
COMING 2025
Finding Our Way Home

SYNOPSIS
BROKEN FAMILY - Finding Our Way Home
My book begins with my mother sitting on the edge of the bed, the one with the purple bedspread, reading our favorite story, Are You My Mother? She finished the book, set it down, walked out of the house, and disappeared for nine years. We were one, two and three years old. She surfaced nine years later and we learned that she had birthed more children, including a daughter who she also named Tamara, my name.
Shortly after her disappearance I was separated from my siblings and left in the terrifying care of a sexually abusive uncle. This nightmare was punctuated by the erratic appearances of my father as he continually reinvented himself, taking my siblings and me on a chaotic ride through a series of emotionally-unavailable "mothers", illegal careers, and naked-hippie gatherings, only to return me to my uncle. Wanting to raise our consciousness, our father was smoking pot with us by the time we were 6, 7 and 8 years old.
When we were with Dad it also presented other obstacles, from unsafe environments, to being kept out of public schools that he believed were "shame institutes". By 9, 10 and 11 we were supporting his cottage industry by tying macrame hangers and helping make sand candles. He was always trying new food fads so we were put on mugwort tea and brown rice diets to rid our body of worms. Luckily, there was a Winchell's donut house right up the alley, where we befriended the workers and got to eat as many donuts as we wanted. I robbed that donut house before I left home that spring.
Navigating a maze of confusion, distrust and fear, I felt the weight of my secret plans to escape my fathers house, knowing I would be leaving my siblings, my only anchors, behind. But, I felt like I had no choice and at 13 I left home to spend the next several years on the violent streets of Denver, where survival often meant making harrowing choices. I found myself ensnared in survival-based sexual relationships with men more than twice my age, desperate to find security in a world that felt relentlessly hostile. With only five years of education between elementary and middle school, I faced extraordinary odds.
Characters like Uncle Ernie, Little Earl, Cedric, Scat, Misty, Stomper and Leroy Jones, emerged as both mentors and predators, exploiting my vulnerability. They pulled me into a web of dangerous con games, escort services, robberies and violence, each encounter leaving scars that would shape my identity and ultimately power up my resilience.
Yet, since childhood, even in the darkest moments, I felt a spiritual presence watching over me. This presence revealed itself during pivotal times, offering strength that transformed my despair into hope.
It was through this lens and after the birth of my first child at eighteen, that I made my way through the treacherous landscape of my life. I ultimately discovered the strength within me to rise above my circumstances, and I vowed to be the mother I never had.
Broken Family stands as a celebration of survival. It casts a light on intergenerational trauma and the hidden struggles of young people from fractured families. It brings into focus the transformative power of compassion, forgiveness and unseen forces that can propel us toward a positive future.
This memoir chronicles my journey from the tender age of two to the pivotal age of nineteen when a spiritual experience within a Native American sweat lodge ceremony forever altered the course of my life.
The sequel to Broken Family is well underway.

It is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world
-Mary Oliver
Prologue
1975
I was already awake when the alarm clock under my pillow went off at 5:00 a.m. I quickly dressed, carefully walked up the stairs from the basement, and slipped out the back door. I didn’t want to wake my dad and siblings who were sleeping inside. Crickets were chirping as I left the house and the early morning sky was still filled with stars. I noticed that the birds hadn’t started singing yet.
I took a deep breath and paused to look around; I think I was waiting for some sort of blessing or good luck omen. My heart hurt at the thought of leaving Tonya and Mark behind, because Dad had finally settled us all into a house together.
But I knew I had to go. Standing in the dark, the familiar knot of distrust tightened in my stomach as I thought about my moms disappearance and the multitude of times my father abandoned me. His departures etched deep scars in my heart, leaving me in the grip of my abusive uncle and separated from my siblings.
I didn’t realize then that my decision to escape from home would set in motion a chain of events that would pull me further into a violent, unforgiving world. I understood however, that I had to summon enough courage to embark on this uncertain path, towards what felt like freedom.
Barefoot, I was wearing my favorite blue sweat jacket and carried my Converse sneakers in one hand and my heavy backpack in another. Crouching and peering ahead, I stepped toward the alley where my boyfriend waited. I could see Willie’s silhouette standing outside his ‘72 dusty blue Toyota Corolla with the hatchback open. The moon cast a long shadow behind him down the dark alley.
Willie was 19, tall, with a big afro, and his skin was silky smooth. I remembered the day we had met in Winchells donuts, several months earlier. That was right before I robbed the place.
I had taken the garage key from my dad’s keychain earlier that evening and left it in the lock. I turned the handle of the old metal door to the yellow brick garage that faced the alley, and slowly lifted it. My heart pounded as we loaded the back of Willie’s car with my boxes, and I imagined my dad catching me as I tried to escape. Would he attempt to hold me back, or would he shrug, saying he didn’t know what my karma held, trusting I must find my own way?
We quickly finished loading, and Willie got into the car, silently closing his door. Leaning over, he pushed open the passenger door and urgently whispered, “Get in, Baby. We’re going home.”
I was just 13.

~Xiuhtezcatl Martinez
My mothers story is nothing short of a miraculous demonstration of humanity's ability to heal, and transcend trauma to be a vessel for unconditional love.
Equally exhilarating, heartbreaking and inspiring, this recounting of her journey sheds light on the turbulent adventures she endured to arrive at her life mission of helping build a better world for the youth and future generations.
As great art often does, the darkness confronted and healing undergone through the writing of a book so personal reminds me of how closely the internal mirrors the external; how the individual mirrors the collective.
After a lifetime of service to youth worldwide through her groundbreaking work as the founder of Earth Guardians, this book unveils a profound story of love, loss, broken families, and healing.
Despite growing up never knowing a home or a loving mother, she not only provided for her 6 children, but also for thousands of young people across the globe whose voices and communities were nourished by the vision that my mother has been a vessel for, for over 30 years.
Courageous, captivating and necessary, the ripples of this journey now told will undoubtedly affirm and uplift many as we all navigate through the obstacles of this complicated and messy world, in search of our light.
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