Brothers and Sisters of Miami

Often people in multiethnic societies, such as in the city of Miami, share a common dream. Most envision a future where they can make their immigrant parents proud or they hope that one day they can overcome the “minority” label that they all share and become someone much more than that. I know I do. However, a lot of these people—a lot of my people—feel discouraged along the way. They see these dreams, these surreal almost impossible dreams, fade away when life throws them one obstacle after another. As a young adult, I want to prove to them that they can indeed achieve their dreams. I want to instill in them comfort that they’re not alone, that we’re all going through this together, and that we are one.

I often look around my classroom and see a spectrum of colors. Blacks, Asians, and Hispanics all sit and listen to the teacher attentively, eager to ace the next assignment, eager to pass the class, eager to graduate high school, eager to chase their dreams. Every of one them has a story and baggage to carry—not only in the form of heavy textbooks but in the form of struggle, the kind of struggle that often plagues people of multiethnic societies.

These people are my friends. Jonathan Tagoe, son of a Ghanaian immigrant, wants to repay his mother for all the sacrifices she’s ever made for him by investing into his future through his education. Kaitlyn Pujols, a Puerto Rican native, wants to prove people wrong; she wants to show the world that Puerto Ricans are far more than the lazy, obnoxious stereotypes that they are made out to be and does so by pouring herself into her passions. Andres Orta, son of Puerto Ricans, wants a future with financial stability. Fransheska Datilus is of Haitian descent and aspires to become a civil engineer and she wants to, “show the world that this Haitian labeled African American female can break barriers and innovate the world.”

And finally myself, Edysmar Diaz-Cruz, oldest child of Colombian and Venezuelan immigrants, dreaming someday of becoming someone worth remembering—whether it’s through a byline in an aging newspaper or by the lips of the people I’ve influenced throughout my life.

I want to help people like Jonathon, Kaitlyn, Andres, and Fransheska realize that they are not alone. I want to show them that we are all brothers and sisters living under the same household of hopes and dreams. I want to help them realize the common bond that they already have by showing them that I—one of their fellow siblings—can indeed go above and beyond the minority label by getting accepted into college and by pursuing my dream of making a name for myself. By doing so, I hope to encourage to them into doing the same knowing very well that they are not alone.