Ana El Beleidy / Colombia
Hello, my name is Ana El Beleidy, I am 38 years old, soon turning 39. My maiden and FULL name is Ana Luisa Valdivieso Aragón. I am from Cali, Colombia, and I arrived to the USA permanently on March 23, 2000, EXACTLY 18 years ago today, as I’m writing this essay.
My story in this country didn’t begin with me. My road was paved for me by my mom’s older sister, Soledad Aragón Triviño, who came to the USA back in the 1970’s. She came as most people from my country do: A tourist visa, not a word of English, no money in her pockets, and big expectations. She cleaned houses for people when she first arrived. She then married a man with the last name of Ellis and that’s how she became “legal”. I’ve never really known if she married him for love or for a Green Card. She became a citizen and moved up with many different skills. She was a Realtor, she was a Notary Public, and she even did a little CPA work. She worked as a travel agent.
She petitioned for my Grandmother and Grandfather’s Green Card to come live in the US permanently. Their wish was granted in the 1980’s. Both my grandparents moved here, and I was devastated. My grandmother, in turn, petitioned my uncle (my mother’s younger brother) and my mother. I was included in the whole mix as I was a minor. My uncle came first in 1993, leaving a VERY PREGNANT girlfriend. He made it to his son’s birth, and then he came to start his new life. It was very hard for him, but he created a good future for his new family here. His family followed when my little cousin was about 6 years old. For the first 6 years of my cousin’s life, he didn’t have his father next to him.
In 1999 it was our turn. We were very well off in Colombia. My stepdad was a very well-known anesthesiologist and my mom was a Registered Nurse who ran the Neurosurgery department in one of the city’s main University Hospitals. The decision to come was not easy. We were leaving a good life to join our family and become whole again. We didn’t know the struggles that we were going to have. Especially me. My parents decided to move forward with relocating, and after seeing our ENTIRE LIVES being bought and picked up (our belongings), we were left with an empty house, and a lot of uncertainty.
My father retired before moving out here. His transition was easy. He just wanted to rest. Got an easy job at a fruit packing company and worked there until he became of retirement age. My mother validated her RN license here and still practices.
Me? Here is where I was forced to grow up. I had never done anything for myself. We had a live-in maid. My mom said: Things are different here; you need to find a job. I did. Not even a month after I arrived here, I was working. I had to clean my first toilet at work. It was “my turn” as my boss would tell me, even though my job was to sell jewelry. I came home and cried all night. It was a rude awakening. I learned here that life is not easy. That people are not always kind. That my name, last name, and physical characteristics gave some people the “right” to tell me to go back living next to a river in trees with vines. I had been called “dirty”. I have even been treated badly by people who speak my own language.
Going back to Colombia to visit is always a breath of fresh air. People are so nice there! Everyone has a smile for you. Everyone says hello. People are not afraid of touch, or a hug, or a kind gesture. I owe so much to this country. I live feeling safe, I have a very good job, I had the opportunity to go to school, get my RN license as well, and my kids have lots of help, since they are both special needs. We have a lot of resources which we might not have back in Colombia. But I have learned hard lessons as well.
I don’t regret coming here, and I don’t plan to move back to my country. But I go as much as I can, because I miss my people’s warmth. We sacrifice some things to gain others, and I guess that’s not only here in the USA.
I am proud of my Hispanic heritage. I carry it with my head held high. It made me the person I am today. I love my roots, my culture, my food, my music. It is who I am. And it will always be where I belong, wherever the world should find me.
My story in this country didn’t begin with me. My road was paved for me by my mom’s older sister, Soledad Aragón Triviño, who came to the USA back in the 1970’s. She came as most people from my country do: A tourist visa, not a word of English, no money in her pockets, and big expectations. She cleaned houses for people when she first arrived. She then married a man with the last name of Ellis and that’s how she became “legal”. I’ve never really known if she married him for love or for a Green Card. She became a citizen and moved up with many different skills. She was a Realtor, she was a Notary Public, and she even did a little CPA work. She worked as a travel agent.
She petitioned for my Grandmother and Grandfather’s Green Card to come live in the US permanently. Their wish was granted in the 1980’s. Both my grandparents moved here, and I was devastated. My grandmother, in turn, petitioned my uncle (my mother’s younger brother) and my mother. I was included in the whole mix as I was a minor. My uncle came first in 1993, leaving a VERY PREGNANT girlfriend. He made it to his son’s birth, and then he came to start his new life. It was very hard for him, but he created a good future for his new family here. His family followed when my little cousin was about 6 years old. For the first 6 years of my cousin’s life, he didn’t have his father next to him.
In 1999 it was our turn. We were very well off in Colombia. My stepdad was a very well-known anesthesiologist and my mom was a Registered Nurse who ran the Neurosurgery department in one of the city’s main University Hospitals. The decision to come was not easy. We were leaving a good life to join our family and become whole again. We didn’t know the struggles that we were going to have. Especially me. My parents decided to move forward with relocating, and after seeing our ENTIRE LIVES being bought and picked up (our belongings), we were left with an empty house, and a lot of uncertainty.
My father retired before moving out here. His transition was easy. He just wanted to rest. Got an easy job at a fruit packing company and worked there until he became of retirement age. My mother validated her RN license here and still practices.
Me? Here is where I was forced to grow up. I had never done anything for myself. We had a live-in maid. My mom said: Things are different here; you need to find a job. I did. Not even a month after I arrived here, I was working. I had to clean my first toilet at work. It was “my turn” as my boss would tell me, even though my job was to sell jewelry. I came home and cried all night. It was a rude awakening. I learned here that life is not easy. That people are not always kind. That my name, last name, and physical characteristics gave some people the “right” to tell me to go back living next to a river in trees with vines. I had been called “dirty”. I have even been treated badly by people who speak my own language.
Going back to Colombia to visit is always a breath of fresh air. People are so nice there! Everyone has a smile for you. Everyone says hello. People are not afraid of touch, or a hug, or a kind gesture. I owe so much to this country. I live feeling safe, I have a very good job, I had the opportunity to go to school, get my RN license as well, and my kids have lots of help, since they are both special needs. We have a lot of resources which we might not have back in Colombia. But I have learned hard lessons as well.
I don’t regret coming here, and I don’t plan to move back to my country. But I go as much as I can, because I miss my people’s warmth. We sacrifice some things to gain others, and I guess that’s not only here in the USA.
I am proud of my Hispanic heritage. I carry it with my head held high. It made me the person I am today. I love my roots, my culture, my food, my music. It is who I am. And it will always be where I belong, wherever the world should find me.