My grandparents got married when my grandfather was only 14 years old and my grandmother was only 12 years old. They were married for more than fifty-nine years. They had nine children: five women and four men, including my father, who was the youngest. None of them were born in the hospital, as access to healthcare insurance was not so easy, and none of them completed high school as they needed to work on the farm and school was not so easy to access for the farm residents. As adults, some of their children went to bigger cities in search of better lives, some tried life abroad. But my father stayed helping my grandpa.

I was born in the public hospital in the nearby city. I was raised on the farm, and loved living on the farm. There was a big and green pasture to ride horses, a small house with a wood burning stove where my mom made the best food, a big lake for fishing, a small house to hold the best memories. The farm had a lot of trees: bananas, oranges, mango guavas, grapes among others.

On the farm I loved taking care of the animals: putting out food for the chickens, getting milk from the cows, washing and combing the horses and helping my dad with chores. I lived each day with a purpose, took care of animals with all the love I could feel. I felt happy like I got a trophy every day. My grandpa was my big hero. He showed me how to brush and braid the horse’s mane. He loved to cook feijao tropeiro for me and taught me how to play cards. He and my father taught me this love that I have for everything on the farm. The farm was where I found my peace, where I felt safe from my fears, where everything was possible.

As my grandfather got older, he could no longer work on his own farm. He left my father responsible for working, caring for, and preserving the good memories they had in that place. My father too had health problems from an early age, but medicine was too expensive and with public health insurance would take years on the waiting list to get help.

One day my parents decided to move to the United States. In the US my mother would have more opportunities, my sister and I would have a better school, and my father would be able to better help for his health. It was my parents’ “American dream.” But that dream wasn't mine. I didn’t see myself living in another place. I did not want to leave my house, my friends, my culture, my animals on the farm. I didn’t want to leave my grandfather. At the age of 14, I did not understand the reasons that they had. I did not think about my family, just about myself. I questioned myself why I would need to give up everything I dreamed of, the life I loved, to come to a place where everything was new and different.

Not too long after I got here I thought that my reasons to be happy were gone. But little by little I started to understand that my life hadn't changed, by chance, everything had changed for a reason. I got a job, I started going to school, I created a community. It took a year to realize I had incredible opportunities that I would never have had living on the farm: I had the opportunity to study, the opportunity to go to a college, to get a job and earn money. My family was safe, my father was healthy. I started to have dreams much bigger than I had before. I was no longer sad for not being close to what made me happy, but happier for being able to better be able to achieve what I wanted in the future: having my own farm working with my own animals, giving a better opportunity to my future children. When all seemed lost, America gave me a dream and a greater desire to seek out what I want in life.

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