In light of this post, I've been thinking of ironic things in my own life...
I never went camping growing up. Never went on a family vacation. My mom, a single mother. An immigrant mother. A brown mother. A mother that gave everything to her daughter so she'd have a better future, so she could become whatever she wanted. A mother that worked multiple jobs. A mother that still to this day works 361 days out of the year. That mother had too many things to worry about to take me camping.
.
Freshman year summer I signed up for summer biology classes in the Black Hills. I was going to be going camping, hiking, bird-watching, and going to see the stars for the first time (having grown up in Chicago, this wasn't something I'd ever really done). So, off my mom and I went to find gear.
(the above portion was written about a month ago, and I'm trying to pick up where I left off, but I seem to have lost my train of thought)
My experience was different because there were so many new things for me. I hadn't really ever stayed in cabins. I hadn't lived that far from my family ever. In fact, I went to school 30 miles away from home and went home to visit my family at least once a month. This was going to be 8 whole weeks of being away. And to top it off, I wasn't going to have cell phone reception that entire time. Looking back, I'm really grateful that my mother even allowed me to go at all!
That summer was just one of the times that helped point out my different upbringing, SES, background, language, and culture throughout college. More on that later.
Sorry this post is messy and I stopped my thoughts halfway... I shouldn't wait 1 month between finishing drafts.
I never went camping growing up. Never went on a family vacation. My mom, a single mother. An immigrant mother. A brown mother. A mother that gave everything to her daughter so she'd have a better future, so she could become whatever she wanted. A mother that worked multiple jobs. A mother that still to this day works 361 days out of the year. That mother had too many things to worry about to take me camping.
.
Freshman year summer I signed up for summer biology classes in the Black Hills. I was going to be going camping, hiking, bird-watching, and going to see the stars for the first time (having grown up in Chicago, this wasn't something I'd ever really done). So, off my mom and I went to find gear.
My friend says I should buy chacos.I realize more now how my experience was different than that of my classmates.
Chanclas?
No, ma, ch-A-cos.
(the above portion was written about a month ago, and I'm trying to pick up where I left off, but I seem to have lost my train of thought)
My experience was different because there were so many new things for me. I hadn't really ever stayed in cabins. I hadn't lived that far from my family ever. In fact, I went to school 30 miles away from home and went home to visit my family at least once a month. This was going to be 8 whole weeks of being away. And to top it off, I wasn't going to have cell phone reception that entire time. Looking back, I'm really grateful that my mother even allowed me to go at all!
That summer was just one of the times that helped point out my different upbringing, SES, background, language, and culture throughout college. More on that later.
Sorry this post is messy and I stopped my thoughts halfway... I shouldn't wait 1 month between finishing drafts.
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