Between Two Worlds

My Family back in Mexico

Lately I've been thinking about the way my mom perceived things back in Mexico, it was her that finally convinced my sisters and I to immigrate to meet my father here. And I am very thankful for the opportunity and the challenge she set before my sister’s and I.

This song by mana brought much of those melancholic feelings last night:


You know how sometimes you feel like you don't belong? I feel like that all the time. I am a total stranger in this land, but you know what's worse? I am also a complete stranger in my own land; Mexico. My English lacks syntax, and my Spanish sucks. I barely know the history of the US, much less the history of Mexico. I think as an American but my heart & feelings are Mexican. I love Mat Kearney but Mana is still my favorite band in Spanish.

As many of you know, not only was I accepted to Augsburg, but I also got a generous scholarship from them, and today when I got my Auggie t-shirt in the mail I was overwhelmed with joy. You guys might not understand this feeling, but it’s like running over and over again on a long path and finally seeing a stop or a rest area. I was running out of fuel and ready to quit, my sisters and I didn’t see a way to pay for school except working to meet our academic goals. Over the past 6 years, I’ve been working full time jobs trying to pay my way to school because we are not eligible for any financial aid. I have abandoned school, but returned twice and yet I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything for my age, and I feel so out of tune sometimes. But when I get encouraging words from my wonderful friends and family I feel like I belong somewhere, like I actually make a difference in your lives. And that is the best rest area my soul could have.

I started writing about this event that has completely changed my life, and as I prepare to begin a new phase in life, I am reminded of the humble beginning I have had… This is just the beginning, I am eager to discover the rest. I can’t thank my loved ones enough! I only ask for one thing, don’t ever stop believing in me, because it is the sweet words I hear from you everyday that makes me who I am. ☺

Every beginning had a spark-

When I first came to the US it was nothing more than a change of address for me. Never did I imagine the implications and the transformation that were about to take place in my life. I arrived here as a child (ten years old to be exact), and just as any other child I was more interested in the pleasures and the novelties any other kid would be interested in, junk food, theme parks and cartoons.

It wasn’t until my cognitive development kicked in that I realized the change I had been experiencing: the language, the culture, the social norms and the trends. I saw the shift in my thinking, it was like an awakening and I liked it. I no longer saw a small village with little to do, but a big city with a lot of commotion. The change was happening too fast but my neurons absorbed every little detail of my new life. I felt out of place in a school with different people, different languages, and different philosophies, but I was unusual, rare and awkward myself. I absorbed the language, the courses, and the patterns of behavior of this new country. After all I was at the peak of my psychosocial and cognitive development. Little by little my ethnocentrism was disappearing and acting like an “American” was normal to me.

My mother’s reasoning to convince my sisters and I to move here were a better future, a new language and most importantly my family finally together, she wanted my sisters and I to have the same opportunities. I left with nothing but my hopes and dreams of a young girl. And with a broken heart I moved to Minnesota.

I still remember the first time I saw my dad after 7 years, he was standing next to his blue ’62 Oldsmobile with his jean jacket and sunglasses looking, what I thought then, cool. It was a hot summer day in Arizona when my dad picked us up to drive to Minnesota; he wanted to visit other states and wanted us to see the diverse cities through the Midwest. The scenery was unforgettable! As we drove through the sandy mountains I was reminded of the desserts with a cactus here and there and the heat of the sun on our skin. I had the window open and I felt the wind play with my hair and caress my face, my eyes were wide open, I didn’t want to miss a thing.

After the road the trip was over, reality finally sank in and I realized that nothing was going to be the same. I felt out of place and detached from everyone around me. Not knowing the language was frustrating and challenging. My parents registered my sisters and I at a school with the best academic programs. I liked the school and all my classes. Although I missed climbing the trees in my old outdoor school, eating fruits from the trees that grew in the back yard, and recess with my friends and the foods from the vendedoras, ladies that sold many ethnic foods to choose from during lunch time.

I learned to speak, write and read English in less than six months. It’s been such a long way from the very first sentence that I spoke in public: “May I have my hat please.” It was to the school bus driver, I had forgotten my hat in the bus one day and I told my dad about it, he taught me how ask him to give my hat back. At that moment I didn’t know that sentence was so proper. But the bus driver simply smiled and showed me a red winter hat, he must have asked if that was it, but I didn’t understand and I simply said “yes” and took it. When I remember that, I laugh and smile because I never forgot that sentence

I didn’t fit in and I knew it, the kids in school dressed differently, acted different and related to each other differently. My very first friend was a blond blue-eyed girl who wanted to learn Spanish. At first we had trouble communicating, but we managed. I don’t think her friends liked me very much but during lunch they tried to be nice and I tried not to say much. I remember being so quiet that I didn’t speak unless I was spoken to. Later on, two more Hispanic students were admitted to the school, I started talking to them but it was a little hard because they were boys. My sister and I were the only Hispanic girls in the school and we had different lunch times and different classes. I felt lonely and I wished to go back to my country. My parents didn’t allow me to leave and I had to put up with the school. The classes were easy, through elementary and middle school I was put in challenge classes because the teachers realized that regular classes were too easy for me, what they didn’t realized was that trying to fit in was the hardest part of it all.

Adjusting to a change of this magnitude was not easy at first, but I embraced and learned to enjoy the shift.

Now that I’m older, I wish I could’ve lived in Mexico a little longer, I wish I could’ve studied Math, Science and Cultural History in Mexico just a little longer. But I do not regret the decision my parents made 15 years ago. It’s true I left friends, family and innocent dreams, but I discovered more than what I bargained for.

…Things changed when I got to high school, but I will leave that story for another day ☺