Educational Journey Map

Educational Journey Map

My journey through life is rooted in the paths of my ancestors. I have my grandparents to thank for my parents’ interest in caring for others, which in turn taught me to do the same. My paternal grandparents had four children, my father being the youngest. Though they were technically counted as a family of six, my grandparents were notorious for opening their home to anyone who needed help. At their highest count, they had nine children living with them. Everyone in their neighborhood knew that their house was where anyone could go for a hot meal or a warm (or cool) place to sleep. Conversely, my mother was raised in an abusive home by my maternal grandmother, as my maternal grandfather spent my mother’s childhood in prison and passed away when she was a teenager. The experiences my parents had as they grew up shaped the adults they became: my father emulated his parents’ caring and supportive nature, while my mother strived to make everyone feel loved, protected, and valued in her presence, since she did not receive that from her mother.

I was born the youngest of three children, with my brother five years older than me and my sister three years older. As an infant, I often embarrassed my parents by covering my face with a blanket if people spoke to me using baby talk or a baby voice. Both of my parents worked full-time, so I began daycare before I was one. My independent streak began early, as I never wanted to be tethered to my parents and enjoyed exploring the world around me.

My life has always been very structured. I began dancing at Festival Ballet Providence when I was three and spent years with the same group of students both in dance and at school. I always wanted to be “the best” academically and drove my mom crazy with my stubbornness. She still shakes her head when she tells the story of how I refused to let her teach me to read phonetically because I was determined to do it myself. As much as I’d love to say I outgrew that trait, it is still very much a part of me. It did not take long for me to begin feeling an unsettling anxiety during these years. My family and teachers described me as “emotional,” as all of my feelings were wired to my tear ducts, and you would normally find me crying over any mistake I made, correction I received, or slight I perceived. I began my “people-pleasing” behaviors during this time as well. The primary lesson I learned during this stage of my life was that I should keep difficult thoughts and feelings to myself, and that my worth was determined by how happy or proud I made others.

During my middle school years, I continued to find solace in doing for others. My social circle continued to shrink, as my time was spent between school, church, and dance. I pushed myself so hard to succeed academically that I became a “gifted” student and began receiving extra work above my grade level to challenge me. Around this time, I also became increasingly uncomfortable in my own skin, feeling I didn’t belong anywhere. I was ostracized at school for leaving my classmates to sit in on classes with the higher grades. There was no reprieve at dance either; all the other students of color quit, leaving me to stand out in all the wrong ways due to hair texture, skin tone, and body type. I struggled with body dysmorphia and disordered eating during these times. I believed I was worthless and was convinced that I could “fix” myself by getting better grades, being thinner, and working harder to please the adults in my life. I threw myself into helping others to keep my mind off my own shortcomings, volunteering to teach toddler Sunday School classes and seeking comfort through my faith, poetry, and journaling.

During high school, I barely had a moment to breathe. I was receiving more work at school, attending dance six days a week for five hours at a time, and began dealing with panic attacks. I couldn’t bring myself to ask for help, so I suffered in silence. I also had the opportunity to start babysitting for long-term clients. My parents had a revolving door of people in need staying in our house during this time as well. The guests always got to stay in my room, so I had to share with my sister. I was burning the candle at both ends, but I still felt accomplished because I managed my schedule like a champion and excelled in school. My parents were very strict, so I wasn’t allowed to date until I turned 16. I was 16 and one month when I started dating a classmate. Being in love felt like a lifesaver thrown into a raging sea. We were unhealthily attached (though I didn’t know that until much later), and I began acting out of character to manage everyone’s expectations of me: I started skipping dance classes some days and claimed study time on weekends when I was actually at my then-boyfriend’s house. I dreamed of my imminent escape because college was around the corner, and I planned to go as far away as possible to finally be alone.

High school graduation came like a breath of fresh air. I felt that I had made everyone in my life proud with my accomplishments. I was salutatorian of my class, and I finally got to open my social calendar because dance was finished. Of course, to me, this meant free time to dedicate to my then-boyfriend. I began distancing myself from other friends and spending all my time with him. When I wasn’t with him, I felt completely lost. The codependency I was experiencing led to an increase in my—still untreated and undiagnosed—mental health issues. The biggest disappointment to me at the time was enrolling at URI. I didn’t want to be there, but I still looked forward to being in a place where no one knew me…except the boyfriend, of course. I planned to fly completely under the radar: low A’s and high B’s, no extracurricular activities, and a plethora of afternoon and evening classes so I could finally rest.

Though my years as an undergraduate were some of my most formative, they are the years I least like to remember. I went through a terrible breakup and struggled unsuccessfully to rationalize my ex’s behavior. I began to blame myself for everything and became depressed. About two years later, my ex-boyfriend’s mother was murdered, which shattered my world completely. For months, I went through the motions of life, almost completely checked out. I began engaging in self-harm and had suicidal ideation, which finally led me to start therapy. Therapy saved my life and gave me the ability to begin processing my grief and losses. Looking back, I see that this time is where I learned that I do not have to be my own enemy. I started being told that I was worthy of love, compassion, and care just because, and that none of those things should come with a price tag or negotiation attached. I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and a double minor in Business and Gender & Women’s Studies. I began working full-time as a teacher and nanny, and reached a new level of patience when I was forced to teach a group of three- and four-year-olds over Zoom.

What a journey life has been thus far! With continued therapy and a combination of mood stabilizers and antidepressants, the quality of my life has improved more than I ever thought possible. I have gained clarity about the direction I want my life to take, and I have confidence in my ability to be successful. I have learned how to balance my need to recharge alone with the need to spend time with others, and I no longer drive home in tears after making it to an agreed-upon location to hang out with someone, having a panic attack and inventing a poorly made excuse for why I can’t come. I still deal with anxiety and a lot of apprehension, but I have proven to myself that I can handle scary and uncomfortable situations when I landed my dream job working for RI DCYF. I took a break from that position to accomplish another goal I had been wanting to achieve: joining the YDEV Master’s program at RIC! I met the love of my life, and we have sown the seeds of a healthy and loving relationship that we plan to nurture for as long as we can. My bond with my family has improved since I learned to establish and honor my boundaries, and I finally feel a sense of peace when I think about what my life looks like now and what it will be in the future. The joy I feel when I consider that my journey didn’t end when I was at my lowest point is indescribable. I have grown so much and learned to step outside of my comfort zone in my social, academic, and personal lives, and I am so proud of myself.

My appreciation for being able to care for others was developed as a child when I watched my parents practice this act. I grew from helping others as a distraction to helping others because I want to empower, protect, and support the most vulnerable in society. I believe that out of the three spheres I discussed throughout this explanation of my journey, the most integral to who I have become is the personal sphere. The experiences I’ve had and the crises I endured have brought me to where I am now, and I am so excited to see where they take me next.