My Experience In My Life

Day 60: W-why am I here? I’m not crazy… Besides, it’s not my fault, he still terrorizes me!

I’ve grown up in Louisiana all my life; born and raised in the River Parishes where the seafood and industrialized oil was abundant. I never remembered how I came accustomed to the southern lifestyle or how I managed to learn how to fish or skin a rabbit, for it just came naturally. I assume it was because I had lived here all my life that growing up by the culture, in turn, enhanced my southern styled skills. The puzzle pieced itself together, when my friend Adriana came to visit from Minnesota. We were pen pals at the time, but coincidentally, she had close relatives in St. John the Baptist Parish. One summer evening on her visit, we had a seafood boil which consisted of crabs, shrimp, crawfish, corn, sausage, and turkey neck. Now me being the lil’ ole’ Louisiana girl, I happily peeled my seafood with ease and dug in. However, I had noticed that Adriana did not touch her seafood. Her Auntie Kim had peeled all of her seafood for her. I was curious as to why Adriana did not know how to peel seafood; It was an easy task! Nothing to watch out for but the sharp claws and doubling checking for any shellings. Peeling seafood was like the ABCs for me, so why not for Adriana? I was 10 at the time, but now with age, it has come to me that not all Northerners who have yet to visit the south, do not know how to peel these weird crustaceans or to scrupulously eat clean a turkey neck to the bone! They couldn't fathom the thought of eating something that previously lived in the wild mud

I was born in Guatemala City, Guatemala. I like to think that I’ve been blessed to experience so many different cultures, lifestyle, and diversity in Guatemala City amongst its people spending the first 6 years of my life and then moving to Belize. The change from only speaking and hearing Spanish every day to learning English after moving to Belize was a struggle. A struggle that I am so thankful I went through now because that made my transition much easier as I got to further my education to where I am now; a proud graduate and Alumni from the University of North Florida.

My life started like many American boy lives, easy childhood, fun adventures, and an affinity for cars. This charmed life was soon brought to a halt by the introduction to school. Previously the only social interactions were 30 minutes in the park or other gathering where my parents crossed paths with another couple with a child of similar age. This short meet and greet lead to some very weird situations, one that was most memorable encounters were with this 4-year-old, very thin girl at a library. At this particular library, there was a play structure where the parents could drop their kids so they could browse in peace. Having been dropped off, I was promptly greeted by a girl who said with a straight face, “I have a small ass which is good” which threw me off. Being 3 at the time made the situation even weirder. The other problem was at Three I was looking for the truths of the world so I accepted that a small ass was a good thing along with the other very suggestive things she said at 4-year-old. These truths stayed with me for a minimum of 3 years which includes my first year of school.

Until I was eight-years-old, I had a relatively typical family: a mom, dad, two younger sisters, one younger brother, and two dogs. I was goal-oriented and determined even as a young girl; I had my life figured out for the next ten years. I had a strong sense of who I was, but one June day, I began the arduous process of redefining my plans and sense of self.

As I grow older and live new experiences, I realize how my childhood and God led me to the circumstance I am now, which is my last semester of nursing school. I come to appreciate my mother’s hard work to get me through school as well as through life. Growing up in a low-income family in Los Angeles, California with a dad who was a full-time alcoholic and drug addict, was not a good circumstance to grow up. My mother did not speak English or had a job and believed that a married woman is to fully depend on her husband. There were times when my 2 siblings and I had nothing to eat since my dad barely came home with money after spending it all on alcohol and drugs. Due to this living situation and the fact that I was the oldest child, I felt the strong responsibility to drop out of school once I was old enough to work. Education was not an option in my future. Since we didn’t have much money, my mom signed my siblings and me to free afterschool programs at my local Catholic church, so we could learn more about our religion and the importance of God in our lives. I remember my excitement to wake up early Sunday mornings to get ready for mass, even though it took 2 bus routes to get to church. I learned from nuns and priests the importance of caring for others as if they were my own family because everyone deserves the same type of care. Caring was something I learned through religion, and not something I was born knowing. As a way to start fresh, my dad decided to move us to

“Experience is not what happens to you; it is what you do with what happens to you”. That is what my dad was saying in the big screen in front of me, quoting Aldous Huxley, next to my mom, both smiling widely and a bit dewy-eyed. It was a video they recorded unbeknownst to me that was being shown at the Jenkins Foundation scholarship awards ceremony; a night that will last in my memory for the rest of my life. An acknowledgment that came almost as unexpected as the realization that I would study in one of the best universities in Mexico. And, at the same time, a recognition that seemed to be just an obvious next step, the natural consequence of all that I had done and worked for up to that moment.

“Experience is how life catches up with us and teaches us to love and forgive each other”, Judy Collins. I used to look at my life as a series of misfortunate events. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized my life, my experiences, made me who I am. This realization changed who I was and who I wanted to be. In The Last Lecture, Randy Pausch wrote, “It’s not about the cards you’re dealt, but how you play the hand.” I was so focused on the cards in my hand, that I couldn’t even play.

When I was younger, I frequently found myself with a pencil and paper in my hand. I would leave a multitude of marks on the paper in some form or fashion, whether it be scribbles, repetitive words and sentences, my name, or the names of family members. Growing older, I would find myself writing more than enough when it came to essays. I could never bring myself to leave out any details and I rarely used simple sentences. Originally, I thought it was because I wanted the validation of my parents and teachers, but it was something else I had yet to realize. I liked writing and it hit me one day when I was in my room, listening to music.

The morning dew was still on the ground from the steady drizzle the night before as I glanced outside to inspect the weather. I woke up as usual that morning around three o’clock threw my sweatshirt on, stuffed my bag with a dry towel and suit, grabbed some breakfast, and headed off. I didn't rush this time frantically trying to make it there on time. Instead I walked to my car step by step as my mind slowly turned to mush from the feeling of my life slipping away. I knew that as an millennial older generations saw me as an sheltered child, coddled through all my problems. If only this was true I thought, oh how life would be different. I was being crushed by an ever growing pressure to remain swimming on an national level, but still obtain and function within my two jobs. On top of all of this school was to be my primary focus, but I was unable to effectively operate in my school work because of this consuming monster. To them though it's only two jobs, it's only swimming morning and afternoon, it's only school. To them we aren't teens or young adults but children who are given everything.

I lean against the hospital bed reflecting on my life and where it would now lead me. I have just overdosed on a painkiller and I thought my life was over- no hope, no friends, and most certainly, no support. Or at least that is what it felt like. I was at a time of my life where constant bullying was occurring and being in a small school at the time, there was no place to escape. In my mind, I thought the only way out was to vanish from this world completely and so I snooped around for a bottle of pain killers and took the whole bottle.

I was 16 when it happened. It was a surprisingly warm December day in 1994 in Bangladesh. It was already past dinnertime. My dad ran a little bit late from work, since so many people were out enjoying the nice weather. My dad owned a tailoring shop downtown, and it was always pretty busy, since most Bengali stores at the time didn’t sell stitched clothes. My mom and my three siblings went ahead and ate, but I waited for Dad to come home. We always ate dinner together, no matter how late he came back. When he finally came back, it was almost 9:00, so we decided that we were going to eat dinner while watching TV. We watched Looney Toons together. I asked him if he had any wacky customers at the shop. He jokingly tried to convince me to switch from pursuing biology to English. It was running gag between us. Anyone who knew me knew I sucked at English. After he finished eating, he got up to take his plate to the kitchen. I was finishing up my food when I heard a crash come from the kitchen. I ran to the kitchen and I saw my dad collapsed on the floor. I yelled for my mom. We quickly rushed him to the hospital. The quickest way to the hospital was by rickshaw. My mom, my brother, and I kept yelling at the rider to go faster. We finally got to the hospital only to realize that he was gone. He had died of an ischemic stroke on the way there.

There was a time when i was a little boy, only 6 years old and i had a big fear of being alone or being in the dark which wasn't unusual for a kid that age. I was a happy kid and had no problems in life i just had a normal life. One day my mom came in my room when i was listening to music and said “hey honey, the house is kinda boring why don't we go on a vacation for a day or two” i smiled and said sure why not. I didn't get to explore a lot in the world and it i thought it would be a great experience and have a little fun. There wasn't any problem about going on a vacation right? Me and my mom started packing our stuff up and put everything in the car like snacks, drinks, anything you would need for a trip then we hit the road. We were heading to california up by ocean side so we could go to the beach. I would of been my first time going to the beach because i lived in yuma which is a really deserted place, there's nothing there but little water parks and pools so i was very excited to go to a beach. The ride was gonna take about 2 or 3 hours my mom said which kinda disappointed me but i didn't care i was a happy kid. It was about 10 a.m and i was pretty tired, we had 3 hours to go and i thought i could get some sleep to make the time pass.

One hour later and my life became changed forever. My loving and caring family I bonded with, would no longer be the same. The long walks with my mom in the evening would soon become a distant memory. Decorating for the holidays was just around the corner and I would have to hang up the stocking on the chimney without her. The sweet, rich, chocolate brownies she made every Friday night would leave my taste buds empty. Her hugs that made me feel loved when I was sad would now be a thought in my head, and our long talks about growing up and finding my way would be cut short.

One hour later, and my life became changed forever. My loving and caring family I bonded with would no longer be the same. The long walks with my mom in the evening would soon become a distant memory. Decorating for the holidays was just around the corner and I would have to hang up the stocking on the chimney without her. The sweet, rich, chocolate brownies she made every Friday night would leave my taste buds empty. Her hugs that made me feel loved when I was sad would now be a thought in my head, and our long talks about growing up and finding my way would be cut short.