I was born San Pedro Sula, Honduras, a city that has more bullet shells on the ground than people in the city. It is a place where lying, cheating, and stealing were at the top of everyone’s agenda. These were the three essentials to survive day in and day out. I remember on my walks to school I would see kids just like me collecting plastic bottles and metal cans to sell for scraps at the recycling plant. Sometimes I would join them because I thought that was what kids my age did for fun. From my house every night, I would hear the screams of innocent people being raped or murdered. I would hear the boots of army troops stomping on the dusty roads and rapid shots of automatic weapons. It wasn’t until I immigrated to the United States when I realized that these events had become less commonplace. …show more content…
My father was an accountant for ten years and my mother worked in business administration. While my parents' classmates were dealing cocaine and getting tattoos of MS-13 (Mara Salvatrucha) inside their lips, my mother and father were in school studying and at home taking care of their siblings. Despite growing up in this environment, they knew that was not the lifestyle they wanted to live in. After enduring the same experiences many other poverty stricken children lived, they continued to accomplish their goals and set new ones. By attending college and both graduating with honors, they became the model of students who can do so much with so little. However, after dedicating the majority of their lives to escaping poverty, my parents knew my older brother and I were still at risk of living in the same type of environment they were raised