Being a Cuban immigrant has provided me with a unique bicultural perspective that has become my support system in the United States. For the first eleven years of my life, my culture was composed of music and dancing. In every street corner of my hometown, there was a group of seniors playing domino and close by, their grandchildren dancing to the Salsa music being played on the radio to pass the time. The hardships created by the communist regime are overshadowed by memories of my mother teaching me how to sew and by my paternal grandmother teaching me how to enjoy a strong Cuban coffee.
Those precious memories of home became a source of pain when I migrated to the United States. At first, the social peculiarity given to me by my migration status and language limitations made me a victim of bullying, which made me want to go back to the safety and similarity of my home country. However, the persistent nature engraved in me by my parents did not allow me to give in to the constant discriminatory voices that kept telling me that I would never be "American" enough.
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The value of education engraved in me by my mother was further expanded by the value of a college education in the United States. I also learned to appreciate the freedom of speech and the capitalistic system of the United States. In Cuba, I was forced to agree with everything I was taught, I was obliged to participate in activities that I did not agree with, and worst of all, I met people with boundless potential that were denied their right to study because if their religious beliefs. In the United States, I was able to develop my perspectives, which not always coincide with my parents ' views and also learned to question every new lesson, my current teachers do not only drained me with information but also encourage me to criticize it and form my perspective through