Rosa's a success story
by Edward Patrick
Up until six months before i met her, life for Rosa Perea had been easy. Her father was a wealthy Plantation owner in Nicaragua. Her family owned alarge hoouse with all the comfort of the rich. Then came the same type of violent civil war that torn apart so many Latin American countries.
Rosa's father was identified as a supporter of the rebel cause, and the family's plantation was seized. During the goverment takeover, her father was shot and killed. Her mother gathered as much money as she could and fled with Rosa and her two younger brothers, Adolpho and Roberto. Therir destination was ther United State. Rosa's mother knew a man who knew another man who could get them through Mexico adn across the U.S border into Texa or California. There was nothing to worry about, they were told, Rosa believed it.
At first, things went smoothly. Twelve others joined Rosa and her family. The group had no trouble geting into and across Mexico. But just before they were to cross into California, the guide said he could go no futher. Another man would take them the rest of the way. Rosa's mother protested, but no avail. They were led across by a man they did not know He told them to follow his every command. They must move quickly and silently or risk detection by hoped was the distance. Everyone was tired and frightened.
And then came the bright lights. Just as they were about to cross into the United States, the U.S. Border Patrol sighted the group and turned on the searchlights on their jeeps to track them down. People scattered. Rosa held on to Adolpho and Roberto. She looked back, but could not see her
mother ."Aqui. Ahora," (here, Now.) commanded their guide, appropriately called a "coyote." Rosa blindly followed him and watched as the lights of the jeeps sped after the others. They waitd quietly for what seemed like hours. Only when he was convinced that it was safe did their guide take the five who had managed to follow him the rest of the way. Eleven were not with them, including Rosa's mother.
I first saw Rosa three months after this nightmare. I arrived at my office early, wanting to prepare for my classes. I was annoyed that someone was standing outside my office so early in the morning. But I spoked with her, and I soon realized that there was something special about this slender, dark-skinned young woman with large, expressive brown eyes, I didn't know then sentiment: " You don't know me, but you can believe in me." It was magnetic. I knew that I would help her in any way I could.
Rosa wanted to learn English. She wanted to do more than just get by. Her halting English told me she could manage that already. She wanted to able to read and write the language so that she could provide for her brothers. My basic class had been recommended to her. She asked what materials she could get to work on even before the semester started.
Eager students are always easy to work with, and Rosa proved to be one of my most enthusiastic students. She kept me on my toes and constantly challenged me. she prodded me to provide more information, additional examples, better explanations. If I used a word she didn't understand, she would stop me. She would make me explain it so that she and her classmates could grasp the meaning. If we looked for the main idea in a paragraph and her answer was different from mine, she insisted on giving the reasons why she felt she was right and I was wrong. I could not always convince her that my answer was better. But I always encouraged her to ask questions whenever she was confused or unconvinced. I looked forward to the class she had enrolled in, but I was always exhausted to its conclusion.
Rosa advanced from our basic reading classes to the more difficult study-skills class. Then she moved through the writhing classoffered in the department. She enrolled in the Early Childhood Program at the college. This is a program which can lead to certification as a childcare worker. Her progress in her classes was reflected in a steady stream of A's and B's.
It took Rosa three years to complete the course work that she needed to graduate. I made plans to attend the graduation cermonies where she would receive her associate's degree. She insisted that I attend the graduation her friend, Alberto, was giving for her. I said I would be honored to go.
The ceremony was typical, with boring speeches made for proud accomplishments. The graduation party was something special. Rosa had come a long way in the three years I had known her. She had made some wonderful friends, had found a decent job for at a nearby daycare center, and had provided a good house for her two brothers.
Rosa greeted me when I arrived. She wanted me to meet everyone there, and she hinted at a suprise had for me.
"Dr. P, may I present to you my brother, Adolph and Roberto."
" Much gusto," ( "Glad to meet you") I began.
"Right," said the smaller brother. " Call me Bobby. Nice to meet you, Doc, Say, You don't mind if me and Al " mingle," if you know what I mean?"
I commented on how quickly her brothers had adjusted to life in the States. But Rosa seemed proccupied. I was puzzled until I was that we were walking toward an older woman who had tha same brown expressive eyes as Rosa. It was her mother.
Rosa's mother had been captured by the Border Patro and deport to Nicaragua. There she was put in jail > Rosa had been depressed over her mother's lack of freedom she and her brothers enjoyed. She had located her mother and worked for close to three years to get her released. I don't know all the details of how she did it. Perhaps it is best that I don't. At the movment I met her, I din't not care at all about how she had attained her freedom. I was just overjoyed that she was here with her children.
Rosa entered San Diego State University, some ninety miles away. As often happens with students, who move on, I saw very little of her. She was working hard toward a degree in early childhood education, I was on leave for ayear,, and our paths rarely crossed. Sometimes she would come by right before Christmas or as the end of a school year.She stopped by the office again yesterday, with purpose. She carried two babies in her arms. The six-months-old twin were hers. Their huge, expressive brown eyes told me that before she did.
Rosa proudly told what had happened in the five years since her graduation. I listened enthusiastically as she told me about receiving a bachelor of arts degree, marrying Alberto, opening a child-care center with him, and giving birth to their twin sons. " And now," she said, " I want to tell you their names. This is Alberto." she said, nodding toward the larger twin. Then she looked toward the smaller one. Her eyes smiled as much as her mouth. "He is smaller, yes, but obviously more intellectual. That is why we have chosen to name him Eduardo."
I gasped, tried to collect myself, but did not succeed. Rosa came to the rescue. She calmly explained that Alberto and she decided to name the baby after me because of all the help I had provided when she needed it most. I babbled something about how proud felt. It was true.
Some people, I know , boject to the flow of immigrants entering our country. They forget that almost of us came to America from somewhere else. We need every so often to be reminded of success stories like Rosa's. Like many of our ancestors, she fled an oppressive goverment and poor economic conditions. She then worked hard to create a new life for herself. Hers is not an uncommon story. Many others like her have come to enrich their lives, and they have enriched our country as well....
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