I’ve always gone by my middle name, “Andrea”, and never by my first. When I lived in Washington D.C, my name was considered foreign and rare. No one in my classroom had ever heard of it, much less knew how to pronounce it. “AN D · r ee · uh” they would say, “An·DREY·uh” I would correct them. By the time I reached the first grade, I surrendered and had them call me whatever they felt most comfortable with. The humiliation didn’t stop there, as soon as they took note of my tanned skin tone and I uttered a word in Spanish, I became Mexican; so Mexican I was for the larger portion of my childhood. My Latin girl friends and I chuckled about it and made jokes about their ignorance, not realizing our own.

It wasn’t until I met my good friend, Jackie, from Connecticut, that I realized both ends were at fault. I participated in limiting myself to a friend group within my comfort zone and my classmates did just the same. What I learned from Jackie was that I truly enjoyed exiting my realm of security, because allowing myself to do so, meant decreasing my ethnocentric perspective. I was able to become the sociable person I am today, with friends from all different regions, cultures, colors and beliefs. As I reflect on this moment, I am grateful that I took that initiative. It became my stepping-stone in realizing that all situations should be addressed with the same open-mindedness. In order to do this, I have never limited myself to one particular community or group. I believe that in doing so it takes away from our experience in this world; one thing I treasure dearly.