As I grow older, I have come to realize many things about myself, especially the attributes that make up my character.
While my heritage and culture have shaped my upbringing, I strongly believe that being the oldest child in my family has had a huge impact on my perception of the world around me.
Coming from a Hispanic family and being the oldest of three, it is evident that I approach certain situations more maturely now that I am in college.
No matter what others may argue, it does matter which child you are, whether it be the first, middle or last.
Being the oldest and the first to go to college in my immediate family, there are still many barriers I need to break through.
My parents, like many in this country, are immigrants.
Throughout my two years here at Cal State Long Beach, I have had some trouble – in one form or another – in trying to explain things to my parents.
I have come to realize that in a sense, we all fit the stereotype of each child we are.
My parents are always worried about my security because I am sometimes out late at night, I drive, and I’m in contact with a variety of strangers throughout the day.
My sister, who is the middle child, is overlooked most of the time. She is quiet and very independent.
Finally, the youngest, my brother, is given a lot of time and attention.
This is not a pattern I see only in my own life, but others’ lives as well.
My friends, who happen to be the youngest, oldest or in the middle children of their families, all have different lifestyles, responsibilities and worries.
While I am at college, I am able to interact with various people from different cultures, backgrounds and upbringings. Having friends who are Asian, black or Caucasian makes me realize how much of a role culture plays in my everyday life.
I was brought up with the idea that I had to be scared of everything that was new to me.
Oftentimes, I believe this comes from a lack of communication between my parents and me.
My parents are not fluent in English and did not grow up in California.
Being foreign to this country, even though they’ve lived here for years, has somehow become a form of miscommunication between them and me. The way I see it, my parents raised me the best they could through trial and error.
Jovanna Madrigal is a sophomore journalism major and a contributing writer for the Daily 49er.
