picked up two copies and walked around the store feeling a little taller.
I know I was pushing my luck when I went to find Nick Magazine, another book I had recently reported for. Yet I was equally excited and surprised to see that I had another byline in another issue! I can’t begin to describe the feeling as I carried those magazines around the store. I wanted to buy a copy for everyone I saw!
As I went to the cash register to pay, I fought every urge to tell the cashier, “My name’s in here!” for fear of getting that “You’re kooky,” look back at me. But there was a part of me that wanted to ask where I thought my magazine signing table would look best as I signed copies of the magazines in the store. I mean, after all, I am a published writer.
But I didn’t. I just walked back to my car carrying my accomplishments and realizing, once again, that it’s official. I’m a writer. And I know my abuelita is looking down on me just as proud.
