Lucy Pino was a force to be reckoned with

I never know how people will react when I tell them I’m Lucy Pino’s granddaughter.

My grandma might have been tiny in physical form, but her voice was booming, and her presence demanded respect. Don’t bother with a bullhorn; she didn’t need it. If there was a parade or protest, she was there. She had no tolerance for injustice. We never ate grapes, and we never crossed a boycott line.

Lucy didn’t hesitate to speak her mind at public meetings and was known to leave a trail of angry, fragile egos behind her. Because she wasn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with bullies, people either loved her for her courage or hated her for being outspoken.

We connected through our creative spirits. Together, we collected trash, scraps, and leftover pieces of junk. We glued, sewed, spray-painted, and used duct tape to create wild sculptures. She taught me how to sew blankets from leftover fabric using towels for batting and how to crochet, just like her abuela taught her.

She taught me to be proud at a young age when I didn’t understand the complexities of the assimilation I was experiencing. I vividly remember trips to the library to research President Venustiano Carranza and the Mexican Revolution. We checked out all the books we could find, and she believed that one day, I would write my own book about my family history.

When I was little, Magdalena was only a distant place in my mind. Grandma would tell me stories of growing up, how she only knew Spanish when she started elementary school but dedicated herself to being the best student. At home, she volunteered to make the tortillas so she stay inside and read her books in secret. More than anything, my grandma loved to read; she never had a TV in her house.

But for my grandma, Magdalena was a place that made her feel restrained. As one of the first women accepted into New Mexico Tech, she felt her opportunities opened up, and from there, she launched into a world and eventually a time that was more accepting of outspoken women. She ended up spending most of her adult life in Santa Barbara, California. An entrepreneur at heart with a passion for helping people, she opened her own vocational school.

She would encourage me to start my own business, noting that Pinos often had a hard time answering to a boss.

I was surprised when she retired and moved back to Magdalena. By retiring, I mean she single-handedly updated and automated the Magdalena library. Can you imagine a woman in her 70s cataloging 20,000 books by hand? Sometimes, when I go into the library, I like to take a peek at the labels just to see her handwriting.

My grandma’s house in Magdalena was a treasure trove, overflowing with countless books, craft supplies, office supplies and stacks of newspapers. She was a dedicated subscriber to both the Albuquerque Journal and El Defensor Chieftain and always had the latest headlines at hand. During my visits, we would drink cups of coffee and catch up on the world’s affairs.

Age didn’t ever seem to slow her down; even after she retired, she continued her political activism, organizing events and protests with her friends.

When the Albuquerque Journal ran my story on the San Agustin water battle (one of her passionate protests) I could imagine her bragging to her friends about me, a big proud smile on her face. It’s in those moments that I wish she was here.

Her favorite time of year in Magdalena was Old Timers. She’d roll up her sleeves and create the most extravagant floats with giant paper mâché characters propped in the back of her bright orange truck.

If my grandma was still here she probably wouldn’t be happy with some of the music I listen to or my tattoos. She definitely wouldn’t have approved of all my animals. But she lived her life on her own terms and I think she would have wanted me to live mine the same.

She influenced the kind of librarian, writer, and artist I became, but more importantly, she loved me and believed in me in that unique way that only grandmas do.

This January marks a decade since my grandma left her physical body for her next adventure. In case you didn’t know Lucy Pino, she was my grandma, and I am honored to be her granddaughter.