As I opened the front door to see my dad visiting me for my seventeenth birthday, I watched as he unloaded a lofty gray gig bag from the trunk of his rental. Inside was his Squier ‘70s 5-string Jazz Bass, which he used back in his band on Guam, and as a gift, it became mine. I now use it in my band, continuing the life of our bass as though he has passed down the torch to me. I relish sharing a musical connection with my dad, as we both use it to heal through rough times. It was not easy finding out that I was so far from him for so long, as in 2008, he stayed in Guam for five years, and I moved to Las Vegas with my mother. It was not until he moved to Texas in 2014 that we were truly able to reconnect and share the same melodies again. Although music did not pique my interest until years later, he and I never missed a beat together. I always envisioned him as a star performer before I became a musician myself. Now, using his bass gives me a sense of pride, and I see this bass as the bridge that fills the gap between my dad’s intense soul from back then and the storytelling of what is to come for me. Regardless of where the vast world of music has taken us, it has also taught us how delicate our timing is. In the little time we get together, we learn to appreciate every moment, like how we use every beat in a measure. Timing is key to our melody, and every grain of sand in the hourglass after all this time composed the greatest thing me and my dad have bonded through.

– Zaya Escamilla

Relationship:  Grandchild of im/migrant Grandchild of im/migrant