“Hey, can you help me out with this calculus homework? You explain it so much better,” my mom asked in one night when I was at home for winter break. At age 45, she had enrolled in a state college while working a full-time time, inspired by the fact that I was first in her family to even attend a university. The reality is that if it were not for my parents’ sacrifices in this country, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Even in the earliest stages, my Nicaraguan immigrant parents devoted their efforts entirely towards my education.
After being bullied in elementary school for being “brown,” and “poor,” my parents decided that enough was enough and it was time to move. With my father being a cook, and my mother working at the local drycleaners, abandoning their small apartment and moving towards a bigger, more “sophisticated” town was exceedingly difficult. Neither of them had the proper English-speaking skills or formal education, but they both possessed the drive and desire for their daughter have access to a good school with less racism and more attentive teachers.
Unfortunately, we quickly discovered that every rung of the socioeconomic ladder has its own chips of racism. Even in a brand-new school in an “upper-middle class” town, I would receive comments such as “I’ve seen your house and it’s in the ghetto” and “You’re Mexican right? Did you come off a boat? ” Other students would leave crumpled up notes in my backpack with crude drawings and racially insensitive remarks. But wasn’t just school-aged children whose taunts would echo in my head before falling asleep; it was adults too.
I distinctly recall an event at a grocery store, where an elderly couple accosted my parents for casually conversing in Spanish. “This is America. We speak English here! ” they yelled defiantly. Naturally, I was furious, but my parents brushed it off as ignorance. “Don’t waste your time,” my dad said, but in Spanish. That small, but significant event made me realize that maybe society wasn’t ready for us. It made me want to deny my heritage.
Sometimes, I would like and said I didn’t know Spanish, simply because I didn’t want to be associated with poverty or the racial stereotypes associated with Latin Americans. However, the sacrifices my parents made, from working 12-hour a day jobs, to learning English and establishing themselves in this country from scratch, motivated me everyday to push harder in school. Missing school was not an option. I could find solace in the fact that I was doing well in my classes.
Beyond the bullying, studying was enjoyable. Helping my fellow lassmates understand math or science welcomed a comfort that I’ve never had before. Soon I realized that my childhood dream of becoming a dentist was too small a conquest. Why not study the whole body? Soon, I began high school with a modest but very helpful premedical academy, which satisfied my curiosity for medical knowledge. My father made sure that I retain my Spanish speaking skills.
“Don’t be ashamed of us, Karlita,” he would say. “Think about it; you’ll be able to help even more people as a doctor if you understand both languages. I hear those exact words in my head every time a Spanish-speaking patient comes to the emergency room for which I scribe. “Karla do you understand what they’re saying? ” a fellow scribe would ask. In those moments, I could not be more proud of my Nicaraguan heritage or of my parents, who it made it possible to be the college-educated woman I am today. With this, I believe I would offer a greater insight on Latin or Hispanic American struggles—their customs, language barriers, and beliefs.
Being once part of the lower middle income class, I may offer a more sympathetic attitude or knowledge when it comes to patients from the same socioeconomic status. It’s important to use a sensitive tone since not every patient is the same, and not every patient comes from where you come from. Sometimes it’s easy to become aggravated when one doesn’t understand the traditions of others. It would be an honor to become part of the discussion at UCF and make these desires come true. Society is ready for us.
