Tejana True | Tejana Verdadera
"A proud Tejana finds love at a rodeo with a woman who challenges everything she thought she knew"
Tejana True
Tejana Verdadera
I was fifth-generation Tejana. She was from California. We shouldn't have worked.
"You're not from here," I observed at the rodeo.
"Is that a problem?"
"Depends on why you're here."
"I'm here because Texas called. You have a problem with that?"
Her name was Elena. She'd moved for work, stayed for the culture.
"What culture?" I challenged.
"The food. The music. The women who wear boots better than anyone."
"You looking at my boots?"
"Among other things."
She was different. Didn't know the history, but wanted to learn. Asked questions instead of assuming.
"Teach me what it means," she requested. "Being Tejana."
"That's not something you teach. It's something you live."
"Then let me live it with you."
I showed her my Texas. The ranches where my family worked. The churches where we married. The dance halls where we fell in love.
"I understand now," she said.
"Understand what?"
"Why you're proud. This is worth being proud of."
I kissed her at a tejano dance. The band playing songs my grandmother knew.
"Welcome to Texas," I said.
"Is that what this is?"
"This is everything."
She became Tejana by love, if not by blood.
"To Texas," we toast.
"To the woman who made me belong," she adds.
Tejana true—where roots run deep, and love makes everyone family.