Category: Uncategorized

40 YEARS OLD, DAUGHTER OF THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC.

Growing Up

I was born in Brooklyn. My family migrated from the Dominican Republic, my dad in the late 70s and my mom in the early 80s. I have one younger brother, who is two years younger than me, and a sister, who is four years younger than me.

I grew up in a household where we spoke Spanish. The TV, radio, and all conversations around me were in Spanish. I didn’t learn to speak English until I started kindergarten, around the age of 5. I was in the English language immersion program, meaning I learned English by being immersed in an English-only classroom. I had to go through a learning curve to learn English and to be able to do my homework. These weren’t things my parents could necessarily support or assist me with. 

By the time my brother and sister started school, they were already fluent in English. That gave them an advantage. I helped them with their homework if they struggled and was even able to advocate for them at school. I helped pave a path for them. They had resources available to them that I didn’t have for myself. They turned to me when I had to turn to a neighbor, cousin, or uncle for help. But often, I figured it out on my own.

Some gendered norms and scripts exist, not just within Latin culture but broadly, nationally. There are gendered expectations of the eldest daughter that she has to contribute to domestic responsibilities like cooking, cleaning, and caretaking. 

As my siblings and I started to get older, my brother started getting more freedom and independence. Compared to me, he was allowed to hang out with friends, stay out later, and travel further. My parents had a shorter leash on me. They were strict with my curfew, where I could go, with whom, and for how long. He wasn’t expected to help out with chores or take care of our younger sister. I remember growing up thinking, “I want to do my own thing.”

Immigrant families really push the idea of education. I grew up very humble; my parents were low-wage workers, my mom was a nanny, and my dad was a cab driver. Their idea was that education was the way out of poverty and that they worked as hard as they did so that we could go to school and become professionals. Education was very big in our house, but they weren’t very encouraging of me going away for college. 

I’m a first-generation college student. I got my Ph.D. in psychology at the Graduate Center at CUNY, my M.A. at Hunter College, and my B.A. from Fordham University at Lincoln Center. I’m from New York, I did all my training in New York, and I never really left New York. That was never the case for my younger sister. Granted, she went to college still in New York State, but she was away in Syracuse. With me, I was the first one, and it was too hard for them. They didn’t want me to go away, even to Connecticut, and I got into the University of Hartford on a full-ride scholarship! With my sister, I was able to help advocate for her and let them see the benefits and advantages of her being able to go away to college. They loved the experience and being able to visit for the family weekend. And she also loved the experience of being away. 

I’m the first one in my family to go to college, but not the last. Both my siblings went to college and got graduate degrees. My brother has an M.P.A., Master’s in Public Administration, and my sister has an M.S.W., Master’s in Social Work, and she’s also a therapist. So, I’d like to think that I had a little something to do with influencing or shaping her career trajectory.

A lot of the pressure to set an example for my siblings was internally driven. I wanted to do. I wanted to perform well. I was studious, and academics came easily for me, so I think it was harder for my siblings at times. My parents always said, “Look at your sister. Look at what she’s done. She’s on a roll.”

My parents are super proud and over the moon. My dad is the cutest thing; he has a collection of college baseball caps of all the colleges we attended. It’s so cool. So now I’m adding to the collection with all the colleges I’ve taught at.

The Psychology behind Being the Eldest

The research behind birth order and behavioral patterns is, like, 100 years old, and the findings are all over the place and debated. Firstborns have a unique experience in that they’re an only child before they become a sibling. Whereas younger siblings never have that experience of being an only child. I was very young when I became a sibling, only 2 years old. I don’t recall that time, but I’m sure it made an impression on me. 

Being the oldest child, we often see a greater level of responsibility — taking on some of the caregiving, or being an assistant caregiver to younger siblings, with household responsibilities, also being able to share and knowing that we have to share our space and our parents’ affection and attention. These experiences allow us to be more independent and take more initiative.

Oftentimes in birth order research, we see that firstborn children tend to be high or overachieving and generally successful.

If caregivers are spread thin and over-rely on this older sibling to the point where the child is now taking on this parentified role, that can introduce undue stressors. They might have to figure out and navigate these on their own because they don’t have anyone else to turn to; maybe because they don’t feel like they can speak up on it for fear of adding burden or stress to an already stressed-out parent or caregiver. It can teach how to tolerate frustration and distress because one might have to sacrifice and compromise, having more opportunities to develop and hone stress response skills. In psychology, too much of anything is never good, and everything needs to be in moderation. 

There are differences based on sex or gender that can make things a little harder for females in particular. Especially when you factor in the oppressive systems under which we live. In our society, they expect so much of us. 

Stress and expectations can really push us to our edge. We can become overwhelmed by the anxiety or depression that could come or result from that. We can’t buy into the false idea of perfectionism. 

It’s important and helpful to be able to develop skills and strategies that can help navigate these unique stressors that result from the unique position that we’re in as eldests.

Being a Latina in Medicine

I’m in the field of clinical psychology. I’m a licensed psychologist, but I’m not currently practicing. Right now, I’m researching but teaching individual counseling theory and process to Master’s in Mental Health Counseling students at NYU. During my classes, we go over different therapy frameworks, one of which is Adlerian therapy, and a big component of that is birth order.

My curiosity about being in medicine started with trying to understand people and how our experiences, environment, social, and cultural context shape us. I want an understanding of who we are, how we interact with other people, and how we engage and navigate the world. I took one intro to psychology course in my undergrad and just loved it.

A big help for first-gen Latinas in medicine would be more mentorship. I credit my mentors for a big part of my success. All of my mentors were Latina or women of color, and I don’t think I’d be where I am without them. They were not only able to help me navigate academia, the health and research field, but also to balance personal and work life. Being a woman of color in medicine, a mom, and a caregiver of elderly parents — things that are part of our lives but that we might not necessarily talk about in professional settings, and definitely don’t learn about in our classes. Networking is important. Not just networking for the sake of advancing one’s professional goals, but also to build community and to feel supported, seen, heard, and valued.

I take being a Latina in medicine with great responsibility and pride. As busy as things are right now, I knew how important this was. Providing similar support, mentorship, and guidance to the next generation so that we can continue to grow. I want it to feel less lonely for the next generation. Hopefully, we can get to a point where “how do you feel representing Latinas in medicine?” won’t be a question anymore because there’ll be so many of us in the field.

This story has been edited and condensed from an interview.

20 YEARS OLD, DAUGHTER OF ECUADOR.

Immigrating to the United States

We came here when I was 17 so I could go to college. For us, the language and the culture were the hardest things to adapt to. There’s a different culture here, a different mindset. We faced some racism since we weren’t familiar with the language. At home, back in Ecuador, the culture and society we lived in were so different. I’m from the countryside, and we barely have buildings. There’s a house, plants, animals, and maybe if you drive 15 more minutes, you’ll find another house. So being in New York is so different. 

Most of the household chores fall on me, especially taking care of my sister. Since there’s a 12-year age gap between us, I was another mother to her. I help her with her homework, and since we’ve come to the United States, I go with her to some ESL classes. Even though there’s a 5-year age gap between my brother and me, I’m a woman, so all of the chores still fall on me. I clean, cook for them, and make sure my siblings are doing well in school while also making sure they keep up with their small chores. I feel like the leader of my house. We don’t live with my father, but my mom works and studies. So, in order to help her, I took on a lot of household roles.

The adjustment from Ecuador to the United States was difficult. We don’t have the same support as we did back home. No uncles, aunts, or cousins. Back there, I wasn’t overwhelmed; we had a community. Of course, there are cultural stereotypes where the women in Latino households always take care of the house and the children. But I feel like when I was growing up in Ecuador, there was more support there since we had family. Here, it’s only the four of us. It’s harder because you have to prioritize family and school at the same time.

A Latina in Medicine

I’m double-majoring in psychology and biochemistry, and hopefully getting my M.D. or Ph.D. At first, I was focusing purely on getting an M.D., but I didn’t know how long the process actually was. You have to get your bachelor’s, take a gap year for the MCAT, and then there’s applying to medical school. I still want to explore that road. Currently, I’m working in a translational lab. It’s interesting being a Ph.D. and being able to go into translational research, targeting minorities and showing the science and data. I’m not sure, but I feel like I see myself maybe working in both an office and a laboratory. 

I feel like having mentorship programs would help other first-generation medical students so much. I think a lot of mentorship programs seem too prestigious or something that not everyone can get the knowledge about. Having an organization, or a website with the information — which classes you need to take, the requirements, meetings, free or scholarship-based English lessons — would help so much. Most of us first-gen students came here without knowing the resources. I’m trying to find a route where I can go somewhere for free, but it’s still expensive. I know I’m probably going to have to take out student loans because there isn’t a lot of funding available. There’s no organization supporting that, so I might join the Army. I just wish there were more organizations to support Latina immigrants who want to go into medicine.

There are so many young Latinas in the medical field, which we need. We need more people in the Hispanic/Latino community to become physicians and give back. Unfortunately, there is a bias from Latinos who feel like they can’t be treated by someone who doesn’t know Spanish. In my volunteer work in the inpatient department at Elmhurst Hospital, most Latinos and Hispanic people feel more confident when speaking to someone who knows their language. They’ll point to me and say to their nurses, ‘Her, mija! I want her. No me entiendes. Ella entiende todo.’ I’m thankful for that, that they feel comfortable with me. It feels like I can target what they need exactly, without them having to cover or simplify their needs or symptoms. 

It’s a pleasure to represent my country in healthcare. I want to break stigmas about Latinos in healthcare, especially immigrants. I want to inspire the younger generation, like my little sister, and to show them that maybe it’s not that difficult and hard. Of course, I’m not going to change the world, but I want to make small changes. Small changes that will lead to good changes over time.

Being the Eldest

Every day, I feel pressure to set an example for my brother and sister. Yes, there are small things like saying something that my sister might repeat, but mostly because I’m in charge of them. They spend a lot of time with me. And especially my sister, she’s a copy and paste of me. I have to be very careful with my actions if I want to do something because she’ll do the same thing. 

In the first years we were in the U.S., there was so much pressure, almost too much. I was working and had to drop some classes. But throughout the semesters, I met with different people, and we built a community. With them, I have the support I need and peers to study with. Finding people who are struggling with the same issues that I have has been helpful. I always feel the pressure, but I can’t complain because I’m lucky to have this pressure. I know there are people back in Ecuador who aren’t able to study at college and don’t have the money for it. They’re amazing students who aren’t able to have the same opportunities I have. 

I’m the first person in my family to go to college. It was hard to convince my mom, especially when I had to take late classes. She always tried to make me drop the class or take it in other semesters. But I had no choice, of course, it’s the prerequisites that have the worst class times. My mom even tried to convince me to graduate later. It’s hard for her to understand what I’m doing at school. I’m trying to show her that I’m not doing this because I don’t want to be at home, I’m doing this to benefit all of us. I don’t want her to keep working until she’s in her 60s. I want her support now so I can support her later. 

But my mom always mentioned to me that a career is the best, most important thing to have. Later in life, you can start thinking about having a family. Seeing it from her perspective, I know now she wanted to go to college but couldn’t. She makes sure that all of her kids understand that education is first and that, since we have this amazing opportunity in the U.S., we need to take advantage of that. 

Some semesters, I take the minimum amount of credits I can take to support my family, and I only have classes three days a week. My work is very flexible, I’m only working 10 hours a week. I try to get home by like 6 p.m. so I can cook. My brother and sister are in after-school programs, so I don’t have to leave before then to pick them up. I try to manage deadlines the best I can. But I know sometimes I won’t be able to volunteer or do things I want to do. Sometimes I don’t sleep because it’s hard to manage everything. I keep reminding myself that every effort I put in now will be rewarded.

This story has been edited and condensed from an interview.

21 YEARS OLD, DAUGHTER OF MEXICO.

Growing Up

My parents separated when I was in elementary school. My mom would work overnight, and throughout the day, so I stepped in and took care of my little sister. My mom would leave containers of food for us, so I’d heat it, do my own homework, and help my sister with hers. My mom didn’t know much English at the time, so I taught myself a lot. I was responsible for helping my sister, and I do still love helping her, even though she’s 18 now. For most of my life, it was just my sister and me alone in the house.

Our parents’ expectations for us vary. When I was younger, my parents were always expecting me to do something that would give us money, whether it was healthcare, or law, anything that would ensure my future ends in good money. Something that would bother me when I was a kid was the same standards not being held for my sister. They didn’t really care which career she did. She wanted to do something artistic or in the arts. It just felt unfair that they had more expectations for me. 

My sister is a freshman in college now, and she’s also on a Pre-Health track. Recently, she told my parents she’s considering switching her major to something in teaching. My parents were supportive. It made me think about my past experiences, especially as a freshman in college, and how many times, until now, I wanted to drop out of Pre-Health because it’s difficult. I was, and still am, so afraid to disappoint my parents. So even now, I really don’t know how to handle the guilt I feel. 

I still see the difference in expectations. They’ll send me anything that they need help with, government things, or mail in general. Sometimes I tell my parents, ‘Why do you send it to just me? My sister’s right here, and she’s 18, she knows what she’s doing too!’ But nothing changes, which makes me feel like they just depend on me.

School and Home

Just recently, I came to terms with the fact that life is not always gonna turn out the way that I wanted it to. Coming to Hunter College has been so difficult, and the school’s Pre-Health department is challenging.

Before I came to Hunter College, I went to Westchester Community College. I’m honest with everyone who asks me why I came to Hunter; I’ll always tell them that it was because of financial reasons. Because I figured that if I was going to go into medicine, medical school, or dental school, I was going to have to take out a lot of loans. And if I’m being honest, my family does not have that money. So I figured it’s better to just go free for undergrad and then take out the loans when I really need them for medical school. I know that for medical school, there’s not a lot of financial help. I’m going to Hunter for free. Private colleges can be like $40,000 a semester and above, and I cannot afford to do that.

I commute from White Plains. Before, being in college while also staying at home would stress me out a lot. It was really just me handling things at home, but now I’m used to it. I can handle both school and home life. I mean, it still does stress me out sometimes, but like I said, with time, I just got used to it, and I kind of learned how to control my feelings and stress.

My mom has a lot of health issues, and that’s something that pushed me into the medical field. She was diagnosed with the beginning stages of what could be cancer and has also had a stroke. Also, a lot of my relatives have diabetes. I have an aunt in Mexico who’s a nurse, and other family members on my dad’s side who are in the medical field. Although I don’t really talk to them, everyone in medicine has inspired me to follow in their footsteps. I wanted to do something different from nursing, and I find dentistry so interesting. 

I’m the social media manager at the Latino Medical Student Association (LMSA) club. We host events targeted for Latino Pre-Health students, but it’s not just limited to them; anyone can join. Sometimes the events aren’t necessarily Pre-Health related. We’ve had bachata, cumbia nights, and other events that help students get distracted from school. You get to meet people, too. We have a connection with Weill-Cornell Medical Center, and medical students from there come to talk with us. It’s a way for Hunter students to get an inside look at what life is like for medical students and to hear their experiences and advice.

LMSA has helped me a lot, find a community as a Latino. Because when I first came here, I felt like one of my worries was that I wasn’t going to be able to find a place where I was going to be comfortable or someone that I could relate to. Coming to Hunter and joining LMSA kind of allowed me to find that comfort. I became friends with the people there. We’re all Latino and going into similar careers. This club has helped me find other people who understand me.

It means a lot to me to represent Mexicans and Mexican Americans in medicine. At least where I live, there’s barely any Latinos. Growing up, I would always have to translate as well when going to doctor appointments. Translating for my mom was tough since I didn’t know what everything they were telling me meant. 

I hope that in the future, I will be able to help little children see themselves in this career and someone who looks like them to ease medical anxiety. I want to be the type of person who helps another person see, “Oh, it’s possible to do this,” or “I’m not alone in this.”

Family Expectations

My parents brag about me to everyone, even when I think I do horribly. But I don’t tell them that. My mom is still stuck on me getting honor roll in middle and high school. She goes around saying, like, ‘My daughter is really smart, she has straight As!’ I’m like, ‘Mom, wait, I’m in college now. That’s not at all like that anymore!’ My dad recently told me that he told one of his co-workers that I am studying biology, and his co-worker’s response was always really good. He told me how proud he is of me. So they’re still flexing me to their friends.

When I was younger, my mom would tell me that I had to be better than her and that I had to show my sister. Now, I find myself telling my sister to be better than me.

Finding Zen

I try to relax. I like to just walk around and take pictures. I found that one of my hobbies, an artistic hobby, is photography. It sounds kind of cringe, but I like to make TikToks, like just randomly. I’m a graphic designer for a lot of the clubs that I’m in — I love art and marketing. I was even thinking at one point to change my major to something like that, but I’ll just take it where I’m at right now.

I’ve disappointed myself a lot. As I said, in middle school and high school, I had good grades, and coming to Hunter, I’m like, ‘Wait, this is not me. These grades aren’t me.’ Right now, I’m living life in its current state and not stressing out so much about the future. Also, I learned that the future is, it’s important, but you can’t think about it all the time. I need to calm down and live in the moment, in the present.

This story has been edited and condensed from an interview.

22 YEARS OLD, DAUGHTER OF BOLIVIA.

Growing Up 

I have a very small family, just me, my mom, my grandma, and a couple of uncles. My grandma is the one who brought my mom and me to the United States. Growing up, I felt a little lonely. We were in Cochabamba, Bolivia, until I was 10. My mom was a single mom, so when we all came here, it was a huge transition. We didn’t know the language or the culture when we came to Queens; it was just a lot. 

My mom had me when she was 20, and it felt like I had to take care of her. I was always described as the well-behaved, good kid who gets good grades. They didn’t have to worry about me. I felt like I had to take care of everyone else when we came to the U.S., rather than anybody taking care of me. I was mostly on my own growing up and had to figure things out on my own. My family only had my mom and my grandparents. They were always tough on me, just to get me ready for the adult world.

My mom went to college and medical school back in Bolivia. She’s a certified doctor back there, but due to accreditation issues coming here, she’s not able to practice medicine like that. She’s a medical assistant now. My mom is my inspiration for going into the medical field. I remember her taking me during her residency to the hospitals and clinics in Bolivia because she didn’t have a babysitter. I saw firsthand how she would speak to the patients and how she would calm them down.

School and Sisterhood

I’m a psychology student at Hunter College with a minor in Women & Gender Studies, and I really want to get my M.D./Ph. D. In my sophomore year of college, I started volunteering at this research lab. My mentor there guided me through the world of research, is the one that opened my eyes to it. I did a research internship at the University of Rochester, which was just a lot of exposure, and that’s where I learned to love the research aspect of medicine. I’m not only a full-time student, but I also do part-time work as a lab technician at a research lab, and volunteer work at a mixed martial arts school. 

I also take care of my 2-year-old sister. I’m her second parent. We have the same mom, but different dads. Her dad is still around, but he doesn’t take the responsibilities that a father should. So I step up instead. If there’s an issue at her daycare, if they can’t reach my mom or my grandparents, they’ll call me. As of recently, they’ve just been calling me first. 

I try to be there as much as I can with the busy schedule I have. If anything, it’s more mentally demanding than physically demanding. Her daycare expects me to fix any issues regarding my sister. If she needs diapers, food for school, or signing notices, everything just revolves around me, and it’s difficult because I’m not always able to succeed in what needs to be done for her.

Sometimes I get scolded by my family, ‘You’re the big sister. You should be handling this. We can’t handle this, so you have to.’ Especially since there’s a language barrier with my grandparents and my mom, too. Unfortunately, my grandparents started to forget English. In their eyes, if I don’t find a way to succeed or be of service to them, then I’m just a failure, not only as a big sister but as the oldest daughter. They have high expectations. 

I know she’s still very young, but I know as a psych major that younger siblings tend to have more love and support than the oldest sibling doesn’t get. I’m starting to see it now, even though she’s a toddler.

My family feels like, with the major I chose, I’m wasting my time. They think, ‘You’re majoring in psychology, but you don’t want to be a psychologist or psychiatrist, so why are you wasting your time with it?’ In terms of getting an M.D., they think that I don’t have the stomach for it. They think I’m not a people person. With research, they’re proud, they’re happy that I’m loving research. I know they secretly hope that I realize that I want to be a scientist rather than a doctor. As much as I’ve heard them hear those things, they don’t really know me and my dreams.

I started talking with close friends, and they reminded me that, at the end of the day, she’s my sister and not my daughter. I believe it has come to a point that they pressure us, eldest daughters, with this big responsibility, so that it seems like it’s our own child. As much as I love my mom and sister, and respect my family, I have to remind myself that she’s not my daughter, she’s my sister. I feel so guilty, though. I try to remind myself I’m doing the best that I can, and I have to live my own life. I’m in school, and I’m working two jobs to help me reach my career goal. I am doing the best that I can to be there for my sister, while also not losing track of what’s important in my career.

Toward a Career in Medicine

I still am on the journey of finding a reason why I want to be a doctor. I don’t want to say I want to help people or heal people because you can help people and heal people in many different ways. Growing up in a Latino household, I was always told I had to be a lawyer or an engineer. They’ll glorify you if you become a doctor– because if you’re not a doctor, ‘no sirves, para nada.’

I feel like what I want to do, overall, is make a good impact on people’s lives and give them some form of hope. I tend to see the brightest or the ‘glitter side’ of everything, like glitter and rainbows. Well, maybe I just want to give them a sense of hope and have a good impact on people’s lives. 

I wasn’t handed anything, and everything that I have achieved so far in my short adult life, I’ve gotten it on my own. I didn’t have mom help me out or grandma help me out because, unfortunately, being first-gen, they can’t really help me out. I was lucky enough to get almost all my financial aid to cover tuition. Thank God for that. But I feel like medical school is going to be a different situation. I wouldn’t know how I’m going to handle that. Maybe take a gap year or two to work full-time as a medical assistant. I’ll start saving up money then. I know I’m gonna have to take out loans. 

The best guidance that I’ve gotten was from another first-gen student when I first got accepted to college. They told me to go to the college that is going to help me out the most, financially. A lot of first-gen students want to shoot for Harvard, Yale, and all those big private universities. My friend told me, if you are seeking higher education, like grad school, med school, whatever it is, go to a school that’s gonna help you financially rather than break you financially. I feel like my sister will have a bigger advantage, which I’m happy about, but at the same time, I hope she learns to earn everything on her own, too.

Being Alone

Sometimes when it feels like I can’t talk to anybody about it. I focus on my hobby. I practice mixed martial arts. I focus on that, on my technique, and improving, or just helping others through the sport. That’s the best way that I can deal. 

I usually just close myself in my room and watch movies on my own. I’m always surrounded by people, whether it’s at home, school, or work. I like my time alone just to gather myself and be in my own space, also to reflect on whatever happened during the day.

I feel like a lot of older daughters do that: We thrive when we’re alone in our rooms. We need space from everyone and everything to do our own thing, where we’re not always watched or pressured to be this perfect, mature young woman that everybody expects us to be. 

I wish I could tell that 10-year-old girl who came from Bolivia that, when you feel like things are getting rough, do not get stuck on it. It’s okay to ask for help. You’re gonna get through it, and you’re gonna figure it out. 

I’ve gone through a rough couple of years, falling so deep down that I broke into a million pieces, and I would just tell her, ‘It’s gonna happen.’ It’s a part of life, but you have to learn to get up and move forward. Even if nobody understands, take as long as you want. Even if they think you’re crazy, wasting your time, or that you don’t know what you’re doing. They don’t need to understand that it’s your life and it’s you who needs to know who’s doing that work. Nobody else is going to understand outside of you. But if you see the progress, you see that you’re moving forward, even though other people think you’re still in the same place. Moving forward is what matters.

This story has been edited and condensed from an interview.

65 YEARS OLD, DAUGHTER OF PUERTO RICO.

Growing Up

Everything fell on me because I was the oldest one, the oldest of nine. When it came to discipline, it was the same. We all got ‘chancleta,’ we got the belt, everything. But as far as household responsibilities, everything fell on the girls.

At the age of 8, I was already doing rice and beans and taking care of my siblings. My parents owned a bodega down the block, but it was more like a huge supermarket. They used to work there 12 to 16 hours a day, so I had to watch out for all the kids. Cook for my mom, clean the house, and help with homework. We weren’t allowed to go out and had to stay in our apartment. 

My father was an alcoholic. There were times when he’d drive home from running the bodega all day and would fall asleep in the car in front of the apartment. My mother used to wake me up and tell me, “Go get your dad because I’m not waking him.” My dad used to weigh, maybe, 200 pounds. I used to have this man leaning against my little body, bring him into bed, undress him, take his gun from him, and unload it at the age of 9. 

When you’re young, you really don’t see anything wrong with it. You’re in it already. So, might as well just be comfortable with it. And then after that, that’s when it hits you, and you’re like, Wow, why did I have this responsibility being this young?

A Teenage Mother

I got pregnant at 15. I thought I was ready for it, because in a way, I had already gone through motherhood. So I felt like I already knew what to do when taking care of a baby. But I told my boyfriend, Luis, ‘I don’t know how we’re gonna face this.’

My mother had already started the procedure to send me to a home for troubled teens. She said she would rather see me in a home than see me have a boyfriend. We made a plan fast. The day they were supposed to come to take me away, we got plane tickets and flew to Puerto Rico.

I called my mom, but she didn’t want to speak to me. Nobody in New York wanted to speak to me. I called her and asked her for my birth certificate because Luis and I were getting married. I guess that made it a bit easier when she realized that I was getting married and wouldn’t be a single mom. But I missed my brothers, I missed my dad. My father had started getting sick; he had heart problems during that time, and they eventually had to sell the store.

Marie was born in Arecibo, Puerto Rico, in August 1975. What shocked me the most was when she was diagnosed with hip dysplasia. I was young, and I didn’t know what to do. We only noticed that she had a problem with her leg when my mom came to visit around six months after she was born. We went back to New York to get treatment for her leg.

Before my dad died, when I had just come back to New York for Marie’s treatment, he took responsibility for her. I was a minor, and he took guardianship of her. The day we stepped into the hospital with Marie, they admitted her. She had the casts on her legs, and my dad had heart problems, so I was constantly in the hospital going between them. 

During Marie’s treatment, that’s when my father passed away. My mother was a widow at 37. After he died, we went back to Puerto Rico. I had my second daughter, Jari, in July of 1978. 

Eventually, we had to come back to Brooklyn. I drove a school bus, worked in a factory, and was a security guard at JFK. I never had plans to come back to Brooklyn, and definitely had no plans to move to Staten Island. But we got evicted from our apartment. We had put in an application with the Department of Housing and got the apartment in West Brighton soon after.

Community

I used to take my kids to the dental office, and the secretary asked me if I wanted to work for the doctor. I had no experience, not even a high school diploma, and I didn’t have anyone to watch my kids. I was still married, and at that point, I had three kids, but she kept on calling me for two weeks. She’d say, “Dr. Lasky is waiting; he still wants you. He says you’re capable and he’ll train you.” So I gave it a try.

And no lie, two weeks after I started, I became a single mom. 

When I first started as a dental assistant, my hands used to shake. I was right-handed, and everything had to be done left-handed: giving him the instruments and the movements you have to do with your fingers. But I learned it. He showed me how to put a crown in, sharpen the tooth down, do impressions, and cement teeth. 

I was in my early twenties, living in the projects where they worked the rent based on your income. I was making $100 a week, and when I became a single mom, Dr. Lasky gave me a bit extra. I went on welfare, and we had food stamps. 

I almost quit my job because I didn’t have anyone to watch my kids. But Dr. Lasky didn’t let me. He said, “Bring the kids to the office. They can do their homework here. Your two daughters could help out here, and your son can hang out in my office. You don’t need to pay for a babysitter.” The girls would take X-rays, take out the trash, and file charts. And he paid them too, so that helped us a bit.

Dr. Lasky helped me when Jari went to college; he let me borrow his brand new car, a BMW, so I could move her in. I always had the opportunity to leave, but it was so convenient. It was right across the street from the projects. What else could I ask for? No money for transportation, no lunch money, no commute. The only bad commute was in the ice and snow. He trusted me so much, and the patients did too. I worked there for 20 years.

There are people in there who will stand with you. Miss Brown would watch all the kids; she was the grandma of the projects. If she said, “Stop,” you stop. And if she said, “Jump,” you’d say, “How high?” Pops had the corner store across the street. He had an IOU notebook, and you’d pay him monthly. I remember going in there one day, and he told me, ‘I know you’re a single mom, I know you’re by yourself. Pay me whenever and whatever you have. If you have $1, bring that in, and I’ll write down what you owe me at the end of the month. I’m here to help the community.’ He gave you whatever you wanted, not only food, but anything in the store. There were times we were short on rent, and I would go around asking people to lend me money. Ramon, a bodega owner, would help me: “I’ll give you $100, you give me back $110.”

I did what I had to do the right way. None of my kids had to go steal anything from anybody to get something to eat. We used to like a bag of 10 or 20 chicken wings for $2, where are you gonna get that now? We used to have dinners that, forget it, rich people won’t have. And we didn’t have money. Have you ever had white rice with ketchup? Try it. 

A lot of people think that living in the projects is for low-lifes or for people who aren’t going to get anywhere. And you know, it’s amazing how many people who are professionals come out of the projects. There are lawyers, doctors, and you get all kinds of people from there. Like Jari’s a DAISY Award-winning nurse! They know what struggle is, they see it, and they say, ‘I’m not gonna do that. I’m gonna go to school.’ Jari was the first member of the whole family to go to college. It shocked people because they thought my kids weren’t going to go anywhere since they were the ones raised in the projects by a single mom. 

Sometimes I regret getting married at a young age, I’m not gonna lie. I got divorced, remarried, and had two more kids. I wanted to become a nurse, but I didn’t get to do that. God blessed me with a daughter who’s a nurse and one who’s a physician assistant. Sometimes I sit down and say, “How did we do it?”

This story has been edited and condensed from an interview.