Soon, many students will embark on their first trip away from home. It could be their first plane ride. The first time having to make decisions independently. Looking back on July of 1988 as I stepped on my first plane ride to attend Loyola University’s “Lagniappe” or what I’d learn meant a little something extra, I had no idea how much extra was in store for me as I had an iron grip on my father’s hand sure I’d meet certain death if I boarded that plane without my trusted safety net, my dad. You’ll be fine, he said. It’s going to be great, he assured me.
Reluctantly, I let his hand go, sobbing and heaving, wondering what I was thinking, I’m not ready for any of this. Latin families are often perceived as being overprotective. Latin families with a daughter with medical challenges that don’t tell her she has said challenges are a whole other level of sheltering. Walking-delayed. Tying shoes, delayed. Driving-delayed. But getting the heck out of Dodge to figure out what life had in store for me and why everything was delayed- bring it on.
Although, in retrospect, the campus is not large, covering only four city blocks in total, it seemed like the size of a small city the first few times I walked it to get it straight in my head. Of course, this was before GPS or any electronic navigation system, and if there was a way to get lost and become disoriented, it happened to me. I often found myself at the front of campus, at the foot of “Touchdown Jesus,” thinking, “Okay, Lord, I’m here; what is my purpose?”
Panic-stricken. Yet, undeterred, I flew into the unknown to attend an orientation that would not only begin to shape my academic experience but also start to cement the career that has led me to not only understand my numerous challenges but also come to accept them.
If you’ve read anything about me or Admissions Untangled, you know that I was utterly unprepared for college or the numerous transitions that lie ahead. Neither college-ready nor college-capable, I was determined to understand why I wasn’t having the academic or social success that seemed to come so easily to my peers. These are all things I had to figure out on my own. I’ve had jobs where I was a mismatch, but I was still able to gain valuable experience. I’ve friends and family who dismiss my neurodivergence as laziness or a lack of effort, and rather than getting upset, I try to focus on what I’ve overcome. As we say in New Orleans, ‘les bons temps rouler.’ I stay in my land and do as I please.
