Statement

My early memories of Colombia and those of my first years as an immigrant in New York, although remote now, are still very alive in me. I spent my childhood and adolescence there, and arrived in the CIty as a young adult.

In my family, telling a story is our way of bonding. Nobody is brief in my family; everyone needs to tell a story when they speak to one another. Whether you are asking for directions or wondering if you will get to your doctor’s appointment on time, you will hear a story. This doesn’t happen only in my family, it is a cultural aspect of many Colombians. We like to bond through stories. Storytelling is one of our forms of empathy. 

I grew up surrounded by stories, passed on from one person to another, through the spoken word. That’s how I learned about my ancestors. From an early age, I have known my grandparents’, their parents’, and their grandparents’ names—and at least one fact about each of them. This information has enabled me to piece together a unique memory quilt that serves today as my creative armor and is the foundation for the narrative of my character. Recounts and imagery have been part of my cultural, emotional, and intellectual development from early childhood. My parents spoke to us constantly; through anecdote they taught us to discern good from bad, and through repetition they insured we understood the importance of passing on a story.

History is invariably linked to storytelling. Stories persist despite progress or age. They allow us to survive our presents and invite us to imagine our possible futures. That’s probably why children crave them and adults remember them: stories teach us, protect us, and invite hope.