Born and raised in El Salvador, I grew up in a family of three, my mom, brother, and I. At 26, I migrated to the United States and began what I call the second half of my life. After learning English, I obtained a high school diploma, followed by an Associates Degree in English, and about to obtain a Bachelor’s Degree in Liberal Studies with an option in Spanish. Transferring to CSU Dominguez Hills has been one of the best decisions I have ever made, besides marrying my husband. I am looking forward to my life as a teacher.
Road to Teaching
“No way I’m becoming a teacher,” I remember telling my mom when I was in 4th grade. It’s not that I had something against the profession; it was the fact that a good percent of the members of my quite extensive family are teachers, including my mother. Two of my aunts are elementary school teachers, another aunt is a health college professor, and my mom is a retired college professor – who still teaches. I was hoping to be the deviant one that chose her own personal path. Proudly, I have always considered my family a very humanitarian one. All the chosen careers are about helping others; we have nurses, doctors, social workers, and lots of teachers. Even though I tried to step away from teaching as much as I could, it seems to have been in my blood all along.
When I finished high school in El Salvador, everybody thought that I was going to follow the family path. So, I decided to attend art school. I was happy, classes were entertaining and messy. I loved walking around carrying more than one canvas, a big sketch pad, and having all my clothes stained with paint, I felt like I belonged. It turns out, I wasn’t the only person that used to doodle in class instead of paying attention. I had found my call. I wasn’t meant to be a teacher, I was meant to be an illustrator, or something related to that. As I was finding who I was as an artist, reality struck.
We were going through a rough path, and money was tight. I needed a job. One of my aunts was friends with the principal of a local kindergarten. Her name is Miss Tita and she agreed to hire me as a teacher assistant. It was my first job and I was assigned to Pre-K. I was in a classroom with twenty kids between 3 and 4 years old. Even though they occasionally needed a diaper change, I was having the time of my life. I really enjoyed working with those kids; they were so smart and creative that I felt like I wasn’t really working, I was having fun. In fact, my co-workers used to say that I was the oldest student in the school because of my playful personality. Being an art student was a plus factor, I could explore my creativity further and develop activities suitable with the kid’s abilities. Inside that classroom I realized I could no longer ignore my destiny. Miss Tita knew that deep inside, I wanted to be a teacher. Even after I moved to the US, she would message me and encourage me to keep studying and working towards my goal. Now I can embrace my decision and simply keep working hard to achieve my goal. Oh, and as for my mother and my aunts, they say they have always known I was going to end up teaching something.