It’s a hard to remember much about when you were three years old, but in my case, I clearly remember the picture of me being carried in my uncle’s arms, staring at my mother whose tears didn’t seem to have an end. The clear picture of my father in a coffin and a familiar voice saying “No se lo enseñe'' or “do not let him watch.” A picture and a voice engrained in my mind… a picture and a voice I see and hear often, fifteen years later. It was hard for me to tell or realize what was going on, but something I knew for sure was that things would not be the same… my father was not going to be around. “Se fue para el cielo” or “he's in heaven,” I would hear my mother say quite often.

My mother became an unemployed widow and mother of four kids. That was a terrible situation, but in a country with an unemployment rate of 17% and a minimum wage below $5 it was much worse. She had a child still taking breast milk and there was not much she could do to maintain my brother and my two sisters and myself. Filled with concern and frightened for what was to come, my mother decided to move back to the countryside where she grew up. Receiving some help and support from her relatives was lucky, but it was not enough for the fact that countryside life was, is, and will always be too hard in the Dominican Republic. With my father gone, my mother was forced to acquire the role of a father while still being the mother. She immediately found herself a job cleaning rooms in a resort in Puerto Plata, earning 3000 pesos ($83) each fortnight. I remember by the time I woke up every day, her bed was empty. By 5 AM, my mother was on her way to work in those cold, dark and creepy sunrises. She was restless, her eyes expressed fatigue and I wanted to help, but I was too weak. Mother often said the best way I could help her was by going to school and to never quit school. Those words were meaningless to me at the time and only recently I realized the importance of her words. Why would a person who quit school ask me not to quit? I always wondered why or how she believed this so deeply.

The death of my father affected me in countless ways. I would describe it as a 180 degree turn. While my father was alive, we lived in Esperanza, a very crowded and active city. There, I had the life any kid could wish for with the love of a family, and nothing to be concerned about. Life was just great for my brother my sisters and I. I could say that happiness reached me at a young age. However, the impact that the death of my father had on my life was beyond any one’s expectations. After my father’s death I saw myself forced to adapt to the countryside life where every day I was woken up by the crowing of a rooster in cool mornings. Hard times often touched our doors; times when money and food were scarce and prayer was all we had. And there was me again, wanting to do something. It got to a point where I decided to do something. I skipped school and went to work. I came home with 66 pesos ($4) and a huge smile thinking that my mom would very happy but ironically my mother almost broke the money on my face claiming that school goes first then money comes later. Ironic I called my mother. It took me years to realize who the ironic was.

My father’s early departure made me the lady who I am today, a mature, hard working and competitive lady. That’s how I see it. I often get sad because I grew up without the love of a father but at the same time it motivates and inspires me to work even harder. Especially, because I was rise by a warrior; a women who is my mother and my father. The main reason why I want to take my education to the next level is because I promised my mother I would do so. In her beliefs education goes before anything else and I believe my father beliefs were exactly the same. I will make my mother and my father proud. I will keep working hard and not quit school just as I promise my mother and because I know he is watching closely from above.