The Freedom Writers Diary (28 page)

I was born in Nicaragua, a country where a communist regime was implanted, after Somoza lost his presidency. When communism spread, my family was in danger because their political status changed.

My father, being the accountant of the Somoza family, was automatically considered an enemy. My two older brothers were at a higher risk of being forced to join the army because of their ages. Young boys were taken away from their families to be brainwashed in a communist doctrine and trained for war. We were living a life of darkness and without hope. Something had to be done quickly.

My mother was six months’ pregnant when she decided that she would have to be the one to immigrate to the United States with my brothers because my dad was constantly being watched. My mother had to leave everything behind. She gave up her money, her business, the good life that she had, but most important she had to risk leaving her three-year-old daughter and her six-year-old son behind. My mother had to decide whether to risk her life for her two older sons, or stay and watch her sons and husband die in a war. She couldn’t take us all with her. First of all it was a lot of money, and second it would have been too obvious if we all had left. My innocent mind couldn’t understand what was going on at the time, though. I didn’t understand why she was leaving me behind.

My father, brother, and I waited about a year before we reunited with my mother, my two older brothers, and my new baby sister. That was one of the best feelings that I had ever felt in my entire life. Both of my parents knew that coming to the U.S. was going to be really hard. Not only was out lifestyle going to change dramatically, but they also knew they would have to start from scratch. Indeed, when we came to the U.S. we were practically just another number added to America. Although we hadn’t been a “real” family before, in that moment it felt as if we could never be apart.

From that time on, we have had several difficulties trying to adapt to a culture that wasn’t ours. My parents have worked very hard to still give us the good life that we once had. We don’t have all of the materialistic riches we once had, but now we have something much more valuable than we had before.

I never quite knew about my heritage, or the positions that my parents had in the government, until we started talking about my culture in Ms. Gruwell’s class. Everything was actually a shock to me when I found out the reason why we had to leave Nicaragua. It was as if it had happened in a past life. Ms. Gruwell encouraged me to talk with my mom about what had happened. When my mom was fixing my hair before I left for the prom, I kept thinking that those two hands that were touching my hair were the very same hands that made her very successful in our country.

I never really appreciated her sacrifice until tonight. I didn’t realize that I had a very important person right before my eyes. Not only did this the person risk her life for me and my brothers, but it is also the person who has supported every decision and every accomplishment that I’ve succeeded at. I would have never had the opportunity to be prom queen if my mom didn’t risk her life to bring us here. Now when my mom calls me her “trophy,” she means that I am her most valuable possession. That’s why I feel that this crown is really for her. She is the real queen.

Diary 129

Dear Diary,

We just won an award from the American Jewish Committee, called the Micah Award, for fighting injustice in our society. On the cover of the invitation, it said, “Whoever saves one life saves the world entire.” This statement is, without a doubt, one of the most powerful things I’ve ever read. Because of silence, the Nazis tormented six million innocent souls to death. Because of silence, over one million people perished during the reign of terror by the Khmer Rouge. Because of my silence, two innocent little girls were sexually abused. Silence ensures that history repeats itself.

Winning the Micah Award inspired me to make a drastic change in my life and not be silent anymore. After nine years of suffering, I finally decided to take the step I feared most—speaking out. With all the fear stored in my heart, I finally built up the courage to tell my mother that I had been raped. I was only nine years old when I was molested, but it took me another nine years to talk about it. The saddest part of it all is that a person my parents trusted—the baby-sitter—victimized me in my own home. After meeting many survivors of the Holocaust who felt ashamed of what had happened to them and even felt guilty, I can now relate to how painful it must have been to tell their stories. I always felt that what had happened to me was my fault, but I now know that I was just an innocent victim. I’m absolutely not the one who should feel guilty.

Recently, I was at a party with my cousin, when out of nowhere, I asked her if she had ever been sexually abused. I couldn’t believe I had asked her that, but the way she allowed her boyfriend to treat her reminded me of how I allowed my boyfriend to treat me. I was afraid of her answer because I didn’t want anyone else to go through what I had gone through. When she confessed that her uncle had molested her, I was shocked. That was the same person who had raped me!

Later that night, I couldn’t get that quote, “Whoever saves one life saves the world entire,” out of my mind. This was my chance to break the silence. If I could save at least one little girl from my ex-baby-sitter, I would be satisfied. I felt sad, but I also felt relieved because I knew that I wasn’t the only one. I guess that gave me more confidence to speak out. I decided that I was going to report him so that he would no longer be able to scar anyone else the way he scarred the lives of my cousin and me.

When I told my cousin that I had decided to report him she confided that a younger friend of ours had also been molested. Three young lives were affected forever. I know that there are probably more. I know that there will be more if I don’t do something.

So I have come to the conclusion that I will report him. I don’t want to report him just to get revenge. I just want to stop this injustice once and for all. Ms. G taught us that “Evil prevails when good people do nothing.” I am a good person. And I refuse to be a bystander any longer. So I’ll kill the problem at the root. I’ll save a life, and in the process, I’ll save the world entire.

Diary 130

Dear Diary,

We only have a few weeks before graduation. I sit here looking back at my four years of high school. I’ve been thinking about the quote “History repeats itself” that Ms. Gruwell talked about in class. Over the last four years, she’s shown us many situations of how the past is similar to the present. We’ve learned how the Germans tried to eliminate all of the Jews during World War II and how just recently the Serbians tried to eliminate all of the Croatians and Muslims in Bosnia during the 1990s. We also have seen how two diaries written during different time frames, one being Anne Frank’s and the other Zlata Filipovic’s, were both screaming out the hardships of a war. History seemed to repeat itself when Zlata became the modern Anne Frank.

Today, I carry the quote about history with me 24 hours a day. Nobody in my family has ever gone to college. I thought I was going to be the first to break this chain in my family. For a brief moment, this was a reality. I was accepted into a prestigious technical school. I had also received notification of my financial aid. I saw myself living the college life, all I needed was to graduate from high school.

Then, the unthinkable happened. My dad was diagnosed with a serious health problem and my life had to immediately change. Following this unpredicted situation, I had to decline acceptance to the college I was going to attend. All of the financial aid I once received I had to give back. I’m very sad, disappointed and, at certain times, frustrated by this decision. But, I have no other choice—my family must come first.

Since my dad was the only source of income before he got sick, I’ve had to become the man of the house. Being the man of the house means no more school for me and certainly more working hours. I also have to cheer up my mom and my younger brother. This is very hard for me because half the time I feel like crying, but I want them to think I’m strong. So most of the time, I hide behind a mask.

Since there is no money coming into our family, my mom had to give up the apartment we rented. She sold my dad’s car and most of our furniture to pay the bills my dad left behind when he went back to Mexico. Since he’s got a U.S. citizen, he had to go back to Mexico to get a kidney transplant.

Today, I look back and realize how amazing, precious, and powerful both time and life can be. In one second, you can be on top and have everything going your way. The next second, everything goes wrong and you find yourself at the bottom. Weeks before what is supposed to be the happiest time in my life, I find myself struggling just to pay for my graduation cap and gown. I’m not worried about being poor, though. After all, I’ve been there before. I come from a poor background, so it’s nothing new for me. (History does repeat itself, I guess.) I see it as going back to my roots. But, it was nice being on top for a bit.

At this point in my life, I feel like a dry leaf dropping from a branch of a tree, uncertain of its destiny. I’m just here waiting to see where the road of life takes me, and hopefully I’ll make the best out of it.

Diary 131

Dear Diary,

Wow! I’m an all-American! Me? I can’t believe it! I just got home from signing my letter of intent to play football at a PAC-10 school. A full-ride scholarship to college! Four years ago, I would have never pictured this. Football was just something I did along with drinking, smoking, and drugs. School was something I tried not to do. As I look at my life now, football is one of my top priorities, but just four years ago when I was a freshman, getting high was the only thing that mattered.

Since I was very young, maybe six or seven, I have wanted to be a football player. I played park league and Pop Warner football into junior high. But when new friends introduced me to drugs, I began to lose interest in football. I started drinking and smoking moderately in the summer after sixth grade. I was twelve years old.

My drug experimentation soon spun out of control. I started ditching school, stopped going to football practice, and dropped all my old friends. My new friends were all into drugs, too, so it made it easier to get high. This transformation took two years before full-on addiction. By the time I had reached my freshman year in high school, I was smoking pot three to five times a day. Besides smoking, I was drinking around the clock.

Soon drinking and smoking wasn’t good enough. I needed a bigger and better high. I tried everything that I could. I would try or do anything to get high. I had shroomed, tried many uppers and downers. I had tried acid (LSD) time and again.

The worst for me was nitrous. It was the most addictive drug I did. It was different than anything I had done. When I could not get it, it absolutely took control of me. Nothing else mattered. I had a nitrous oxide tank in my closet so I could get my daily high. I remembered one time when I had run out and it would take a day to get it filled up, but that was too long. I needed to get high right away, so I tried a whip cream bottle, but it did nothing for me. I remembered watching a news special that talked about how people get high with household cleaners. So that’s what I decided to do. I went into my closet and found some computer cleaner and it did the trick.

My mom and dad kept after me about my grades and stuff. They wouldn’t just let me go my own way. They didn’t know how bad my drug and alcohol use had gotten. My mom found out about Ms. Gruwell, who was doing all these cool things with her English class. Since my mom is big on reading, she got me into the class my junior year in hopes that I would “catch” some of Ms. G’s excitement.

Ms. G’s class, a camp experience with my church, and my parents’ continued encouragement helped me to see the mess I was making of my life.

I cannot believe that just a couple of years ago that was my life. Not only was I screwing up my brain but also my relationship with my friends and family. My mind-set was unbelievable. Now getting high is something I don’t even think about. I would much rather be with my friends or working out. I am so pumped that people who care about me saw my potential and never gave up.

I have been working hard in school and in the gym to be ready for football at the college level. I went from an F to the second-highest A in all the chemistry classes my senior year. I know I have what it takes and I am going to do what it takes to make my next goal, a college degree and an NFL career!

Diary 132

Dear Diary,

It’s amazing how life works in mysterious ways. My day started out with incredible news, but ended in tragic defeat. It went from a huge high to a huge low. In the morning, a major league team picked me in the first round to play professional baseball, and in the evening, my baseball team had to play in the semifinal round of the championship. This game would be my last chance to show how hard our team had worked all year. But it was hard to concentrate on the game because people from the stands were congratulating me about getting drafted. All this attention shoved unwanted pressure in my direction.

Unfortunately, the game ended in disappointment. My team lost, and just like that, my high school baseball career is over. It’s hard to take because I’ve played with these guys since I was in Little League. We’ve gone through a lot together, including two Little League World Series.

Still, the question of my baseball future is undecided. I have so much pressure to deal with. I can’t believe that at seventeen years old I have to make a decision that will dramatically affect the rest of my life. I recently signed a letter of intent to play baseball at a prestigious college. They’re offering me a full-ride scholarship. On the one hand, I know college could be one of the greatest times of my life, but on the other, starting my professional baseball career early could help me reach my goals sooner. I understand the demanding schedule of minor league baseball, but I also realize that I might not get a second chance to sign if I go to college.