The Opening To a New Identity.
Leaving Everything Behind
“Mijo levántate, despierta, ya es hora. Agarra tus cosas nos vamos.” Those were my mom’s words as she woke me up from a deep sleep. We were about to start our journey to El Norte. The day was September 7, 2000. I was twelve years old when my parents decided to come to the United States in search for a better future and opportunities for the family. It was then when I realized that my whole life was about to change completely. The trip from Mexico City to the U.S. border in Tijuana was a long three day bus ride that included; car sickness, military checkpoints, headaches and bad night sleeps. When we finally arrived at the border, we were taken to a small house some miles away from la linea. There, I was given an Identification Card that read at the top: “Permanent Resident Card”. A picture of a kid that somewhat looked like me. Name: Joseph Mendoza. Date of Birth: June 14, 1988. “Here, I need you all to memorize this. This is your new name and personal information. Aprendanselo lo mas rapido posible.” But sir, this is not me. This is not even my name. I said. “This name sounds more gringo! La migra would think that you are an American” he replied.

“My stepfather’s experience with the Anglicization of his name –Antonio to Tony- ties into something bigger than learning English. For him, the erasure of his name was
about deference and subservience.Becoming Tony gave him a measure of access as he struggled to learn English, and get more fieldwork.” –Manuel Muñoz
I was confused, why would I have to learn someone else's name in order for me to go somewhere? I thought my name was Jorge De La Concha? Mom, Why? What is going on? Many thoughts went through my head as I was trying to memorize my “new” name. Joseph Mendoza, Junio catorce, mil novecientos ochenta y ocho. Voy a visitar a mi tio que esta muy enfermo. Joseph Mendoza, Junio catorce, mil novecientos ochenta y ocho. Voy a visitar a mi tio que esta muy enfermo. Those were the words that kept repeating going over and over around my head as we started our way to the border. As we approached the building where we had to go through in order to get to the other side of the big fenced wall, the guy that gave me my new name, told me not to look back regardless of what might happen. -My dad Mario was the first one in line, then me, my mom Guadalupe, my sister in-law Johanna and at last my brother Santos-. I saw my dad walk to the tall white haired man to show him the card the man had given us. Then it was my turn, as I was walking I kept repeating myself, Joseph Mendoza, Junio catorce, mil novecientos ochenta y ocho. Voy a visitar a mi tío que está muy enfermo. I could not think of anything else but to get to my dad who was already on the other side of the big turning glass door. As I was making my way out, I glanced back to look how the rest of my family was doing, and I saw my brother getting escorted by the tall man to an office inside the building –He was taken into custody-.

The transition

As I was making my way through a new educational system I could not help but noticing the many different cultures that exist in the Unites States. I remember my very first day at a school. I was with my parents, filling out the admission forms and a specific question got me all confused. “Define your race. Circle one”. The options were: White, African-American, Hispanic, Mexican-American and Asian/Pacific Islanders. What was I suppose to circle? I knew I was Mexican, but the lady at the front desk kept referring to me as “Hispanic”. My mind was confused once again. Not only had my name been taken away from me, but now my origin and my roots had also been taken.

“The interesting thing about Hispanics is that you will never meet us in Latin America. You may meet Chileans and Peruvians and Mexicans. You will
never meet Hispanics.” –Richard Rodriguez
I started school in the United States at the seventh grade. School had started a couple of weeks before I got there. When the student Ambassador took me to my home-classroom, a cousin of mine that had not seen in years was seating at one of the desks in the middle of the room. I was very surprise to see him. His name was Ricardo. He quickly got up from his seat and came up to me. “Tu eres De La Concha que no?” I nodded nervously. “No te acuredas de mi? I’m your cousin Ricardo wuey”. -It was good to at least know some-one in my new school- We started building a relationship. He showed me my way around school, friends, teachers, who to hang-out with, who not to. By my third week in middle school I knew my way in and out of there. I felt really comfortable. One thing I clearly remember him saying was; “See those people in that corner? You don’t wanna mess with them or them by the stairs. Te metes con ellos, te parten la madre. If I were you I’d stay away from them.” -Later on I learned that there were small gangs-. Because I did not speak any English I was put in ESL classes. All of my teachers were American and barely spoke any Spanish. The only teacher I had who spoke perfect Spanish was my math teacher. I had a really difficult time trying to adapt to this new form of life. My name had been changed at the border. I was no longer Mexican but Hispanic, and they were trying to force me to speak a new language that was not Spanish; the language that I was raised by. I remember most of the time my teachers calling me George or Hor-ge just because they simply could not pronounce my real name "Jorge". I had a professor in the eight grade that referred to me as JD, as my initials Jorge Delaconcha. It really made me mad that people were not able to pronounce my name. It felt as if I was different, as if I was from another planet where people have weird unpronounceable names. My identity was been taken slowly away day by day.

“I have had a hard time hearing my name said incorrectly, but I have an even harder time beginning a conversation with others about why
the pronunciation of our names matters.” -Manuel Muñoz
Middle School went by smoothly, I graduated in 2002 and now the real deal was waiting ahead of me.

The Experience

It was the end of summer and I was getting really anxious to start High School. I wanted to meet more friends and experience what many students called "The High School Experience". I had been living in the United States for two years and wanted to see if High School was really the way they showed it in Hollywood Movies. Students with big jukeboxes on their shoulders walking around with loud music, cheerleaders at football games and papers flying all over on the last day of classes. It was something that I really wanted to experience.
It was the first day of classes and the need to make new friends was taking over my head. Being a new student at a school, and not having someone to show me around like my cousin had done it in middle school, was really hard. I did not know who were the ones that I could hangout with, the good and the bad ones. My urgency to make new friends lead me to a big group of students that used to hangout by the Food Court during break times. Being the new kid to the group, they offered protection and mutual friendship to what they called "for life". Hanging out with them I quickly gained confidence around campus, and start meeting more and more members of "La Clica" -The gang-. The more I hang out with them, the more I wanted in in this "Hermandad de por vida" -brotherhood for life- they had going on. I finally belonged to something that I knew i would have for life.
"A culture is learned by individuals as the result of belonging to some particular group, and it constitutes that part of learned
behavior which is shared with others" -Kluckohm.
My freshman year consisted of fights, cutting class, after school detentions and failing classes. At the end of my first year, I was pretty well known all over campus. We would walk by through the hallways and students would get to the side to let us through. I had a reputation, I was living "The High School Experience"

"His reputation grew and spread until, finally, he came to be known as the man who couldn't die" -Victor Villaseñor

My First two years in High School were exactly the same. My name was known! The group of people I was hanging out with, influenced my thoughts and the way I was starting to think about myself and society. I remember there was a point, somewhere between those two years that my observations and thoughts towards Americans (Whites), started to be really negative. The constant thought and feeling that they were better than us because they had all the privileges and accommodations that, us as Latinos and Immigrants did not have, started to turn into some sort of hate. I constantly caught myself saying "I hate this people. Pinches gueros tienen todo lo que quieren y nosotros no tenemos nada". I wanted nothing to do with gringos and their culture whatsoever.

My junior year in highs school had started, and a friend of mine from middle school -Juan- was walking down the hallway. I used to call him "white-wash" because of his constant tendency of trying to assimilate into American Society. We exchanged a couple of words, and told me that high school was being really enjoyable for him so far. He had met friends that he hangout with every weekend, going to parties, concerts and of course, couldn't leave out the fact that he was dating a white girl. When he walked away after a ten miute conversation, my mind had a reaction that i had never felt before. I started to quiestion myself if this "experience" that I was having really was what I had seen in Hollywood movies a couple of years earlier.

Assimilation Happens

One day as I was sitting down watching people walk by the food court, Juan came up to me. He was really excited and told me that he wanted to take me to this party that his friend was throwing. He said she was really eager to meet me. That Friday afternoon I went home, took a really good shower, put on my best clothes and headed over to the party with Juan. To my surprise, as soon as I walked in the room it was full of white people. I felt like the bean in a rice bowl. Juan quickly introduced me to Erin, a tall, blond, green eyed white girl. We started talking and by the end of the night, we had exchanged phone numbers and told me to call her if I ever wanted to hangout. After that night, my life gave another turn. Erin and I started dating a couple of weeks later. I had gone from the guy that had a good terrible reputation at school, to the Mexican guy that was dating the White girl. At moments the thought of “I can have whatever I want” hit my head. And that same thought started to take me away from culture, my beliefs and my roots. But did it really matter? After all, that had already been taken away from me for the last a couple of years. It was time for me to find my new persona. I changed my name from Jorge to Jay D, the way I dressed, the way I talked, the people I hung out with and the language I spoke.

“Some Hispanics have too easily accustomed themselves to impersonating a third race, a great new third race in America” –Richard Rodriguez.

I was really enjoying my new life, my new me. The people around me were kids that had everything they could ask for. They already had their college education paid even though they had not even graduated High School yet. They drove the nicest cars in school. They did not have to work. For a moment I started to think of myself as one of them, I started to think that my people (Latinos), were not capable of having all these privileges and toys and I did not want to be one of them. I thought of them as an inferior race. As if they were nothing but people that were only determined to do hard labor. I was ashamed of being Mexican.

“He was crazy, insane, hating the Mexicans flesh he had on his bones”. –Villaseñor

I knew I was doing something wrong, and I looked for help, but who was there for me to help me? I had already hurt many people telling them that I did not want to be like them, that I wish I was from a different color skin. I had no one to go but Erin. She told me that if I was going to live here in this country, I might as well get used to the idea that this was my new home. And that she’d rather date a “white-wash” than a Mexican.

LUCHA and Puente

For about four years I followed what Erin told me one day. If I was going to live here, I might as well give-in and assimilate the culture that Jay-D had absorbed while in High School. During that time, I was having what I called the best years of my life. Traveling, meeting people, working, partying, girls, living on my own apartment, I was already a grown man. I was having the time of my life. However, the need to be more successful and more powerful came around and I realized that without and education and a degree I would never be nothing else than a supervisor at a local coffee shop. I realized that it was time for me to go back to school.

“But mostly, college is and always has been the future.” -Nikki Giovanni

When I apply to Foothill, I quickly started to get involved in Student Activities around campus. When I joined the LUCHA club (Latinos Unidos Caminando Hacia Adelante) I came in as a person that thought knew everything in life. After all, I was already a grown man. During the spring quarter at Foothill the Latino Heritage Month celebration was taking place; and that was how I found out about the Latino presence in College. At first, I thought of all of those students as a bunch of Mexicans that did not want to be part of the American society, and had always refused to show interest to assimilate. As time went by and started to get more involved in the celebration I started to realize that the Latino culture has a lot to offer. I realized that all those thoughts I had about Mejicanos were just wrong. For once, I saw the views and the desire of what I now call Mi Gente, -my peoples. This involvement within the Latino student body, the chance to join the Puente program; a program for first generation college students that believe in the equal education for all. It was through my involvement in LUCHA and the Puente program that I started to learn more about my people. The struggles that we have to go through in order to become successful leaders and role models for our future Latino Generations. Both have helped me gain back the love for mi cultura, mis raices y mi gente. The love for all the things that I once lost because I wanted to be someone that I wasn’t, because I was looking for answer to who I am but on the wrong path. I am not going to deny, at times I stop and think. What am I doing here? Who really is that person by the name of Jorge De la Concha? What is his purpose? And yet, I still haven’t found the answer to those questions. But I am sure of one thing; I am in THE right path, and how do I know it? For once in my life I feel like I am about to find what I lost ten years ago, on that day of September 15, 2000. Mi nombre, mi identidad y mi origen. Like a friend of mine told me, “by the end of this school year, you’re gonna find the answers to those questions. Puente and LUCHA will guide you through, but it’ll be up to you whether you leave it or you take it. It happened to me too. And I am glad I found the answer.”

Summary Self-Evaluation

The most challenging part of writing this summary was to actual put all of my thoughts together and write them in chronological order according to the story. I usually tend to go from point to point all over the story and it was very difficult for me to put them together. Based on the feedback that I got in my paper and information from different handouts I would strongly say that my strengths are my transition words from example to example. I really like the transitions words throughout my summary and I think they’re really strong. For the next summary I will improve my grade by putting more time to it and work on it harder. Putting more dedication to it will get me a better grade.

Anzaldua blog response 2

The difference on the structure on how Anzasldua writes compared to that of different authors is that she uses two different languages throughout her text. Most of the time authors stick to one language around their text. What makes it an academic text is that she follows all of the steps that it requires. Thesis, Paragraphs with main ideas, supporting details and more than 5 paragraphs. What makes it ant-academic is the constant switch of languages that she has all over the reading. I personally have not seen a reading like that before through my educational path. Personally, if I was a critic I would think that her writhing shows a lot of misleading concepts when he switches from one language to the other. I think that Anzulda writes in this way because she wants the reader to feel comfortable and engage while reading. Also because mainly she wants to make her point across that “Chicano Language” is something that we are around every single day and is a language that was created by previous generations in order to have something that they can say belongs to them. We have to keep in consideration that chicanism was a really big issue during the civil rights movement in the 1960’s and Chicanos needed something that they can relate to. What is he trying to accomplish is to let everyone know that the influence a language has to an individual can change and create a whole different perspective to what people think.

Vark Activity.

Kinesthetic.
I was recommended to go see one of my professors during office hours to discuss the way that I learned the best from. I chose my Accounting professor. Since I was having a difficult time trying to figure out our take-home midterm that was due today, I went to see him last Thursday. During the time at his office I brought up the talk about the way that I learned the best from. And I told him that I am a kinesthetic learner, meaning that I learned best by hands-on activities and body movement. We discuss the subject for about 15 minutes and to my surprise, this morning when I walked into class he had an in-class activity that involved movement around the room and “fake” money as our currency for the day. I thought it was pretty cool that he came up with that after I decided to approach him with this issue a couple of days before! :)

Lit. Blog Response #3

What is the value of happiness to Margarita’s family?

Happiness is often described as the quality of being cheerful and content. A lot of us value happiness as much as we value our family members. The state happiness brings joy and family fortunes to all of its members. As we read Rain of Gold, we encounter several moments where family happiness has played a big role in the story. Dona Guadalupe and Margarita family’s stories are two different stories but yet they both have strong values for family Happiness. An specifically example is shown in chapter fourteen when Juan Salvador is living in Montana by himself and gets a telegram from Luisa saying that if he wants to see his mother alive one last time he ought to come home as soon as possible. And without thinking twice about the situation he boards the train that will take him to California. When he arrives to his mom’s house he finds out that in fact his mom was not ill nor was going to die anytime soon. And all that Margarita wanted was to see her last child she had given birth to get married. “The only thing that kept me alive, mi hijito… is the promise that I made you in the desert, that I’d live to see you grow and big and married (224). By saying this, Margarita shows how important is for her to “die” in happiness. Seeing his younger child get married and have a family of his own, for her is the only thing that has kept her alive for all this years that she has being way from Juan. The fact that she wanted Juan to comeback so they can all be together again shows how important the value of family happiness is for her in the family. We can relate this same topic to what is happening with Dona Guadalupe’s family. Dona Guadalupe has this strong believe that Sophia is not death and that one day she will find her. And the moment that she finally does she plants the flower that she brought from Lluvia de Oro and she had promised that she was going to plant it the moment she’d find Sophia. We can think of the floor as being Dona Guadalupe’s happiness. It is mentioned that before she found Sophia the family was thinking she was going crazy, but when they find out that Sophia is alive, Dona Guadalupe comes back to live. As if happiness squeezes her once more.

Literature Cirlce Blog Response #2

What is the value of family?
The value of family for a lot of people represents the strongest value that one could ever possibly have. As we grow older, we start to realize that family is an essential “item” in our lives that we must hold on as tight as possible. A family that is united will be looking after each other and will always be able to trust every member around them. Some families, if not all, will be willing to sacrifice their own lives for one another. Such case is given in the book, Rain of Gold when Don Victor comes to back to Lluvia de Oro to reunite with his family after more than four years of being away. When his family sees him walking towards the ramada they rush out to greet him with warmth welcoming. Except for Lupe who is a little confused as to call him a daddy or not. “She thought of all the bad things that she’d heard about her father over the years –his gambling and drinking- and thought how he’d left them” (184). At this point Lupe is being a rebellious little girl that refuses to accept that her father is back for good. Is not until Dona Guadalupe explains to her daughter that Don Victor is the man that she loves and she had chosen to be with for the rest of her life. Lupe then realizes that her mom was truly in love with him and that she had to accept that he was in fact her dad and that the value of family that Dona Guadalupe long taught Lupe also included Don Victor in the picture. I also made a connection of having family values with Katie Townsend’s presentation about how the meaning of having a family around has made her who she is, and how the family around her has been the one that is being with her through thin and thick parts of her life. As I had said in the beginning, the value of having a family is an essential “item” for our lives.



How are families unified in terms of moral support?
The more support you get the more likely you’ll be successful. The more support you get the more likely you’ll build a relationship. This is the case of families and moral support. When families share moral support to each other they tend to get closer, like their family relation grown stronger and stronger each day. Families look for each other for support and unity. The book Rain of Gold, talks about family unity and support to each other during hard times. Throughout the story we see scenes where the family gives moral support to each other in order to keep on their journey. In section one of the book Dona Guadalupe’s family gives support to each other to overcome the cruelty of the revolution and the ruling of the Americanos in the mine. They stick together as a united family in order to survive. In section two of the book, as Margarita’s family is heading up North they face tough situations such as not being able to almost keep the family unified. They struggle sticking together but at the end they find themselves giving moral support to each other and then they rise from above to become a unified family again. During section three of the book is the most important one when talking about unified families in terms of moral support. When Don Victor and Don Tiburcio come back from their journey Dona Guadalupe informs Victor that Maria and Esabel had gotten together and she Maria was expecting a child. “Don Victor Stood up erect, staring at Maria and Esabel. But then, instead of becoming enraged, he simply embraced Maria” (190). This particular scene shows the moral support that Don Victor gives the family regardless of what the situation is. This kind act gives the family more unity as a whole. Right after that Don Victor tell Maria that he’s not upset at the situation because he understands that situations are difficult during that time and they do their best to stick together. This clearly shows the how families are more unified in terms of giving each other moral support.

Giovanni's Recomendation

Literature Circle Blog 1. Drawings

This scene that I have selected is when Juan and his family are on their way to go north and they stop by Cara de Nopal’s hacienda to steel some corn (Pages 103 to 106). This particular scene shows the strong unity that the family has, although they’ve been through so much together, loss of family members, and their loss of the land for the Revolucionarios. They still stick together as a family. I would also like to point out the connection that Victor Villasenor explains on the bottom of page 106 how the coyotes were calling and teaching their young ones how to hunt together like a family. I think this connection is really strong in contrast to what the family had done which is working together as a family so everything would be fine. I can relate to this scene as my family and I went through the same thing when we were on our way here from Mexico back in 1994. We were hiding in some bushes just as immigration patrol was passing through the road when suddenly they spotted my brother and my mom hiding behind the bush and caught him. My dad was hiding on the other side of the dirt road along with my other brother and myself. When he saw that Immigration was walking towards my brother and my mom he grabbed us by the hand and came out of the bushes. This Shows how unite we are, and shows a similarity on what Juan’s family went through when they were on their way north.
I did not know that Porfirio Diaz would not allow any “dirty Indians” into the Mexico City while his 80th birthday celebration was in progress. So that is definitely some part of history that I can take with me from this part of the story.

The next scene that I have selected occurs on page 132 and 133. When Epitacio is explaining Luisa of all the beauties the United States is to offer, beautiful houses a green vegetation, flushing toilets inside the house and enough jobs that they would not be suffering to find one. The way he describes it to Lisa is as if it was paradise on the other side of the border. Even Lisa herself could not believe what she was hearing coming out of Epitacio’s lips. This scene in particular I think is really important because it defines the moment of truth for what was ahead for the family. At this point in the story the family is thinking of turning back and going back to their land in Los Altos de Jalisco. But hearing all the great things that Epitacio talked about this great country that he had been before in, the family decided to just keep on going and find what was there ahead of them. From this scene I learned from the characters that they have a lot of hope and they don’t give up really easily despite of all the things they have gone through. My relationship to this scene kind of relates to about the same type of events from scene one. It was September 2000, when my family decided to come back to the United States for the third time. We had sold everything we had in order to come up with money, to get back into the U.S. -After all we didn’t have plans to get back to Mexico City any time soon, all we had left there was our house which my grandma and some of my aunts are looking after-. So when were waiting at the border of Mexicali with Calexico, we were told that I guy in her mid thirties was going to pick us up from the hotel we were staying sometime during the weekend so he could get us across the border. A whole week had passed by and he hadn’t heard from the guy yet, so my parents were getting frustrated and for a moment they thought of going back to Mexico City because they were losing all hopes, but after thinking over and over of all the things that we have seen when we first came to the United States and all of the opportunities that this country had to offer they decided to stick around for a couple more days and see if we would hear about the guy. Luckily the guy whose name was Juan (What a coincidence) picked us up the next day. This Scene might have some sort of political impact as far as how “illegal” immigration has being around this country for a really long time. This story takes place during the late 1800’s and early 1900’s and more than one hundred years later it still persists.

leave your cellphone at the classroom door

What are some of the consequences that they might face if they don’t adapt a digital culture?

Some of the consequences people might face if they don't adapt to digital culture are; better job opportunities, and the opportunity to make life easier.

Nowadays most jobs require employees to have at least some notion of technology in order to get hired. I've seen a couple of job adds that at the bottom they specify that knowledge of basic computer skills is required for the applied position. Therefore, people who are considered digital immigrants, might want to consider to take a technology class or to learn just the basis of a computer just so they can have better job opportunities and higher paying jobs. Also with technology life can be so much easier. From the moment our day starts we are exposed to technology. Our wake up alarms, music while showering, tv while getting dressed. and cell phone to see what time it is. Personally, I start brewing my daily coffee cup while takin a shower, all i have to do is just press a button and the coffee will be ready by the time I'm done. Or what about those vacuums that just go around the house by themselves and clean the floor! Those totally work!!!

Reflection in Munoz Blog

What is the difference between assimilating and giving in to a new society?

A lot of people think that assimilating to a new society means to change your name, the way you look, and even the way you dress. Manuel Munoz argues that people do all this different things in order to feel “included” into a new environment, it can go from a new country to even a new group of friends. I would personally argue the same but twisting it a little bit more. Many people have a misconception as far as what the difference is between assimilating and giving in. For instance, for me, when I came to the Unites States it was really difficult for me to come to the realization that I was going to leave here and that this country was going to be my “new home” . It took me about three years to finally come to my senses and assimilate the American Culture. -When I mention the word assimilate, I refer to the idea of getting used to the American Culture, to the idea of finally coming to the realization that I’m here and this is what I call home now. - For example, I learned how to speak the language and I am really fluent on it, yet I still speak Spanish –my native language- all the time when I am around my family. I’ve been told that I dressed like a “preppy Gringo” all the time. I’ve been called whitewash, coconut, Oreo, so many names that I cannot even keep track of them. Despite all the mentioned reasons, my name is still Jorge instead of George, my last name still De la concha instead of “Di La Cancha” so have a I assimilated enough?
I often hear in the Latino Markets while shopping for groceries names that catch my attention. Junior, Jimmy, Andrew, Mary, Emily, those are just some that make me wonder if those persons or their parents have assimilated or give in to the American Culture. When someone gives in to the culture, is a form of giving up on your previous culture. Changing your name, refusing to speak their native language, deny that they are from a different country and making themselves believe that they’re Americans. There are many factors. What I am trying to say is that giving into the culture is to adopt a new one, while completely dropping the one that was previously established.

My digital Life

When I was little, I remember my favorite place to hang out was at my uncle Juan’s house. He was the only person in my family who had a computer with internet working, and, every time I visited he would let me use it. I remember that each time I had a homework assignment that had to do with writing; I would run to his house and asked him if he would let me use his computer so I could turn in my homework the next day nicely printed in a shiny white piece of paper. I was the only one in the class who did that, so I felt extra special. But back then in 1999 it was not a requirement to type your homework or to even do anything in the computer. Where I am from, not a lot of people had even seen a computer ever before, so it was not something that was expected from everyone to have. It was not until I moved to the United States in 2000 when I became a “digital” person. When I came here it seemed that almost everyone had a computer at their house. I was so amazed by the technological advancement that this country had. As time went on my English and Science teachers during eight grade started to ask for all homework assignments to be typed. But it was during high school when I became total digital. My classes involved online assignments, submitting homework online, even math assignments online! I was really impressed by the type of things that technology could make life as student easier. I even took a web-design class to fulfill my “graduation technology requirement” in order to graduate and receive a high school diploma. So it was not an option that everyone had, it had become a “requirement” now. Let’s not even talk about cell phones. When I was a junior in high school and wanted to get a cell phone just because it was the “cool” thing to have, but, of course, my parents not being from the “digital generation” wouldn’t allow me to have one because I was still not in the age to have it. And now, I see middle school kids getting off school talking on their cell-phones with their parents so they can come and pick them up, time change doesn’t it?
Personally, I love technology. I think it has made our lives easier. Nowadays, all you have to do is make a phone call from your cell phone to your friend’s cell phone to see where they are so you can pick them up, instead of driving around the same 4 blocks for like a million times. What about the advantage of being available 24/7 in case of a family emergency? Or, what about the times when you had to go to the library and look all over for two hours in order to find a book? Now all you have to do is type it in any searching-web-site and boom! There it is, 0.324 seconds, that’s how long it takes the website to find what you were looking for. Yes, we all agree that there are times when you have to go old school and do what we used to do about 4 years ago. Library, pencil, paper, mail letters, you name it, and it might be for our own good! We have to keep in mind that technology indeed is great, but it also relies on energy, a source, that sometimes it gone for a couple of hours and everything gets chaotic. Gosh! What would we do without our dear friend technology!

My Motivation to Attend College

College Education has not come easy to me. I graduated High School in 2006 and started college right after. It was about halfway into the quarter when I started questioning myself if this was something that I really wanted to do. After a week of going back and forth, I dropped out. I started working, and the idea of making money hit me really hard. The more money I made, the more money I wanted. I started moving up in the company and eventually became an assistant manager. I thought I was happy with what I was doing. So summer came along, I decided that with the money that I had saved it would be really nice to take a vacation. I took a month off work and did a road-trip all over the East Coast, from Miami all the way up to Niagara Falls. When I came back, my mentality started to change. I really liked having time off work, traveling, spending money, meeting new people and what not. So then, I realized that in order for me to do all of that, I had to pursue a higher education to be able to earn more money and take as many trips as I wanted to. So I decided to go back to College! Everything was good until I started to experiment what many people call “real college life”. I became the center of attention to every party, gathering, and night out every single weekend. Meeting lots of people, partying, having fun, clubs, alcohol, man I was having a hell of a good time. But one day, down in Santa Barbara for Halloween weekend, I was drinking with my friends and next thing that I know I’m on the floor with my knee cap dislocated, tore tendons and meniscus, broken cartilage and ACL. This fracture sent me to bed for 3 months. During those three months I started to realize that I was not really doing anything with my life. I had lost my job because of the injury. I threw away another change to start college again. I let my parents down, and mostly, I let myself down. After three months in bed I started walking and doing Physical Therapy. Then, medical bills started to come in the mail, twelve thousand dollars worth in medical bills. I had no choice but to find a job and started working like a maniac to pay off that debt. Luckily I found a job that paid me good enough to finish fast. Then I stared college again! And I was told by the counselor that it was going to be my third and last chance to do well. So I started with one class, just so I could get the hang of it again. I did pretty good, finished the class with a B. I started getting involved in student activities, clubs, school events and I really liked it, and it was through this whole involvement and activities that became across the opportunity to join the Puente program. It was a great opportunity for me to become what I have always wanted to, a leader, a mentor and a person that one day some will say, “I want to be like him.”
There are many events that change someone’s life. But it is up to the person to decide what you want to learn and what you want to get from those events. In my case, I’ve learned and gotten a great gift which is Determination. To be able to do what I want to do.

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hi to everyone that gets to read this!! :)