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Cultural Immersion

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Being raised in The Bronx is very close to growing up in a barred civilization. Marble Hill is where I was raised and where my mother, a couple months fresh from the Dominican Republic, had met my father. Both chained with the poverty of coming from a country where you quite literally fetch breakfast in the fields, they had never dared to imagine anything outside of the Bronx borough. My father was gone around the time I was in third grade, and my immediate family was reduced to my heroic mother and two sisters. By the time I was about thirteen we left our one bedroom apartment in Marble Hill for a coquettish two bedroom on the other side of the Bronx, and it was then when I had gotten my first taste of escape. I’ve been writing since I remember learning how to hold a pencil. It was my own personal form of getting out of the Bronx; getting away from the gunshots and machetes. However, I’ve realized that in my writing I always talk about an escape. I write about the sweet taste of cultural immersion. I romanticized my Spanish-Hispanic-Lebanese roots, and I aspired. I shot for the stars and reached NYU, but my plan has always been to reach farther. Florence is rich with the culture I am hungry for and I’m interested in it for the fall term because the experience of a new country is precisely what I need as a …show more content…

In the light of all the political chaos, I’d like to come back from the next two years and be able to say that a Dominican woman not only goes to New York University, but studied in four different countries and came back with the social capital and means to reach even farther. Traveling, to me, is its own form of success and I dream for

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