The Reflection of My Essence

I look at myself in the mirror.  I see my dark brown eyes, my dark but thin hair, my nose with my nose ring, and my lips.  My skin is white but tan.  My reflection does not display the mixture of races that lies within the Italian, the German, and the Dutch.  Despite the background, I am viewed as American.

As I stare, I see the reflection of the cars driving by, the train stopping on the tracks, and the clouds rolling in front of the sun.  The squirrels are scarce as winter weather is here.  The ground is lightly dusted with snow, which will probably melt by tomorrow.  I see the many college students walking and riding their bikes to class.  I see the ones racing the train as to not be late. 

Photo found on etruth.com

My mirror reflects the college life in northern Indiana.  It reveals the “norms” of college students.  I can see some doing dishes in the house next door.  I see others waiting to cross the busy street after a train has just passed.  I see a crowd of bikes outside of buildings all around campus.  I see the students with their book bags.  I see one of two looks on their faces: oh dang I forgot to do my homework or, I would rather skip this class and be in bed. 

If I look further, I see more than the cold of northern Indiana.  I can see into my home life in Ohio.  I can see the corn fields outside of my small town.  I can see Main Street lined with old buildings and empty lots where the oldest used to be.  Then I see the town.  I see the few local shops, the best Mexican restaurant there is, and one of the biggest super Wal-Mart stores in the area.

Then, I begin to see my second home.  As we ride in a mix between a 15-passenger van and the college sports bus, we drive into San Juan de la Maguana, Dominican Republic.  I see the arch as we enter the town.  I see the motorcycles weaving in and out of the cars.  I see the traffic signs that most don’t pay attention to.  I see the beautiful mountains of the countryside.  I see the apartment building where my Dominican family lives.  I see the beautiful walkway into the apartment.  I catch a glimpse of a life that affected me so much that it will never be forgotten.       

I look in the mirror and see more than a simple reflection.  I catch a glimpse of three lives rolled up into one.  I see a reflection of the culture and lifestyle of a college student.  I see a reflection of a life at home that was so normal for the first 18 years of life.  I see a reflection of the cross cultural experiences and newfound family.  I see my life rolled up into a bottle of experiences.