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USA250 Journal Project
Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026
A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.
✍️ “Who am I?”
I’m Miguel Angel Ortiz, son of Javier, grandson of Miguel the first.
This grove was my inheritance—and my burden.
I speak three languages: English, Spanish, and citrus.
Who am I? I’m the one who stayed. The one who wakes before the sun to check for frost and fungus. The one who watched a tree that fed six generations lose its leaves overnight.
I used to think love was labor. Now I wonder if love is knowing when to let something go.
I am not a fool. I know what the numbers say. But I still believe the soil remembers those who kept their word.
✍️ “How did I get here?”
My grandfather bought this land after escaping Cuba. He planted orange trees and called them freedom. My father worked it harder—built systems, fought bugs, chased yield.
I followed them both, like I had no other choice. Only I didn’t know the climate would shift, that the trees would get sick and stay sick, that insurance would dry up while the sky got wetter.
I married Carolina because she was the only one who didn’t flinch when I said I’d never leave the grove. She said, “Fine. But don’t ask me to romanticize ruin.”
She was right then. She’s still right now.
Mateo wants to go organic. Lucia wants us to sell. And every time I look at my hands, I wonder what I’m holding onto—pride, or memory.
How did I get here?
By believing that legacy was enough.
What has life taught me?
That you can love a thing so much it breaks you.
That sometimes, land outgrows its people.
And that maybe poetry isn’t what I write—it’s the only language I have left when nothing else works.
Family, Friends & Associates
Carolina Oritz – Wife.
Lucia Oritz – Daughter.
Mateo Oritz – Son.
Don Julio Salinas – Neighbor/Father figure.
Anaya Powell – Local Co-Op Organizer and Agricultural Activist.
