Growing Up: Bakersfield, CA

After my mom made the difficult decision to move us from Tennessee to California, we embarked on a road trip to our new home. I believe it took us about 3-4 days to travel by minivan, though the actual journey is a bit of a blur. What stands out vividly, however, is the moment we arrived at Grandma’s house. Mom barely had time to put the car in park before she ran up the porch and through the front door. The five of us kids followed timidly, crossing the lawn and climbing the porch steps. Walking through the door of that tiny house, I’ll never forget seeing Grandma in her sitting chair, with Mom kneeling at her feet, her head resting in Grandma’s lap. Grandma’s soft, joyful giggles filled the room as she lovingly stroked her daughter’s hair. For the first time, I truly understood that Grandma wasn’t just my grandma—she was also a mom, offering comfort and solace to her child.

We stayed with Grandma until we found a house of our own. Grandma, Glenda Lucille Cowell Harwell, was a talented seamstress who ran a small but successful drapery business from her home. Her workspace was a large back room equipped with two sizable cutting tables and four sewing machines (including a serger). This was where I learned to sew. Grandma encouraged us to experiment with her machines and drapery scraps, and I delighted in trying to make pillows and clothes. While my creations were far from impressive, I discovered a deep love for creating.

Moving to Bakersfield was particularly exciting because it brought us closer to family. We had cousins nearby—Michelle, Kristi, Carrie, and Amber. Carrie, who was just a couple of months younger than me, became my built-in best friend. She was the perfect companion, introducing me to her friends and making me feel welcome. Looking back, I realize how mature it was for an eight-year-old to embrace her cousin so warmly and help her fit into a new social circle. It was a huge blessing, especially as starting at a new school was intimidating.

Carrie and Cindi 1989

​Shortly after our arrival in California, I began third grade at Norris Elementary School. Luckily, Carrie was in my class, along with some of the friends she had introduced me to over the summer. I loved Norris! The school was surrounded on all sides by cotton fields, and driving through acres of farmland to get there was a unique experience. Because of its location, we often had “fog delays”—mornings when the fog was so dense that students weren’t allowed on the playground for safety reasons. I remember arriving early on those foggy mornings and playing games like “smear the queer” (an outdated and inappropriate name, but that’s what it was called in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s). Those mornings were some of my favorites.

Another highlight of this time was when my mom started an All-Star Cheer program. She invited students from across the district to try out for a new cheerleading team, which became a fantastic opportunity to make lifelong friends. Through cheerleading, I continued to pursue a passion I loved while bonding with new teammates. We participated in fundraisers, performances, and exhibitions, creating cherished memories and building connections within the community. The Kern County All-Star Cheerleaders eventually began competing, and the program grew into a thriving competitive sport in Bakersfield.
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Bakersfield was a wonderful place for me. I cherished the attention that came with being the daughter of a well-known and respected mom. Our family was warmly embraced by relatives and friends in the community. We found support through our church, school, cheerleading, and the close-knit relationships my mom formed at Dancers Workshop. We also enjoyed participating in the Melodrama. This time in Bakersfield was a period of healing for us as we navigated life after losing our dad, and I will always be grateful for the love and support we experienced there.

Me, Mom, Jill 1991

Me, Jill, Terri 1992