"One Piece" at Yale

There are a lot of things that make me, me - Lluvia. There is for example why I don’t believe in religion, or why I think my mother is the strongest woman in the world, or being raised a female in a third world patriarchal country. But I decided to write this essay on how I became a woman. 31 ½ inches - breasts too small. Instead of focusing on my point of view; on what I think, they look at my breasts. At twelve they are already starting to judge me for the way I look. My mind, a powerful loaded gun, but instead of bullets it is full of ideas that yearn to be expressed. But no - I have to be quiet, I have look nice, women are supposed to look good and smile - that’s it. 28 inches - not thin enough. Your waist has to be as thin and delicate as a tuberose rod. My ability is underestimated even when I try my best. I’m judged because if they consider me thin enough it is also bad because that mean I’m weak. And if I am not consider thin enough I have a horrible body. 32 ½ inches - my

There are a lot of things that I like about my backyard. I am there at 6:00 o’clock in the morning right after I wake up. I am there at 3:00 pm enjoying a cookout with my family. But I am also there at 3:00 am, trying to figure my life out. This backyard is made up of memories, love and sadness. It seems uninhabited; as if no one has ever lived there. White chairs all over the yard, their corresponding white table placed carelessly in a corner. My backyard doesn’t have grass all over it, it only has grass in strategic places, to look cute ,but not too cute. My dog helps to cut the grass, I call her my little cow. She enjoys eating the little grass that grows in the yard. There are three beautiful trees in the back. I love the trees because they transmit to me tranquility and peace when I need it the most. I don’t know the name of these trees, but I love them. For me every living thing should be treated with respect and kindness. These trees provide us with a beautiful shadow

The inside is beating, transmitting energy that is difficult to decipher. Every book is a wise old men who can teach you to fish for the rest of your life. Its design, a glorious sunset even now, 10:00 o’clock in the morning. The careful lighting that covers the books and all those beautiful colors, opaque yellow, brown, red and dark green that transmit eldeness and wisdom. I ask myself how a building can contain this amount of knowledgement. Even when it is created from stone it lets you feel through its skin the softness of the place. The few people that we can find in this place where you can feel the overwhelming feeling similar to a temple walk with soft and slow steps to avoid disturbing other people. Why if this building has a lot of space they don’t use it. All the books are concentrated in the middle and in each corner small glass boxes have books in exhibition but between the middle and the corners an abyss pounces between a book and another. A library, how magnificent

Everyone experiences childhood in different ways, some of us have to learn that life is tough from the age of three and others have a beautiful beginning of life in a lovely family. In the poem “The Family Castle” by Nancy Rakovszky and the book “The Glass Castle” by Jeannette Walls that contrast is painfully evident. The two pieces have one thing in common - childhood. Yet all else seems different. These are two very different ways a mother takes care of her child and how she provides for her child’s needs. Both Jeannette Wall’s mother and Nancy Rakovszky represent a mother figure, but the former has no maternal instinct whatsoever while the latter is as fierce as a mother bear. Nancy Rakovszky is a strong mother who looks forward to raising her child and giving her best, “Our castle stands atop the hills, and offers strength of spirit, place your hand little one unto mine, and I shall lead you to it.” Rakovszky from the beginning of the poem imposes the protective view of

There are beautiful things that we can not describe or title. There are beautiful things that don’t have an explanation, like the galaxy, and the different planets and constellations that form part of it. The diversity in races, cultures and ethnicities. Every human being is special with all their virtues and shortcomings. Colors. Yellow, red, blue and the most outstanding - black. It’s twelve o’clock in the morning. My head hurts from the fatigue of a long day. Surrounded by all these colors, brushes and canvases I feel as if I could create the most beautiful painting. But instead, the only thing that comes to life with each brushstroke is me. A self-portrait. I am not a narcissist but I cannot stop enjoying myself everytime my brush touches the canvas. Life is so hard that I ask myself if this is happiness. Arriving late from a long day of work and being able to enjoy one of my favorite pastimes. Living as a black women in this society is the worst. You not only have to co

       When I was six years old, my mother left me in Mexico to pursue the American Dream. This story affected my life as a women, as a kid and as a human being. My mother was everything to me because she had divorced my father when I was three. I was about to turn seven years when the most important person in my life had to move away from me. She had worked as hard as she could in Mexico to support me and my two brothers. When I was four we moved to another city to start from the beginning. We moved to a big house, to a horrid and murky house where we tried to make a home. My mom started working long hours in two different jobs. The work absorbed all her time that we needed a nanny. We survived for three years living with the ghost of my mother because she was never really there, but she was being the best mother she could.       But she finally reached the point of exhaustion, working long hours and not having enough money to support her three children, so she decided to mo

Even though I have been living in New Haven for more than three years I have only been in Yale buildings a couple of times. I have often seem those beautiful gardens and the amazing architecture. It appears to be a different city. Even though New Haven has beautiful parks and beaches, Yale is magnificent. I always wondered what kind of people were inside the buildings Many times I have seen people in the streets of downtown, crossing the streets in a hurry and I asked myself if this people always had somewhere to go and something to do. Yale seems to me something so mysterious that it feels even magical. It also feels asif everybody always has something to do and it motivates me to work even harder than I had planned. I grew up in a third world county. Even to get a basic education was pretty difficult and to have a higher education was just a dream of all the young people. I truly believe that this is a country of opportunities. Being in a Yale Program means a lot to me because