When I was eight, for Christmas my parents bought me an Easy Bake Oven; they bought
me a Little Tikes kitchen as well. I remember the very first thing I baked were sugar cookies. I
sat there on the floor, carefully reading the instructions, and imagining the magical taste that was
going to be created. Once in the oven, my excited soul waited. Ding! The cookies were finished.
This magical moment between cookie and a hungry girl means a lot to me. I was eight, so being
able to do that on my own made me proud. I look back and realize that I don’t just love food, I
love the steps, the methods, and mostly the wait. It’s a beautiful and meaningful creation, how it
all comes together with love, technique, and the science behind it.
I would live with my aunt, mom, cousin, and younger brother. Every weekend my aunt
would buy a box of Betty Crocker cake mix and we would bake and decorate cupcakes. This
lasted for about two years, until I was eleven. Throughout this time, my mom and dad were
going through some issues. I would act oblivious to what was happening, however I knew
neither one of them were happy. My parents had me at a very young age; my father was eighteen
and my mother was pregnant with me at fifteen. What they wanted at that age was no longer
what they wanted currently, and me and my younger brother were stuck in the middle of the
storm. Baking and cooking, the mouth-watering tastes and smells, and the feeling of placidity
and love were all outlets for me. They became something closer to my heart than my family and
home. It became this way because my aunt would occupy me with baking, but really it became a
passion instead of a distraction. Whenever I was able to, I would give my parents some type of
baked good if they were fighting. I would see brightness gleam into their eyes, I would see their
straight faces slowly become smiles, and I would feel the warmth from my parents and myself. I
know this is what i want for the rest of my life. I see it as an achievement to no tlet problems
around me change me, but instead to do something one loves to help those who love you.
I want to spread love around the world through food. My heart and soul are filled with
happiness when I see food beig shared, when I see food being made, and when I see people
eating food. Food is essential to every human being; it’s a slice of life. Food carries the
following: flavors, textures, layers, cultures, traditions, comfort, life, taste, smell, beauty,
complexity, instruction, creativity, pride, generations, but most importantly, it carries happiness
from one person to the next. Provides happiness to all genders, all religions, all races, all
countries, and anyone inhabiting the Earth. That is what happiness is to me and that is what I
would love to do for the rest of my life.
The biggest part of me that I feel differentiates me from most is that my parents were
born in Mexico, and I as well was born in Mexico. I was brought here illegally by the age of two.
I found out about me not being a citizen by the age of twelve. Then, everything made more sense
to me, because my parents would never let me do anything in fear that something could go
wrong. I wasn’t allowed to attend any sleepovers, or carpool with any of my friends. Back then it
made me so upset, however, now looking back I’m thankful my mother did that for me. For the
longest time I didn’t know what was going to happen to me or my life because all the plans and
goals that I had no longer seemed to be at my reach. Thanks to my mother I am a DACA student,
making me able to apply for certain scholarships, I also have a SSN and am able to apply to
places in order to get a job. Currently, I’m studying in order to obtain my permit and hopefully
later my license. I am so thankful to have my mother, to have food, and to be able to see my
goals and plans once again.