Resilience
I’m surprised I made it this far in life. I feel as though I was that under-dog, skinny, hyper kid, that loved to swim, fish, and run around all the time. I was born in Santurce, Puerto Rico and raised in the City of Hialeah in Miami-Dade County by my immigrant parents. A strong Dominican mother and a Venezuelan-Colombian father who was an entrepreneur and who was imprisoned during most of my teenage years. But he taught me all I needed to know about life and fishing. Mami worked for Kmart for 40 years and kept us organized.
My Ocean
My connection with the ocean, vast and peaceful while unpredictably menacing, found me in the grips of Hurricane David in 1979 in the Dominican Republic. I fell from my uncle’s arms and into the flooding water, the river nearly sweeping me away, but thanks to a good soul – to this day I don’t know who – grabbed me out of the water and saved my life.
My fondest memories of fishing are when I would take an early morning trip with my family from our home in Hialeah and drive to Key West to fish until the sun went down. My dad would often tell the story of when we first moved from Puerto Rico to Florida when I was a little girl. I kicked and screamed before boarding Eastern Airlines, because security wouldn’t allow me on board with my fishing rod. But after a bit more kicking and screaming, they relented and I strolled on into the plane’s cabin – my fishing rod in hand.
I grew up understanding energy and how it flows, how it affects us, and the choices we make to harness and use it. Like fishing, there exists energy when you encounter the water: finding a place to anchor yourself, setting your eyes on the horizon, and then thrusting your fishing line into the vastness of possibilities. And then you wait…your catch beholden to the energy in the rise and crash of the waves. The lesson, my father would tell me, is to not fight the tide with frustration – be patient, reel your line out and in with the pressure of the water, and you’ll know when to… power it in.
Perseverance
My mother carried a strong work ethic and taught me to always present myself with a sense of pride. As I grew older, she would tell me to ‘dress professional (nice) to work, comb your hair, be kind, respect your elders, don’t say bad words, don’t chew gum, and don’t take naps at work’ (which at times I have during my lunch time). She’s been a fighter, a work horse, and made sure we always had what we needed, especially when my dad wasn’t around.
Otherwise strict and protective, my dad allowed some freedoms not usually provided to kids my age. I started to learn how to drive when I was 12 years old while sitting on my dad’s lap. The constant refrain in our house was always in case of emergency, you can drive the car. He was training us to survive and handle whatever came our way…or at the very least to not be afraid. And, with every opportunity, he would teach me more about fishing.
My dad continued raising me through the phone while he was in prison. I still had respect and the fear of failing him, my mom, sister, and most especially while my mom was forced to work every option to keep food on the table, pay our mortgage, and make sure we had enough nice clothes. I’d prepare for my dad’s call before his daily headcount, which required that I be home and ready to discuss my day with dad.
Rise and crash…and rise.
I was a competitive student athlete. I played soccer and ran track and cross-country from 5th grade through high school. I would train until I tired-out the fear of not completing my races. I just wanted to finish with my personal best. I remember one race in particular: it was at Tropical Park in Miami where I was ranked top 20 out of 300 young runners. Before the race began, I stopped to take my earrings off, and had the brilliant idea to put them inside my shoes, only to realize it wasn’t such a brilliant idea when they began to stick into my heel, and midway into the race I had to stop and take them out of my shoes. At this point, all 280 kids raced past me. I was devastated, but resolved to finish the race anyway. I pushed and hustled. Eventually I caught up and was racing among the top 20 runners. I finished the race. In fact, I came in 12th place that day. I was the happiest kid in the world!
Rise and crash…and rise. I powered it in.
It takes a village!
It was my teachers from Meadowland Elementary in Hialeah who taught me about looking beyond myself and of giving back. These teachers, strong and proud African-American women–Mrs. Robinson, Mrs. Lynch, and Mrs. Harris– allowed me to see women of color in prominent positions early in my childhood. I carry a bit of all of them in me: no joke, tough love – and hugs everywhere in between.
All the free extracurricular activities that I could sign-up for as a teen – Girls Scouts; ASPIRA; Youth Crime Watch of Miami-Dade County; cheerleading squad, and soccer – were my anchor, my response as a high energy, visual, and experiential learner who excelled by watching and doing. And though classroom-style learning – struggling with exams especially – was difficult for me throughout high school, I was intrigued by the stories in social studies and literature class, of the characters and actions that have had an impact in our world.
My high school soccer coach walked me through the scholarship application process, had me speak to my parents, made arrangements with Mount Ida College and the next thing I knew, I arrived in Newton, Massachusetts. I wasn’t really prepared for college. I assumed I would study at my local community college.
I did know this, however: I would study criminal justice. I was in search of answers, and I would find them there. I went fishing for knowledge about criminal investigations and the skills and strategy that went into committing crimes. The impact of Miami’s drug war during the late 80’s and early 90’s made me curious about the law and the mechanisms of the system, which pointed me to my journey in criminal justice advocacy. All the while in college, I became a Resident Assistant, Senior Class President, Student Activities council member, and continued to push myself on campus.
I am reminded everyday that it’s the energy from people who surround you with love and support – family, whether blood or not, and friends – which you are to harness always. However imperfect, as frail and yet promising as you are, their energy will remain as your anchor.
Rise…and crash…and rise.
