Growing a Soul

Growing up in the Bronx, I realized early on that this wasn’t a place for me. In the Bronx you witness many things you shouldn’t have to see. You have to be street smart and quick on your feet so you know how to react to any and all situations; these are traits you have to pick up just to survive, and to this day, I still don’t think I have learned them all.

My neighborhood is very rowdy. There are fights every day and police on every corner. I love it for how upbeat it is, and how there’s always something going on, but I hate it for that same reason. I’m scared to go out at night. When I entered my teens, many of the boys I grew up with joined gangs and started to be in the street. Soon the people I used to call my friends were people I was scared of. If the gangs aren’t enough to keep me inside at night, the disputes are. It seems like every night two girls will fight over a guy, and sometimes it’s the adults doing the fighting. A couple might get into a fight about something that happened earlier that day.

I sometimes have trouble with the boys who are outside—they won’t leave you alone. One time this boy took my keys and told me he wasn’t going to give them back until I gave him my phone number. I got very scared. I am a quiet person who likes to observe the situation before acting or speaking. My neighborhood isn’t for people whose personality is like mine.

When I decided I wanted to go away for college, it was for two reasons: I wanted to get away from New York City and see the world, and I wanted to see who I was without my identical twin sister, Tara. My sister and I are best friends, but I didn’t feel that I had an identity separate from hers, so we agreed to go to different schools. She went to St. John’s, in Queens. I ended up at Syracuse, a school five hours and light years away from her, from my friends, and from the Bronx.

I came to Syracuse in the summer of 2007, and I was amazed by how pretty it was. The buildings were old-looking, like something you would see in a movie. The sidewalks were so clean, and everything seemed to move more slowly. It was very peaceful and so different from the Bronx. For once in my life I felt really safe. This was just the first of my many surprises.

The work was a big shock. It wasn’t that it was much harder—it was the amount. In the summer, when I first came to college, I assumed I would do it all, but once I made friends, I wanted to spend time with them instead of doing my homework. Even now, in my junior year, I still have problems completing all my assignments. In high school it was easy to put work over friends, because doing well, and getting out of the Bronx, was my number one priority. In college, I’d rather socialize and make personal connections than do work. Living with friends makes it even harder to stay on task; there are many days when I know I have a paper due, but I’d rather go out. When this happens, I have to ...