DISPATCH: Growing up in two worlds and letting go

I did not realize how special it was to live on the border until I was 2,000 miles away from home. I grew up in El Paso, Texas, which lies on the border of Mexico, across from Ciudad Juarez. When I was little, my grandparents would cross over to visit every weekend. I had friends in school who lived in Juarez and would cross the border every morning to attend school after waiting hours in line. My entire life has been formed of two different worlds that are surprisingly similar.

While I know of people who never learned their mother tongue nor engaged in their culture, that has not been my experience growing up. Our border town not only embodies Mexican and American customs — our town’s culture was the blend itself. Bilingual programs were implemented in most public schools, authentic Mexican restaurants could be found at every corner, and matachines’ beating drums echoed in the air as they gathered for their weekly practice at my neighborhood park.

I will not deny that discrimination exists within our multicultural city. Yet, in my hometown, I have never had to deny any parts of my culture in the hope of fitting in. I know that the people in this town are filled with love and appreciation for all the aspects that make our home what it is.

I have always lived in these two worlds, which made coming to Princeton difficult. When I moved, I found comfort in knowing that my hometown would always be waiting for me when I returned.

This summer, I saw so many Princetonians doing amazing things all across the globe. While I could have taken advantage of the countless resources and opportunities Princeton has to offer, I needed to be back home. Before I even moved into 1976 Hall in Butler my first year, I promised myself that my first summer would be spent at home.

I have heard that first-year summer is the last time you can truly experience your hometown in the same way, and the thought kills me. My parents and dogs are getting older; my nieces and nephews are growing up. I want to soak up every moment.

At the start of the summer, I felt lost — trapped between childhood and adulthood. I spent the summer focused on low commitment academic opportunities, like reading and crafting. Most importantly, I tried to be available for my family in case they needed anything at all, trying to make up for lost time. As I spent my mornings playing with my dog, my afternoons reading and crocheting with my nieces, and my evenings watching telenovelas with my mom, I wondered if I was being too childish. I felt uncomfortable, doubting whether I was doing enough or whether I would ever be able to grow up; I began to cling to my childhood even more. As summer came to a close, I resisted letting go. I felt I could not let myself leave. I even put off buying my ticket back to New Jersey.

It’s hard to keep my new world at Princeton connected with my old worlds at home. However, even when I am 2,000 miles away, I carry my home with me. My parents gave me the smile that I have when I am around my amazing roommates, and my dog is always right by my heart inside my locket. The child-like lexicon I have adopted from my nieces and nephews even slips into my conversations with my peers at Princeton.

I am grateful that I got to spend this summer at home, and rather than feeling uncertain about how I spent my time, I am glad I was able to reconnect with my childhood and be with my family. Beyond that, I am also excited for the opportunities the new school year presents. I do not have to let go of home — I have to embrace it even more regardless of how far I am. I have to let go of my fear of change and differences. After all, what makes my hometown so special is its ability to embrace all its aspects, all its roots, and every puzzle piece that forms it, and I should follow its example and do the same for myself.

Natalia Diaz is a member of the Class of 2027 and a staff writer for The Prospect. She can be reached at nd6595[at]princeton.edu.