If you ask anyone that knew me when I was a child, they would probably first tell you about my bubbly personality and then lead into how I always wanted to be an adult. I did not play with toys but played with my imagination, and if I was not playing the part of a princess or a dinosaur (because I went through a stage like that), I would play adult parts. I would play the mom, sometimes the dad, I would want to act out being a waitress, or work in a store. I just thought that growing up would be fun. Then lead into my teenage years where ALL I dreamed about was the freedom. Freedom from school, freedom from my parents telling me what to do, and the freedom to finally start chasing my dreams. Continue reading “Adulting Abroad”
I grew up with a mother who had an accent. I remember a time when we were in the pool and she was speaking to me in Spanish (because our relationship is in Spanish) and someone told her to speak in English because she was in America. I remember at times having to translate her English so people could understand what she was trying to say. I never understood her frustration at times, because I understood my mother. I loved her accent. I wanted it at times because I thought it was the best sound in the world, coming home with friends who had never met her and surprised at my Spanish background (because I obviously don’t “look” like someone who speaks Spanish). It was something that made my mother unique (out of obviously the other countless things that do).
Then I moved abroad, and one day I got the accent. I can’t deny that these past two years I have been lucky to meet people that absolutely love the accent and are welcoming to their country. I got a reality check when I started school. I have met my fair share of people, who I am very lucky and fond of (they make sure I am following the classes and understand well, telling me if I ever need help they are a phone call away). I have also met people that roll their eyes and probably wonder how I ever got into the university.
Continue reading “You Don’t Know How Smart I Am”
If we were having coffee I would probably make an iced mocha, since the heat can be somewhat unbearable here in France. I would ask what you would like, make your drink and sit down (probably with an assortment of cookies because that’s what my mom taught me to do while having coffee with people. It is a social event). Continue reading “If We Were Having Coffee (La rentrée est là)”
Two Years Ago
An article I wrote in the midst of my anger.
“No child left behind, that’s the American scheme” raps Macklemore in Ten Thousand Hours, words that to me, resonated as I drove by the high school I graduated from.
Continue reading “No Child Left Behind… But I Was: Building My Own Dream”
Today is the beginning. Today is the beginning of the long wait. Today is the beginning of nervously wondering what they are thinking while reading my grades and French letters, which I took weeks to write and had four separate French people look at and re-read over and over again, until I felt it was strong enough to convince someone. Convince someone that I have worked and am willing to work to get an education in France. Continue reading “Beginning”