My Saturday Mornings by Itzel

My Saturday Mornings by Itzel - April 2022 Scholarship Essay

It's Saturday morning, 6 a.m. My brother and I are in the back of my uncle’s beat up pickup truck, on our way to his construction job where we would routinely spend the day observing the workers, running store runs, helping clean up, and organize materials.

My uncle was a part of an immigrant-illegal immigrant crew. As we worked, I noticed that on one hand there were hard working relentless employees who perfected their part of the project, on the other there were almost equally as hardworking individuals who took their time and were content with a few errors. The first group of individuals, my uncle belonging to them, couldn't afford to settle. Working as an illegal immigrant meant if you couldn't do your job efficiently you were replaced with another who would do it better and for lower pay.

Watching my uncle work so hard to earn just enough to survive while others had the luxury to indulge in a few mistakes and breaks genuinely appalled me. A surge of emotions flowed through me from fury to melancholy to pride for my uncle's perseverance. I aspired to value and appreciate others' impartially, giving them an equal chance as I wished would’ve been given to my uncle and the other illegal immigrants.

In the classroom I aimed to make everyone feel welcomed. During discussions I tried to get everyone's perspectives, truly listening to their input and assuring that their voices were heard. I joined the multicultural club in efforts to ensure that all cultures at our school felt respected and represented. I affiliate myself with the HAMP, knowing how difficult it can be to find volunteer, internship, and work opportunities as a highschool student which has allowed me to collaborate with various individuals while presenting these educational opportunities.

Upon working in these distinct activities, I've personally grown remarkably. Through simply listening to others, I've come to truly appreciate every person who’s taken their time to talk to me. I'm grateful for those Saturdays with my uncle because perhaps without them I wouldn't have understood the value in every voice.