Breaking the Vicious Cycle of FailureAs a child, I learned how to dream. I always imaged of the American dream that included a white picket fence around a beautiful home where I could hold my perfect family. I envisioned a stable home with parents who would be supportive of my quest to become a soccer player. As I began to move into my junior high years, all of these dreams came to a crashing halt when my father decided to abandon our family. While dreams sometimes never come to fruition, the goals I have set for myself will develop into reality because of the strong work ethic I have developed from failing over and over but still someway somehow overcoming that obstacle. Since I was born I was always raised by a single mother. My father’s history of alcohol abuse crept up and ultimately caused the breakdown of his marriage to my mother. His inability to control his temper around our home provoked lasting damage to everyone in the family. I saw my mother cry and it broke my heart. In my teenage years, I realized my mother’s tears were the result of my father’s absence. This unstable household eventually led to constant moving from town to town. I felt like a stranger in my own land until I eventually landed in Lindsay, California at the tender age of eight. Even though I felt supported by my teachers and newly created circle of friends, I realized something I knew I could never accept: the vicious cycle of failure. The cycle that never lets anyone go above and beyond, the usual cycle of the residents of this town I live in. Most Mexican families in the central Valley, children are expected to attend school, graduate from high school and work in the fields picking oranges or picking olives to support their family. That is basically the town I have grown to know and love. Lindsay is not listed on any list of “most violent towns” by any means, but it has always been known to the breeding ground for low-performing students. Very few Lindsay students have been to attend and graduate with a college degree. I refuse to give in to this never-ending cycle of failure. My mom’s pain and tears have since been my primary motivation; she has given me what she never had as a child. Her pain made me realize that nothing in the world is promised nor guaranteed. Her tears made me realize the cruel and unfair world we people live in. Seeing her raise not only me but my three other siblings as a single mother has been an honor. Even though she might not be physically strong, my mother has been the strongest woman I have ever met simply because of her mental and emotional tenacity. Using this same strength, my mother encouraged me to do well in school. In my sophomore year, I applied to and was accepted into the local chapter of AVID (Advancement via Individual Determination). Intimidated by a large class of brilliant students, I was quickly embraced as a member. AVID opened my eyes to a host of opportunities and encouraged me to look beyond the series of setbacks I experienced as a young boy. In my naivety, I used to think that if I waited long enough, opportunities would come to me with time. AVID has been the vehicle through which I can now dream once again and resume where I left off of in my childhood dreams, and this does not stop here. |