“Pero no quiero ir Mama, I don’t want to go!”
“We have to, mija; it’s for the best.”
“Papi will get another job, Mama! Why can’t we just stay?”
“I’m sorry, mija. We have to.”

My name is Esmeralda, I am 10 years old, and I am from Tijuana, Mexico. My dad’s name is Jose and my mom’s name is Alicia. I have four brothers: Omar, Carlos, Cristian, and Adrian.
My mother just told me we are moving to the U.S because Papi lost his job at the sanderia, the watermelon factory. Pero yo no quiero ir, I do not want to go. I do not know how to speak very accurate English. When I speak English I have a very hispanic accent. What will people think when they see me? Why can’t we just stay here? But it’s too late. We hopped onto the truck and drove off.

“Wake up Esme!” Mami shouted, “We have to go now!”
I rapidly woke up, very frightened. “Que esta pasando Omar, what is going on?”
“La migra, immigration, they have found us and we have to go!” Omar said.
We jumped out of the truck. Papi and Carlos got the backpacks, and we ran and hid in a cactus surrounded by bushes. I was very terrified--sweat was racing down the sides of my face.

We stayed hidden for three hours. Papi finally looked out and said, “Ya se fueron, they have left.” We all got up slowly and started walking back toward the truck. There was a young lady with a baby in her arms. We drove for hours. Suddenly the truck stopped. We began to hear footsteps--it was as if the whole earth stood still for a slight minute, and all I could hear was my heart racing. CLICK. The door unlocked. “Ya llegamos, we are here,” the driver said as he helped us all out. When I jumped off the truck I saw a clear blue sky, the bright sun, I felt warmth as the heat bounced off my tan skin. I looked around and saw children running, laughing and families in their backyards barbecuing, and a big blue sign that read “WELCOME TO LOS ANGELES.”
“Oh Mija! We have finally arrived! Isn’t it beautiful?” Mama said, her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes, Mama, it is beautiful,” I replied with amazement.
“Let us go, Maria is waiting” said Papi.
Maria was Papi’s sister; she was waiting for us to arrive. We traveled another hour before we finally arrived at Maria’s house. When we got to her house she ran up to me kissing my face.
“Oh Esme, how I have missed you,” Maria said “Come inside we have much to talk about.”

The next morning I awoke. It was now Sunday; everyone was outside talking and eating.
“Oh good morning Esme, care to join us for breakfast?” Omar said with a grin.
I sat down; we were eating huevos con chorizo. Eggs with chorizo. After we were done I went inside with Mami and Aunt Maria to help them wash dishes, while the guys were outside playing football.
“So Esme, how do you feel about the neighborhood?” Aunt Maria asked.
“Oh my, It is absolutely wonderful, Tia,” I replied.
“Are you excited to start school tomorrow?” She asked.
“What! No! Mama, what is she talking about? You didn’t tell me I had to go to school! The other kids will make fun of me! No Mama, I will not go!” I said.
“I am sorry, Esme, but you will go. It is for the best. You need to proceed your education,” Mama said.
I began crying. I did not want to start school because I knew the kids would make fun of me.

Today’s Monday and I am in the office. The principal called my mom.
“Hello Mrs. Ramirez, I need you to come to the school as soon as you can concerning your daughter. She has gotten in a fight with another girl at our school. We fear that your daughter may face bullying problems because of her appearance and background,” he said.
Mama took me home. She said she wasn’t going to tolerate such disrespectful comments, especially from a school administrator. So she started homeschooling me.
When I got home I ran straight to my room. Seconds later Papi knocked.
“Can I come in?” he said.
“Yeah, you can come in,” I replied.
“Esme, I just want to say I’m disappointed, not because of you fighting but because you let people walk all over you. You let them disrespect you, mija. You’ve been through so much to just let them do that to you. Let me ask you something, mija. Are you proud of being hispanic?” Papi said.
“Yes Papi, I am. But I just want to give up; I’m not good enough,” I said.
“Never give up, princess, whatever you’re willing to give, will help you achieve. Never give up,” he said as he left the room.
A feeling came through me--it felt like that would be the last talk I would have with my Papi.
Still, as I grew older I began to take the wrong path. I did drugs for two years straight. I guess you could say they helped relieve my stress, until one day I came home and my dad saw me doing drugs. He yelled at me and suddenly he had a heart attack. We rushed him to the hospital but it was too late and there was nothing we could do.
After that day I was not only devastated but disappointed. How was it that I had changed all because of my background? How could I have let people stomp all over me?

I was now 15 years old. I convinced my mom to let me go back to school in order for me to get back on track. She agreed. When I went back the first thing I saw was a flyer that said, “BOXING IN THE UPSTAIRS GYM. COME JOIN.” It glimmered every time I passed by it, so I decided to give it a try.

When I arrived at the upstairs gym I saw pure guys--not one female was in there. I slowly walked in and as I walked in the guys started whistling and saying some disrespectful comments.
“Whoa Whoa, are you lost baby girl? I think you should go put on your cheerleading outfit and cheer me on,” a guy named Pablo said.
“Put on the gloves; I’ll fix your personality and show you how to respect a girl,” I replied as I kept walking.
The coach did some quick drills to see how hard I punched and how fast I threw punches.
“Wow Esmeralda, I can honestly say I am absolutely astonished on how well you box. I would love to have you join. Heck, I’ll even offer you an athletic scholarship!” the coach told me.
“Oh thank you! I would love to train here!” I said.

Seven years later.
“And now in this corner weighing 128 pounds, straight from East Los Angeles, Esmeralda Ramirez!” I had become pro; I had achieved all my goals and Mama, Omar, Christian, Carlos and Adrian were all there. And I know that from wherever Papi was, he was proud to see his little princess. Not giving up.