Barbie

As I leisurely woke up and regained my coincidence, I was immediately exposed to what seemed to me like a pink cloud. With in this cloud there seemed to be a tall figure wearing every shade of pink possible. As the pink cloud vanished and I recuperated my sight, I was able to make out that the tall figure was the one and only, Ballerina Barbie. Along with her, came my older sister wearing the same colorful jacket she had been wearing when the accident occurred. I could recall us driving around the park on our four-wheelers on a cold October afternoon. We had decided to race and see who would get from one end of the park to the other first. As I made my last turn I could hear the victory chant coming from my cousin who was standing at the finish line. As I was making my turn, my sister appeared from the bushes and very ungracefully, crashed right into me. I broke my left arm, cracked the bone of my right arm, and became a victim of sister’s bestiality. In order to compensate for her vicious actions, Toa bought me the only thing she knew would make me forgive her. Owning Ballerina Barbie had been my dream since my mother demanded I take ballet lessons with my sister.

At the age of seven, when Toa had decided she wanted to be a dancing princess, my mother forced me to follow my sister’s footsteps. Dancing had always been something I whished I was good at, and coming to this realization at the age of five, had been quite distressful. Toa was an extraordinary dancer and what bothered me the most was that she wasn’t cocky about it. She was always willing to help people, and she couldn’t receive a compliment without replying, “Thanks, you did really well too.” On the other hand, I was always the kid they put in the back row with the excuse that I was tall. Dancing was not one of my fortes, and being surrounded by great dancers only filled me with frustration because I knew I wasn’t nearly half as good as they were.
Unable to succeed at dance rehearsals, I would sit against the long mirrors and imitate my sister’s moves, with Barbie. I expressed my passion for dance by moving Barbie’s arms and legs in different positions. Barbie was capable of doing things I always dreamt of doing. Through her skinny little arms and flexible legs, I expressed myself hoping to one day become like her. Owning Ballerina Barbie gave me a sense of hope. Barbie could do anything, be anything, and through her, I thought I could too.

When my family first moved to the US, Barbie, once again, became my link to the things I wished I could do. Adapting to our new home seemed impossible and learning English became a full time job. My lack of understanding of this foreign language caused my sister and me to attend different schools. I attended a bilingual school where I would learn to master this new language, while she attended an all-English school. Her advanced level of comprehension discouraged my hopes of ever learning the new language.

At home and at school, I closed myself and mastered the art of mumbling. Perfecting my “expressing myself through Barbie” skills I began to speak “English.” Barbie would express my thoughts and feelings through a series of sounds and peculiar gestures. I saw Barbie as a gateway for doing all the things I only wished I could do. Whenever I felt like a task was impossible, I recruited to my all knowing, all doing: Barbie.

As I grew older, I came across challenges that forced me to face reality. When taking a test at school, I had to study and do well. When playing sports, I needed to get into shape and learn the new skills. Slowly I began to dig an abysm between my Barbie and my life. I began to take risks and came to the realization that if I wanted to accomplish anything in life, I had to do it myself. Looking back it seems unusual that someone would use a doll as form of expression. But for me, not only was she a form of expression, but also a factor in my life used to shut down reality. I was afraid of making mistakes and not living up to my sisters’ accomplishments. Her talents intimidated me and made me feel miniscule. Fortunately enough, she always encouraged me to try my hardest and to never give up. Even though Barbie provided me with a sense of accomplishment, she never gave me the love and encouragement my sister did. I love Toa and I’ve learned to look at her success as inspiration to attain my own individual talents and achievements.

Ciao, Hola, Hello, Hi

BING. BING. BING. The elevator was on the fifth floor. I stood there, in the first floor of my brick apartment building in Malden, Massachusetts; my new home in a diverse town just north of Boston. With sweaty palms and stiff legs, I waited for the number one to turn red, praying with all of my heart that a gringo, as we would stereotypically call them back home, wouldn’t show up. A gringo in Ecuador was famously known to be and American citizen with blond hair and blue eyes; but soon enough, the people of Malden contradicted this common belief.

BING. The gray doors opened. I rushed in and franticly pushed the number three. The doors suddenly reopened and a tall white male stepped in. My attempt to make it home alone had failed. “Hi”, said the man. Waiting for a response he stared at me, but no words were said. His intimidating eyes forced me to look down, and for one more time, I wished my parents had rented the apartment on the first floor. I knew that the elevator rides would be awkward and uncomfortable because of my lack of language comprehension. Hi, que significa esta palabra? I had attended a bilingual school in Ecuador prior my arrival where I had learned the American ABC’s and a few phrases that were supposed to make me feel like I actually spoke English. Hi? Por que no me lo habian ensenado antes? After flipping through the pages of my dictionary, I learned that this word was the equivalent of Hello.

Although I had expanded my vocabulary by learning the meaning of the word hi, I found myself incapable of mastering the English language. I felt ignorant in my ESL classes and for the first time in my life, I regretted moving. My inability to communicate and lack of friends caused me to isolate myself and depend on my toys for play dates. Ballerina Barbie became my best friend. I admired her for her multiple talents and I began to master the art of mumbling by pretending I was speaking in English with my perfect doll. I used Barbie as a gateway for doing all the things I only wished I could do.

My family stepped foot on American territory for the first time on September 11, 1999. My parents were convinced that moving to a different country, like previous times, would be a success. Unfortunately, the language barrier deprived me from adapting to my new home, I felt like an outsider, an alien. But I didn’t truly experience the life of an outcast until Middle Eastern terrorist bombed New York City. The country suffered a drastic change. Some Americans began to discriminate against immigrants, accusing them of bring terrorists. After September 11, 2001, I was no longer seen as just a foreigner, but an intruder as well. Although it was evident that I was not of Middle Eastern background, I felt discriminated as a Hispanic. I stopped speaking Spanish at school. Afraid of being judged I forced myself to learn English.

In my four years of high school, I’ve encountered a greater variety of cultures than I ever would have in any other country. Living in Malden for eight years has led me to question my own stereotypical definition of an American. Although growing up I was always exposed to different cultures, I had never seen a large quantity of people from different backgrounds all in one place. For the first time, I encountered Asians, Indians, and African Americans. This enriching exposure to diversity at my high school has developed a greater interest in foreign cultures and leads me to selecting International Relations as a field of study.

I just recently attended the “Issues of the 21st Century Conference” at Bucknell University. After listening to an inspiring presentation on Darfur by an International Relations major, and participating in a discussion with my Social Justice group on the matter, I have come to the realization that International Relations is something I truly and passionately want to pursue. Before the conference, my knowledge regarding the ways in which an International Relations major would allow me to help third world countries was limited. However, after meeting an inspiring example of someone with an IR major who has made a difference in the world just by sharing his knowledge with the students at the conference, I am confident that with my future education I will too make a remarkable difference in the world of education itself in order to pursue political and social change in countries like Darfur.