“To be a better writer, you have to read.” That’s what my teachers always told me growing up. But why would I want to do that? Eleven-year-old me was already so busy with school, homework, soccer practice, swim team practice, and playing an instrument. I barely had any time for myself. To me, picking up a book felt like a dreadful chore.
The house I grew up in was very close to a used bookstore. My mom loved to visit it and would sometimes take my brothers and me along for the ride. She loved to read, but I never understood why. While she would spend hours carefully looking through shelf after shelf of historical fiction books, my brothers and I would be in the movie section. One day, however, I decided to look at the books in the children’s area. My eyes scanned the spines of countless novels until they reached a book with a bright blue cover. My tiny hands removed Esperanza Rising from the shelf, and I began to read the back cover. My mom was thrilled when I asked her if I could take a book home that day instead of a DVD.
That same evening, I got into bed and flipped to the first page. Immediately, I was hooked. Not only did young Esperanza’s strength stand out to me, but the book included some words in Spanish that I wanted to understand more than anything. What was a ‘Granja’ anyway? My curiosity pulled me all the way to the end of her story. But little did I know, closing that book opened up a whole new chapter of my life.
Reading became my passion, my escape, and my motivation to move forward. My drive to learn more and more about the world got me through middle school, high school, and a six-hour plane ride by myself to Salamanca, Spain. I had always dreamed of studying abroad. Taking classes in my favorite language, learning about culture, and exploring a whole different country seemed like the perfect adventure for me. There was just one problem: my fear of loneliness. I was terrified of the fact that I knew nobody going on that trip. There were many moments in Salamanca when I had to make decisions on my own. I had to turn to the ‘independence’ chapter of my book and start reading, no matter how badly I was avoiding it. To my surprise, I actually enjoyed going out and exploring on my own. Studying in Salamanca not only improved my Spanish skills, but it allowed me to go outside my comfort zone and prove to myself that I can be self-reliant.
After returning to the United States, I couldn’t help but think about what I wanted to pursue in the future. After all, I was about to enter my junior year of college. Luckily, my Integrative Experience class with Professor Luis Marentes helped me to read into different opportunities based on my interests. Taking that course changed my perspective on what I wanted to do post-graduation. I have always wanted to teach English as a second language and help students who have immigrated to the US who may not have as many resources or opportunities. After all, I was a peer mentor for some of the English as a second language students in my high school. However, after learning about the conflict some students experience in Holyoke, the culture shock of either visiting or moving to a new country, and the support that different organizations need to help the community, my perspective on my future changed. Suddenly, I was back to square one. After careful consideration, I decided to read into going abroad again.
On January twenty-fifth, I will start reading the chapter of my life that takes place in Granada, Spain. I am hoping that staying there for an entire semester to study will help me learn more about myself, the world, and what I want to do in the future. While I will be taking a few classes toward my Spanish degree, I will also be participating in an internship in educational facilities. I am determined to figure out if I still want to teach in the future or not, and I think that the internship will help me to decide that. As much as I love studying language, I have other passions. I want to engage with the community, learn about local environmental impacts, learn about music and dance, and discover new information about the world and myself.
Although it has been over ten years since my teachers began to remind me of the importance of reading, I finally understand what they mean. How can someone write a book about something if they do not know how? Reading isn’t just the act of interpreting the words on the pages in front of you. Reading is living. Experiencing. Trying something new. If I had never picked up Esperanza Rising, I would have never discovered my love for language at such an early age. If I never went outside my comfort zone in Salamanca, I would not have become more independent. Every single experience I have is like reading a chapter in a book. Sooner than later, I hope the pen falls into my hand so I can begin to write my own story of the future.