Vignette 1:
I was always told that change was inevitable. Supposedly change builds character
and defines who you become in the long run. I wish that I was made more aware of the term “change” in the early years of my life. Growing up in Bushwick where people sang their lungs out till the crack of dawn as if they were a mockingbird, to an everyday conflict on who owns what turf forced me to change who I was every single day. I remember being around 5 years old where I could barely look people in their eyes because of how confused and fearful I was of all the change I’d experienced. My dad left me and my mother when I was 3 to convert himself over to a new life and reinstate the skill of being a true father. There was no “goodbye son” or “I’ll be back”, just a forced change shaping even more confusion into my teeny tiny mind. Some of my family members thought I had issues because I didn’t murmur my first words until I was 6 years old. I can recall the daily sessions with a speech therapist my mom had for me in an attempt to get me to speak. I spoke, but not in the way anyone would have thought of. I spoke for the first time but not to any specific person, I spoke to myself. The idea of life and how it always changes actually changed how I perceived the world from a young age.
I tried to dodge change, because everytime something changed it hurt me negatively. From leaving my childhood apartment, to moving into my mom’s new husband’s house, I couldn’t be the son that my mom deserved. I remember the day before moving out, the creeks in the staircase leading upstairs letting out its eerie cry, the floorboards with every step I took letting out a depressing cry of sorrow. I wasn’t just leaving, I was changing and it wouldn’t be the last. Fast Forward to my Sophomore year of highschool, I was thrown into a pit of illusions. It would’ve been a long drop down as the wind would’ve swooshed me under and locked me in its grasp. I was again forced to change, but this time it was my character being challenged. Everyone knew each other at school and the eyes were all on me when “the kid from Brooklyn” entered the unfamiliar territory of Queens New York. I sat alone, thought alone, studied alone, all in all realizing that this change wasn’t my fault. The world is destined to change, you just have to keep up with it. Change can be seen as negative from my youthful, growing, and confused eyes, but change can be Necessary. Change tilted my head, releasing the boundaries and set of chains that instilled into my mind. Change is what you make it, change can shed the light on something that needs to be revealed, or it can release darkness. The choice is yours, It’s your destiny.

Vignette 2:
Puerto Rico, It’s in my blood, my tone, and my appearance. Puerto Rico is
my historical place of origin, so I should be totally invested into its culture right? Not in my case. I should be fluent in Spanish since it’s my native language right? Nope, you can cross that one off the checklist too. Every family occasion, filled with enormous laughter and the music aux being passed around the party room all spanish music based, I sat there as if I were watching a show without subtitles. The only thing that I could understand was the constant screaming of “Oh yeah let me get some Romeo Santos!” or “put on some Aventura!” from the drunk uncles. I just don’t think learning Spanish is in the cards for me. My mom signed me up for a bilingual program in middle school that worked on the basis that one week of class is taught in English, and the other week is taught in Spanish. Once the grades came in for the first half of 6th grade, I succeeded with flying colors on the subjects taught in English, but the subjects taught in Spanish had grades so low that not even my dog would want to eat that silky smooth paper enlightened with bold red text. I wish my dog would’ve taken anything Spanish related and dug it somewhere far where I’d never have to see it again. That might all sound bad, but I guarantee you that’s not even the worse part. The part where you actually have to speak one on one with your Spanish teacher in a made up scenario in Spanish is the most gut wrenching thing you could experience. That moment gave me an adrenaline rush like no other, faster than the Cyclone at Coney Island. I started spewing out random Spanish words in the hopes that I’d get the ok signal to pass the class. For instance, take Eminem and his super fast paced raping technique. That was me, or at least I thought that way in my head. With the most “What in the world just happened?” look from my teacher, she gave me the ok to pass which was probably her way of saying, “get out of here recruit!”
Although my Spanish isn’t top tier, I can somehow understand all spanish gossip stories told by either my own family members or other students at school who also speak spanish. For some reason, gossiping in Spanish has this enticing feeling about it. Almost as if you’re in an intense scene at the movie theater, with the suspense building up every small second. Too bad for me, I couldn’t eavesdrop on anything being spoken. For all I know, people could have been talking about me and I would have been completely clueless. I can recall traveling to Puerto Rico with my family, a trip that wasn’t on my bucket list I assure you. At first I thought I’d just have to worry about the language barrier between other humans, but I was so wrong. The cats, dogs, and even the horses only took commands in Spanish. Why does this language have to haunt me? I get it, I’m not the expert in Spanish but at least cut me some slack! Spanish may be in my DNA, but it is nowhere near my brain.

Vignette 3:
What’s your biggest inspiration? Is it that one time you may have gone out
to meet your dream celebrity? Or maybe it’s that one time where you saw someone work hard for something and they achieved it? For me, my biggest inspiration is seeing the energy flow and shift. Now what do I mean by that exactly? I’m talking about sports! Seeing the basketball dribble onto the perfectly waxed court, with each bounce getting louder and louder as the ball proceeds to flow through the air, silky smooth into the net. That round and hard baseball that can pierce through the air with its velocity, reaching up to 100 miles per hour. The sound of that exact ball coming in contact with the catcher’s glove to say “strike your out!” or the slam off the tip of the bat that makes everyone scream “home run!” Even the oddly shaped football that summons war cries every time a touch occurs. All of these have one thing in common, vibes and energy. Who doesn’t love a good moment of celebration for their favorite team? Or even a slight competitive edge in their character? Sports are monumental because of the impact it has on the world. Look at all of these athletes getting paid millions of dollars, they are set for life! The crazy part is all of these athletes started from somewhere, from being a kid to having someone or something be the inspiration that guided them to their career today. The inspiration of sports is so strong, the concept continues to grow monumentally and adapts with the rest of the world. Sports are for all, they unite all regardless of place of origin. Sports remind us that talent is everywhere on this earth. Why should inspiration be limited to one person, if all can be impacted by it?