One of the more difficult questions I’ve ever faced isn’t trivial, or mathematical, it’s simple:
“Where are you from?”
Probably one the most common questions when first making an acquaintance, something I’ve learned first hand when meeting new people especially when I started college. I’m an army brat, and like a lot of military families I’ve been shipped off from place to place for the career of a parent. Granted when I’m asked this question, I give a long tale that has become a routine; “Was born in Alaska, my family is from California, and my immediate family is currently in Colombia (the current assignment).”
One thing I’ve learned from my experience of moving and meeting other military brats is that no two stories are the same. Some families stay state side and bounce from military base to military base; others travel to the ends of the earth to foreign embassies. Since the day I was born I’ve had the privilege of experiencing a life that has combined the two. At age 3 I had already traveled to opposing sides of the world when my family moved from Fairbanks, Alaska, to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I started kindergarten in a pure Spanish speaking school where even the teachers were unable to understand the new little American girl. This put me on a course to learn Spanish and accustom to have my name pronounced differently where my peers called me “Yessica” in the Argentine accent. So after two years of hunting for polo balls after tournaments and learning to ride a bike through the city streets, we were shipped off again.
Fast forward to when my family was stationed in Mexico City, I was no longer the only American in school, I was older and able to go along with my parents to explore a bit more of the country along with my two siblings. We would travel to places like Acapulco, the pyramids outside the city (piramide del sol y la luna, which to this day I remember that I was too stubborn to want to climb so high), or even ride the riverboats in Xochimilco. I remember that the extent of my knowledge of Halloween revolved around “dia de los muertos,” trick or treating between offices in the embassy and third grader me believing that my school was haunted because it was built across the street from a graveyard (little did I know I’d find UTampa’s haunted Plant Hall). And, as expected upon arrival, we moved.
Right after Mexico my family moved to Virginia right outside of DC, where I started to really see how my upbringing was different from my American peers. After growing up in foreign countries my siblings and I lacked some of the basic skills, such as being able to cross the street without causing panic for blindly chasing an ice cream truck through the neighborhood. For three years I learned what it was like to be a kid in the states full of summer camps, choir performances, wondering around malls with parent chaperones, and of course singing high school musical with friends. Cue move.
Probably my favorite place I’ve ever lived was in Jamaica where my school was so small that we would be with less than 30 kids per grade level. Between great classmates, competing in a middle/high school Caribbean soccer tournament, swimming with dolphins and traveling around the coast visiting beaches, Jamaica was unforgettable. I remember living in a fortress of a house designed to be a museum turned embassy housing with banana, mango, and coconut trees and an armed guard operating the front gate. During my time on the island there was a civil unrest period with conflicts resulting from capturing a drug lord. Being from the embassy we were driving around in a bulletproof van where forces outside where carrying heavy artillery weapons and school had been canceled for a week for our safety. And then we moved.
For high school I attended three different schools. I spent my freshman year in Colorado where I was reminded what cold felt like after Island life. There I learned to ski and enjoyed exploring trails on my cruiser bike full of trips for sour gummy worms and pink lemonade. After a year in a ski town I moved to the middle of Pennsylvania to a small town where I lived in a neighborhood with fellow military families who all had different tales of their own. Before I was off to college my family lived in El Salvador where the culture was drastically different from what I’ve become accustomed to. With beaches ideal for surfers, volcano lakes, military traditions naming me Army Queen and various dance filled occasions I really enjoyed my time there full of school traditions such as the “Dance Production” where the junior class preforms as a whole a dance show to raise funds for prom and even “la despedida” where we count down our last day as seniors while trashing the gym.
After 18 years my life has been anything but a routine. 12 moves, nine schools, and five countries later I finally got to pick where I wanted to go, not where the army wanted me to go. This is just my story and how I explain where I’m from, I’m from all the moves, all the people I’ve met, places I’ve been, and I wouldn’t change a single thing.
