My mom and I fight all the time. We fight about clothes, my bad cook- ing, and choices I make. Arguments start mostly in my room. We both have really strong personalities, and when they come together, it just clashes. It'll be about the dumbest thing. She’ll be like “Your room’s messy.” And I’m like, “I’m going to clean it.” And then we just start arguing. We bring past situations into the arguments. I feel angry, but also frustrated. Not angry at her, but angry that I’m not being heard. I feel like I don’t have a say in choices. And I don’t like it when people control me. I don’t like not having control.

I come from the Dominican Republic, but I come from a part of the capital that’s considered the most dangerous, the most ghetto. You see many differ- ent things. You see your neighbors, being neighbors, but also see the person who might end up robbing you at the end of the night living next to you.

When I was little, at parties, I always enjoyed playing more with the boys. But my mom always urged me to go play with the girls and dolls. It was easier with the boys, because I was in control and was never told what to do. Everyone did their own thing.

Over there, I feel that young girls are treated as objects, they aren’t treated as individuals. It’s 2019 and it angers me. So many girls my age have their own family, they have to learn to be the woman of the house, stay home and take care of their kids. So many girls don't get to have an education, and if they do, they don't get much farther than high school. There are so few jobs, and few people want to hire a young pregnant girl, or one who has a newborn at home. But they also judge girls who are in their twenties, don’t have any kids and are going to college. It's considered bad both ways.

My mom left my dad when I was seven, he started to get too controlling with the money. He would work, go out, and come home with no money. He fell into a passion for gambling. They had arguments, he put his gambling first and his family in danger. She finally gathered her strength and left. We stayed with family members for a while, going from house to house. After some months we came to the United States.

Here in the United States, we have lived together on our own. Since I was little I would often have to translate for my mom. Some days I couldn't go to school, because my mom needed me as a translator at appointments. I had to be her voice everywhere we went. Because of this I came to be more independent.

Recently, I’ve started getting piercings. My mom did my first one when I was little, right at the hospital. But I slowly began doing my own things without telling her. She still thinks I’m too young to make the decisions on my own It’s not like I’m going against her. But in a way, it satisfies me, because it shows her I can be independent and I can make decisions for myself.

But, while we argue, we’ve also learned to not take our arguments and hard words deeply. At the end of the day she's my rock. I’ve seen my mom go through so much, I’ve seen her struggle when she had to follow the expec- tations of others. She’s taught me to not be the ‘’typical’’ girl. I don’t want to keep the cycle going.

If anything happens to me I know I can always come to her and she will be by my side. I say this with security because she's been through everything with me, she knows that she has raised me to be strong, independent, and a hardworking young woman.

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