Come recess time at precisely ten o’clock, I walked towards the rickety-old yellow bicycle wagon to buy enchiladas from a vendor at my school. Cold, judgemental stares lashed at my back. Despite living in Belize my entire life, I was a foreigner in the eyes of my peers. With an almost inaudible voice and near-perfect grades, I was the epitome of a nerd who was to be alienated at all costs. Yet, I still launched myself into the group of Mestizo kids huddled together, laughing at some joke I didn’t quite catch. But my presence was ignored. As a ten-year old, learning that I was an outsider was a devastating revelation. It would have been even more devastating if I had allowed myself to be put down by the rejection from my classmates, but I didn’t. Instead of allowing myself to wallow in self-deprecation, I treated my racial adversity as a platform for discipline and diligence. …show more content…
However, my taciturn personality did not contribute much help to the scant conversations I had. At the end of the year, I became a Peer Helper, or peer mentor, of my school. Who would have expected it to play such a crucial role in moulding my personality? During my first training session, I met a determined senior who urged me to step out of my boundaries and speak up in front of a crowd -- something I had refrained from doing for years. Edwardo’s incessant encouragement kindled within me a desire to not only accept myself and my own opinions, but those of others too. Occasionally departing from my traditional dim sum and white rice, I sampled Mestizo dishes like relleno (black soup) and tamales. I absorbed the vibrant culture that I had somehow been oblivious to for all these