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First Generation Dominican
Growing in a culture where everyone around you appears to be a cousin or uncle and then coming to the isolated, cold, brick dark walls of the east is in short-traumatizing. I was happy to have my own room yet longed for the laughter and planning of games with local friends and foster sisters that i grew up with by my side. At 7 years old, you think that something is missing, yet no one asks you what’s wrong. She starts feeling like what’s the use, her favorite albums no longer bring her joy. Menudo no longer has the spark it had. The laughter, the happiness no longer brings goosebumps. Here comes the fall! mom says, what a beautiful time of the year in NY. Yet, for me, it felt like brinks over my head. Once again, the coughing, the wheezing, the weekly emergency visits to Kings County. Nothing royal about the place. Why am I here? I just resign in despair. This is how it is to live in the big bright city of NY.
