Ever since I was younger, my grandparents always taught me about my culture. Mama and Papa told me about the yucca plantations, the constant sounds of motorcycles passing by their village in the Dominican Republic. Abuela and Abuelo told me about the sugar cane fields in Puerto Rico, how the children in their town used to suck on the plant like candy. I used to mix up my cultures, yet each has their own unique and beautiful aspects. I was born in Brooklyn, and was the second child from my mother's family to be born in the United States. Mama and Papa moved to the lower east side after they had my mother, and Abuelo and Abuela moved to Brooklyn when they were 17. Both sets of my grandparents shared one dream in common, the dream of a better life for them and their family. This all started once they began their journey to the United States.

Growing up, I lived in Queens. My family lived in a tiny apartment with 2 bedrooms. I’d spend the day with my either set of grandparents while my mother and father worked long days in the city. My grandparents, who by that point hardly spoke english, always made sure I had strong connections to my culture. Whether it was through cooking my favorite spanish meals, or blasting bachata or salsa on the stereo while we cleaned the house. Although Dominican Culture and Puerto Rican culture are very similar, at the same time they are very different and have different aspects. Walking into Mama and Papa’s house and walking into Abuelo and Abuelas house was like walking into 2 different worlds. Different meals being cooked, different types of music being played, even some of the words they spoke in spanish had different meanings. Even when I was younger, I always felt like there was 2 of me. My Dominican me, and my Puerto Rican me. And I had absolutely no clue that this feeling would still carry on with me so insanely strong throughout my teenage years.

When I was going into Kindergarten, my family and I moved to Valley Cottage, New York. My parents had the same mindset that their parents had, that in order to give their children a better life: the answer was to move. Everytime I asked my mother, “Why are we moving, I like my school here. I'm gonna miss seeing my grandparents everyday.” She would always respond to me “Laila, we want to give you what we never had growing up. That's why we're moving.” Now that I'm older, I can finally begin to understand where she was coming from. Valley Cottage had better education, was safer, and overall seemed to give us the better opportunity to live a better life. I remember the day we moved to this small town, everything seemed so much bigger. We had our own mailbox, our own lawn, no more sirens blasting while we were trying to sleep. It was so quiet here. Little did I know, that day initiated the creation of another version of me, who would soon take over who I truly was.

I went from speaking spanish everyday, living in a tiny 2 bedroom apartment, to living in a suburban neighborhood which was predominantly white in a 2 floor home. 70.4% of my entire town being white alone, and only 18.9% being Latino. Within months of living in Valley Cottage, I already felt as if I was less of who I was before I moved. No more spanish meals cooked like my grandparents made me, no more being forced to speak spanish because it was easier for my parents to speak to us in english; change was occurring so fast and I didnt even realize it. Things were so different, and although I missed living in the city, as a kid, everything here seemed so much more bigger and more fun. I quickly assimilated into the culture of Valley Cottage, and I almost even forgot all of my spanish because I didn’t need it anymore. I started dressing like my friends, speaking like them, and even at some points acting like them. As a kid, being different is always perceived negatively. I was always the only tan skinned one in my friend group. But soon, I realized that it was easier to fit in instead of stand out. I never had an issue with looking different than everyone else, because even though my ties to my culture at that point were undeniably weak, I was always proud to be different.

Things were going great in my life, but everytime we made a trip to my grandparents house or a family members house, I always kind of felt left out. Id see my cousins speaking to each other in spanish, and me being completely lost in their heavy accents as they spoke. One day, Mama asked me; “Laila, recuerda cuando siempre cantó esta canción?” (Do you remember when you always sang this song?) She played it on the same old boombox. Except this time when she played it, I didn’t even remember a single word of it. I tried so hard forcing myself to remember but nothing was coming back. I sat there on the couch, so stumped. So flustered, angry, I asked myself “How could I forget this song, how? It was my favorite for so long.” Mama noticed my frustrations, and said to me “No te preocupes mija. Solo tiene que escucharlo otra vez. Tú vas a recordar” (Don't worry, you only need to listen to it again. You will remember) This feeling I had while I sat on the couch, it was almost brick wall between myself and my culture. This barrier blocking me from me from who I once was, and who I want to become again. I just felt like this tan skinned girl who had no idea about who she truly was anymore. I needed to take initiative, to do something about this seemingly unbreakable barrier that I unknowingly built. I was sick of feeling like a stranger amongst my own people, and needed to tap into my true culture. This all began with calling my grandparents more often, practicing my spanish. Blasting my favorite latino hits in my headphones everyday, even watching movies like West Side Story to somewhat force myself into who I once was.

Nowadays, things are so much different. I take so much more pride in my culture. Even though my spanish is far from as good as it used to be, I still challenge myself to learn. Moving from Queens to the suburbs was a very bold move by my parents, and I am forever grateful for it. Ive been introduced to so many new things and opportunities here, and I have my parents to thank for everything I have. They grew up in low income homes, and worked hard and persevered through High School and College. Because of their hard work, I now have the privilege to live in a nice home, and have a plate of food waiting for me when I get home from school. Also because of their hard work, I have the luxury of owning nice things, going on extravagant vacations and mini trips. I consider myself so lucky compared to others, so lucky and blessed to have parents who want what's best for me. Sometimes I'll go to my room at night, and stream the nightly news on my laptop. I see stories with headlines like “.. Queens teenager shot in hit and run accident..” Who knows what could have happened if we stayed there, who knows what my life would have turned out to be.

I've learned many lessons from my family, but one of the main ones I have always held close to heart was that in order to create a better life for yourself and your family, you must do whatever it takes, by any means necessary. Because my grandparents left their countries, my parents had better education and a better life. Because my parents left the city, I have an even better education than they had and an even better life than they did. I am now on the track to attend a great college and study something that I am interested in. My grandparents and my parents help set me up for a very bright future, and that is something that I will most definitely carry on to my children one day. Im very blessed and proud of my life, as well as the type of person that my culture shaped me to be. There are 3 versions of Laila Skye Bermudez, and I have learned that in order to appreciate and embrace every version, I just have to be myself, and be proud of the person I have become.