Inspiration is defined as the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative. Inspiration is what created the magnificent works of different artists, scientist, writers, and many others who have made the world a better place. Inspiration can not only be a thing, or an idea but it can also be a person. To me an inspirational person is an individual who inspires others to do their very best, to persevere even in the face of hardships, and a hard worker who remained honest, throughout their striving drive to move forward. In a word, inspiration is my mother.
Deisy Guerrero is the oldest of six children. She was born in a small town called Cuyamel, Honduras. Until this day some streets are still made of dirt and extreme poverty is evident. My mother, coming from this town, had very humble beginnings. She never knew the joy of having a toy or anything beautiful or savory. There was no electricity, so that meant no television. Her family had to take trips to the river to shower and do their laundry. Imagine taking a shower when it rained or the temperature made the water icy cold. From stories I have heard, the only time my Mom ever got new clothes was during Christmas time. As she recalls, "I didn’t have a childhood; I never had a birthday celebrated like other kids. I had to stay home and take care of my five other siblings while my parents picked coffee out in the fields." Not only did she have to take care of her younger brothers and sisters, she had to find time for schoolwork.
With loose-leaf paper intertwined together with yarn to form a notebook and a pencil, all carried in a plastic bag, she attended the nearest public school. During her high school years, she had to travel one hour and a half to get to school, via the public bus on dangerous dirt roads. There was a need to wake up at at 4 a.m. to catch the 5 a.m. bus, to be able get to school a little before 7 a.m. When school ended, it was another one and a half hours back; sometimes she stood up because there was no seat on the bus.
For college, my mother ended up moving to Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras. My grandparents worked very hard to pay her tuition, room and board. In those days there were no such things as scholarships and student loans; everything had to come from their pocket. Though sometimes she didn't have the money to eat, on a ninety lempira budget per month, which equals to about five dollars, she was the first in her family to attend college, and the only one to go to college out of her brothers and sisters. I always ask her why she decided to go to college especially in those conditions, and her answer has always been, "I wanted to get out of the misery I was in, and better my life." She chose to be a doctor as her profession, because her father, not knowing how to read or write, wanted the best for her. Additionally she wanted to help her community; the villagers had to travel two hours to get to the nearest health center. How can I not be inspired by such a strong-hearted woman who taught me that education was the key to success?
Since I can remember, there was no such thing as impossible in my Mom’s language. Saying the words “I can’t” wasn’t allowed in my household. Even when difficulties in school and other areas of life left me frustrated, my Mom never let me give up or turn back. She pushed me forward with a strong hand and comforted me tenderly, while still steering me in the right direction. She would always remind me how far my Dad and she have come; how many more opportunities I have; how much more I can do then they did. One of the many values my Mom inculcated into my value system was responsibility. Coming home from school, there was no such thing as a break; I ate a little snack and went right to work on my homework as soon as I sat at the table. Once I finished my responsibility, then I could play. She would always tell me that, “once the hard work is done,” then you can have fun. Until this day I still come home and do my homework before I do anything else. When I first moved to the United States from Honduras, I did not know any English, so Mom made me write stories and read them as I wrote them over and over again until I knew them by heart. Within a couple of years, I was out of the English Second Language program in my elementary school. In all of my school years I can only remember getting a B twice on my report card, and that is also thanks to Mom. One of the most wonderful lessons I thank my mom for is that she taught me: strive for the best, work hard until I get what I want and never look back. The only acceptable grade in my household is an A, and though B’s were good, A’s were better.
I had no doubts in my mind about going to college, or the career I wanted to pursue once I got to that milestone. When I was younger I wanted to be a doctor because both my parents are doctors, but as I got older I began to fall in love with the career. My Dad had also struggled to be where he is now, facing extreme poverty, he managed to go to school and become a pediatrician. My parents’ struggle inspired me to keep moving forward and to pursue my dream of going to college. I have so many more opportunities than they had. I have their support and every time I want to give up, I think of Mom riding the bus for 3 hours a day to go to school, it only takes me 15 minutes to get there. I think of how my dad didn't have anything to eat but he still managed to be who he wanted to be. No matter with what life threw at them, they moved forward, pushing little by little. They taught me to work hard, that things don’t come easy, but if you want it badly enough, you will obtain your greatest desire. My Mom and my Dad didn't let anything stop them from reaching their dreams, so why should I?
