The American Desk By Elisa Nunez

I am a DREAMER. And I want to fulfill that dream in the only way I know how, completing my education to its maximum capacity. I want to be able to demonstrate that ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE and that each individual sure has "the whole world in their hands". The thought of being the first to graduate is inexpressible because I am not just any dreamer. I am one of many kids who recognize the United States as their home yet, are not an American citizen. It truly brings a state of awe; I am denied citizenship of a country I love and admire, yet, maintain the citizenship of one that I do not know. The case of kids like myself is complicated, confusing, and can leave some in a state of despair. My family and I decided to legally travel northbound to the Land of Opportunities when I was two years old. In fact, at three years old, one is then able to create and maintain memories. Anything prior, is lost. This meant that any aspect of Honduras, my birth country, was never maintained as a memory. Literally speaking, America is the only country I know.

My family and I came to this country with a thousand dollars and a heart filled with HOPE. The money in which was inherited from the death of my two grandmothers. We settled for some months in a one bedroom attic in Uniondale, NY. Our first year, we constantly moved. Seven times in one year to be exact. However, one thing that was reinforced within my family was, Education. My parents always reminded me of the power of knowledge. Regardless of one's economic or political status, knowledge will never be taken away. It is universal, permanent, and immortal. Education is fearless and to have it means being fearless of any obstacle.

One of the most satisfying moments of my life was receiving a desk. During my childhood, doing homework was challenging because we did not own a kitchen table. Let alone, any flat surface to do homework on. My father worked for a construction company and recognized my early love for school. He fulfilled my demands in the only way he knew how, being creative. He came home one day with a single white floor tile and it fulfilled all my school related demands. Ranging from multiplication problems to science fair projects, everything was done on that tile. Up until eighth grade, it was a major component. I moved to a two family house in Baldwin, NY. And lucky for us, it included a kitchen island open to future homework and projects.

Junior year surely brought demands and homework required more concentration. My parents saw this and just starting the new school year, decided to buy me a white desk along with a comfortable white chair to match. It was already assembled, since it was pre-owned, but having it in my very own room filled up a missing part of me within. Tears of happiness were shed that night and I couldn't have been more grateful. It was one of the moments in life, when one must reflect and appreciate every individual that helped you get to the present point; As well as, recognizing your own effort for maintaining focus.

Receiving my desk was part of achieving my American Dream. Education is much more than a superficial concept. Education is maintaining an open mind and being persistent. My childhood desk symbolically addresses that in order to succeed one must simply keep trying. Regardless if that effort is placed into something that is second best. Life is a battle overflowing with obstacles and it is up to the individual to soothe this by reacting in a positive manner. Completing my education would be the climax of my life and it is unimaginable the happiness and joy it would bring me; Nonetheless, completing my American Dream.