Viva Cuba! A story of how I came to America
Hi chatty friends! Today I like to share how I came to America. I know what you are thinking. No I did not sailed across the Caribbean ocean or swum with the sharks (yiakes).
I actually flew in a plane with my family at the age of 16 and yes my feet were dry. Knowing no English, Sí NADA! I started my last year of high school.
My high school in Cuba was very different from the one here in America. My high school in Cuba lacked running water.
So my friends and me walked miles out of the school every other day to resource some.
We sang songs about love, the moon, the heartbreak and drank 'made up' rice-wine to celebrate our youth despite the adversities.
For the first few months in my American high school felt like a daze. High school augmented all my teenagers fears. I felt excluded, misunderstood, ignored, unimportant, and very very depressed.
You know those friends from high school that stay forever. Yep those! I still have those from my high school in Cuba. We bonded from struggle and odd circumstances.
However, Americas high schools are hostile, yet manageable. For a new student that only seen America from television shows, reality was very different.
I surrounded myself with people that helped me through my high school journey. I created an armor.
This armor my favorite high school teachers, and a group of few friends which helped me through the days.
My advice to you"surround yourself with good people". People that "want to see you succeed".
People that wipe your tears when other kids bully you and help fix your clothes if they happen to be broken one day.
People that keep telling you that "you are worth it", "that you are strong and you are going to make it".
Those people are your armor. Keep your armor so you can go to war.
I actually flew in a plane with my family at the age of 16 and yes my feet were dry. Knowing no English, Sí NADA! I started my last year of high school.
My high school in Cuba was very different from the one here in America. My high school in Cuba lacked running water.
So my friends and me walked miles out of the school every other day to resource some.
We sang songs about love, the moon, the heartbreak and drank 'made up' rice-wine to celebrate our youth despite the adversities.
For the first few months in my American high school felt like a daze. High school augmented all my teenagers fears. I felt excluded, misunderstood, ignored, unimportant, and very very depressed.
You know those friends from high school that stay forever. Yep those! I still have those from my high school in Cuba. We bonded from struggle and odd circumstances.
However, Americas high schools are hostile, yet manageable. For a new student that only seen America from television shows, reality was very different.
I surrounded myself with people that helped me through my high school journey. I created an armor.
This armor my favorite high school teachers, and a group of few friends which helped me through the days.
My advice to you"surround yourself with good people". People that "want to see you succeed".
People that wipe your tears when other kids bully you and help fix your clothes if they happen to be broken one day.
People that keep telling you that "you are worth it", "that you are strong and you are going to make it".
Those people are your armor. Keep your armor so you can go to war.
High school in Cuba.
Link to high school in America: http://sickles.mysdhc.org/School_Information
