Sorry

I grew up in Cuba, a place where everyone is like family, and where you can create memories even in the simplest of places. My family was huge; I had both my grandparents, my parents, brothers, cousins, uncles, and more. I’ll never forget how loved I felt when I was with them. The parties were the most exciting thing for me as a kid, but now I see them as a symbol of unity—the union of feelings and experiences we share. It sounds like a great place, right? Why would anyone want to leave if they feel free? But in reality, I wasn’t free. I had never heard my parents talking behind closed doors about how they were going to pay for electricity, food, and other essentials. To me, there was no problem. My parents loved me, the president was “good,” and we had a decent economy. I was indoctrinated, just like my parents and friends.

The economic situation in the country was bad—so bad that a carton of eggs cost the same as a worker’s monthly salary. We always believed that having a bag of rice was enough, that we were better than other countries because our government was generous, and that we should feel proud of it. Because of these things, I was forced to leave my country with my parents and brother, in search of a better future. I came here illegally.

Along the way, I faced many challenges, including racism. Many people looked at me differently just because I was from Cuba. I had to cross the ocean in one day, constantly worrying about how I would survive. This terrified me, especially because I have thalassophobia. Looking at the dark ocean left me paralyzed, but my desire to get here was stronger. When I finally set foot on land, I was shocked, as were my parents. One adventure ended, and another began: adapting to a new life.

I started my classes in South Fort Myers because the school I was supposed to attend was full. It was difficult because I lived in Bonita Springs and had to wake up at 4:00 AM. The bus ride took about 1 hour and 20 minutes. I would arrive home at 3:30 PM, even though school ended at 1:30 PM. That’s why I was always so tired.

The first few months were difficult. I didn’t understand what people were saying to me at school, and my grades were low because I didn’t know how to use a computer. My social life was awful due to my struggles and depression. I felt like everyone was judging me because of my poor English, but really, it was just me. In my second quarter, I finally learned how to use a computer, so my grades improved (A’s and B’s). I was happy about that. I thought all my problems were over, but it was just the beginning.

The next year, I earned A’s in all my classes and started doing things to improve my GPA. It went up to 3.8, but I wasn’t fully happy. My question was, “Why don’t I have a 4.0?” I hated myself for not being smart enough, so I started taking AP, AICE, and Honors classes the following year, feeling proud of myself. I began to care more about myself, and I overcame my depression. I met new friends, some not so good, but that’s normal.

As time went by, I joined clubs like NHS, Student Government, NSHSS, Key Club, and, last but not least, Latinos in Action. In Latinos in Action, I felt like I was at home. We all went through similar situations and understood each other. I became president, which made me very happy. I thought about how I could share my Latino culture with the people at my school.

Now, reflecting on all the moments I’ve gone through, I feel proud of how I overcame those difficulties. Today, I’m focused on my future. My dream is to attend a prestigious university and become a doctor. But I know that not all dreams come true. Going to a prestigious university is just that—a dream. My real goal is to graduate and become a good doctor to help those who need it most, just as I did.