I was sitting at a desk at home while writing this poem and I kept remembering little things about my childhood from when I lived in Canada. Some of the things that came to my mind were common memories, like a red and yellow toy car that I used to stand on to pick apples from the tree in my backyard. I also went back to the first grade, my first year in Miami after my dad’s work made us leave Canada. I remembered liking it here because I didn’t have to wear so many layers of clothes to play outside. I also remembered hoping to make new friends at school and the first day of school when I didn’t understand my teacher and when my classmates realized I couldn’t speak English so they laughed and whispered to each other. I remembered how horrible I’d felt, how stupid. In Canada, we spoke French only, my elective language was Spanish, children didn’t learn English until later on in Elementary school. While I was writing this poem, I remembered crying after that first day and begging my mom to teach me English. I remembered how my mom talked to my teacher the next day. Ms Chamizo would chastise the other students when they made fun of me and she would help me when I didn’t understand something. With the help of my teacher and the afterschool tutoring classes I attended, I’d learned English by the middle of the year. But I didn’t stop there, I kept reading as much as I could until my knowledge of this 3rd language surpassed that of my 1st and 2nd. I had to make sure that nobody would ever have a reason to laugh at me for not knowing something.