Shawon Jackson

First Full Day in El Progreso, Yoro (7/2/12)

Today began quite differently than any typical morning I’d have at school. Instead of waking up to the sound of any alarm and rushing to do homework, I woke up to the sound of roosters at 6 a.m. – at least you can depend on them to (usually) wake you up on time, I suppose.

For breakfast, I tried frijoles (which are beans), along with eggs and tortillas. I’ve quickly found that tortillas are extremely common here. When talking to Oscar and Marcela (my host brother and sister), I learned that the type of food I like (which is, admittedly, “junk food”) is called comida chatarra. I’ll have to work on eating healthier in the future, though, because here, that seems to be my only option.

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Life in Honduras: Overall Impression and Day One (7/1/12)

It’s the murder capital of the world, they say. Random robberies. Killings. Frequent attacks. “It doesn’t happen everyday,” as one of my friends put it, “but it happens to everyone.” This is Honduras, a part of it at least. As the days neared for my departure, I was beyond paranoid. “How fast will I need to walk to avoid being approached?” I wondered. Will I be able to ask anyone for help if I get lost? And what’ll happen if I actually do get lost? 

Ironically, though, by the time I landed, I felt ready. Sure, there was the safety concern, but aside from that, I didn’t feel as if anything would be a surprise when I got there. I went over the pre-departure packet, talked to people who’d been to Honduras, and constantly reread my boss’ e-mails about what to expect: I should be prepared for water to stop a few times every couple of weeks; I might have to wash up using a bucket; there’ll be a ton of insects and mosquitos, so bug spray is a must; I’ll need comfortable clothes because it’s extremely hot; I might not have internet access 24/7; and the list goes on. Got it. Comprendo. I’m ready.

But after just a thirty-minute drive from the airport, I was exposed to the “Honduran reality”: stray dogs, dirt roads, mud in front of houses where I’d expect grass. Poverty was beyond evident. And slowly, the Honduran reality began to settle in. By the time I arrived at my host family’s home in El Progreso, Yoro, I realized that I wasn’t actually as “ready” as I thought I was – at all.

Life in Honduras, after just two weeks, has been much  more complex and eye-opening than I initially imagined. Everything is just different: the people, the food, the work environment, the social life. Not in a good or bad way, though…just different. Yet I appreciate these differences. In fact, it’s the striking differences between my culture and Honduran culture that make this eight-week journey: worthwhile.

Meaningful.

Life-changing. 

And it all began on day one. 

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In Spanish, even the simple words sound beautiful.

A historical day in America: ObamaCare has been ruled Constitutional. Thank you, Supreme Court. :) 

What if you found out - after being admitted to the school of your dreams - that you didn’t have a social security number? What if you had no idea that your parents brought you to America when you were just 3 years old? What if you felt like an American your entire life, and then suddenly found out that - “legally” - you weren’t one? What if this were your reality; would you consider it just? 

These are the sort of questions that this video makes us consider. It gives us a snapshot of the lives of real, undocumented students: students who are successful, passionate, hard working, and at the very core, American. 

While born in a different country, many undocumented youth have lived here in America just as long as we have; they went to the same schools, grew up in the same environment, watched the same shows, ate the same food, and have the same hopes and dreams that we do. Let’s not forget that. These youth are still American. And now, they just ask to finally be recognized as such.