Like many first generation I have a part of me that I don't tend to show or say. Half of me is this American, born and raised in a huge city. But the other half, well it's a girl from Mexico. But not the nice sunny and beach part. No from a poor small puebla near two volcanoes. And although it isn't the city, it also from where I live as I am still half of my parents who would tell me the stories of their childhood there. The cara de nopal that has been bestowed upon me, allows me to share those stories so that others can understand and as well. So they can see life in someone else's eyes. A part of me holds the story of boy who, at a young age, was always looking for their older brothers who had gone to the military for money and work. Another is of a girl who wanted to help and save the lives of those who were ill, but was stuck between her dream and supporting her family. My parents would always tell me "para nosotros era el campo primero, y luego la tarea si podimos" which means "for us it was the fields first, then the homework if we could". They didn't make it that far, but that doesn't mean they didn't try. When fate united them, they came here so that their children can have a chance a dream that they couldn't, a chance to escape so that I didn't have to focus on labor. And the same thing can be said by many others who had come to this country. I may not be an immigrant myself, but doesn't mean I don't hold the story of one. Everything is done for a reason. I am saying this so that those whose names cannot be given, can have a voice that can never be taken down. I will use my rights as a citizen to protect those who keep silent in the dark with a story like no other. Jessica '21 (BHSEC Queens)
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