In 2015, I met my mini-me. I was fourteen, she was eight. We met at her home outside the city of San Pedro de Macorís, Dominican Republic, on an enclosed campus that houses over 200 disadvantaged children. Despite our age gap, I felt more connected to this child than to most of my friends. We met on a sunny morning after my eighth grade class arrived for a week of service. We were on a tour of the home when two little girls snuck up beside us, giggling to each other. One of them was my mini-me. She grabbed my hand and I asked her, “¿Cómo te llamas?” It was that simple question that sparked a now five-year relationship. We never left each others’ sides for the rest of the week, building our friendship through nothing more than the basic Spanish I knew and shared human experiences that didn’t require language. It was a unique combination. I was appreciative that most of our activities didn’t require us to speak. Heading into the trip, I was fearful that that only words would allow me to bond with the children, but I was quickly proven wrong. My mini-me and I walked around the terreno hand-in-hand, we played countless games of tic tac toe, and she painted my nails five different colors. Still, I asked her simple questions and she gave me simple answers. I struggled to find words and she filled in the blanks. There were times when oral communication was necessary but too difficult, and we had to resort to physical gestures.

Though our paths crossing seemed merely serendipitous, it was destiny. My mini-me and I couldn’t differ more in physical appearance, but something about the look in our eyes, our expressions, our demeanor, told us we were the same. We clicked, and we didn’t need fluent conversations to prove that. Because we couldn’t speak freely, I honed in on my observation skills to get to know this child and connect with her. I knew she faced hardship, but my observations wouldn’t have told me that. She represented everything but hardship. She was cheerful, silly, sneaky, witty. She lit up the room, wherever she was. When the week was over, I noticed my language and comprehension skills had improved marginally; it was possible to get the gist of a sentence without understanding every single word, and I knew that was enough. But when I reflected on the week, it was the moments that didn’t use language that stood out to me. The observations and moments of genuine human connection stuck with me far more than any basic Spanish I expressed.

I took a trip to her home each succeeding year through 2019. My Spanish improved each year, but even by my senior year of high school, I couldn’t converse with perfect fluency. It certainly got easier, but I still relied heavily on observation, on the moments of silence when we weren’t American or Dominican, just human. I viewed Spanish as a vessel to facilitate the connections I made, but I never relied on it to provide them for me. I think that is the value of the trips I took to the Dominican Republic: they were chances for me to work on my Spanish-speaking abilities, which I am thankful for, but they were mainly opportunities to immerse myself in a different culture and put myself in uncomfortable situations that forced me to be creative in the ways I connect with others. That is the true value of the time spent there, and that value translates easily to the work I want to do at UMass and beyond.

I like working with people. I want to work with people and connect with them just like I’ve connected with the children at NPH DR. I find fulfillment in collaboration, even though I thrive working independently, too. I’ve always considered Spanish as a way to expand my connections, as it provides the potential to communicate with so many more people than I otherwise would be able to, but I’m also optimistic about the future connections I will make with people regardless of any language barriers. My time in the DR largely shaped my outlook on this, allowing me to realize that, while I do hope to achieve fluency, I don’t necessarily need it in order to find meaningful work and experiences that utilize Spanish. I think that’s the beauty in studying Spanish. I am working towards the ultimate goal of fluency, but I can recognize the opportunities that the study offers me beyond the lexicon. Cultural and integrative experiences that give me the chance to form strong human connections are what I look forward to in my next two years at UMass and in my career after graduating. I am confident that experiences such as Big Brothers Big Sisters and/or studying abroad will foster my ability to further develop connections with others. I look forward to jumping head-first into those endeavors whenever they arise.