This one is a bit long, so I've broken them down here👇
CONTENTS
Had a virtual meeting with some Hispanic parents wanting to help their kids with their college aspirations today.
A lady from Colombia named Jenny had joined these meetings since 2020, when her daughter started the 4th or 5th grade (can't recall). Not only was she passionate and hopeful for her daughter's future, she confessed the fear to give her daughter the wrong information (as in wrong for her personally).
I couldn't help but both envy her and her daughter. Envy her daughter, of course, because she had a parent who was active in helping the humongous task of college applications, but also envious of Jenny. Jenny is an immigrant mother with no college degree, living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania - yet here she was: brave in the face of her fears and limitations.
In response, I shared my own fears and limitations. I described putting my oxygen mask on first, how impossibly difficult the journey felt and was, feeling I had failed to help my sisters in their own pursuits, how my brother signed up for school all on his own and still had no support from me at all, and how I wanted to help the youngest sisters in lieu of my many years not giving three of siblings zero legs up, even if all I did was ask them questions of how things were working out for them, so long as I asked often, plenty, and timely.
Like my own mother might do, Jenny spoke up to say that, even though I felt I didn't do anything for my brother (seeing clearly how bad I felt about it), I did do something - and it was no little thing either. She said that I did it first, and I did it alone, (namely, without my parent's administrative and financial support), and i completed it.
I almost broke down.
Continuing to threaten a breach in my building emotions, she added that she saw me, she appreciated what I wanted to offer to my high school age sisters because she said she totally understood where it came from. She continued to encourage me and closed her schpiel by saying that my soul was beautiful.
As tears were welling up, I knew I could not speak. I knew I would NOT be capable of it if I tried. Instead, I felt I would most certainly bawl every cry I had ever suppressed ever in my entire life all at once, so I didn't say anything. I smiled and used my hands to create heart signs.
My eyes burned from the sweat that mixed with the hot tears building up, and I tried to sit in that feeling of connection for as long as I could.
After the virtual event, I finally allowed my sobs to fill the hallways of my home.
…
It was heavy 🪨