Mosaic

~ Isabella Acuña

Through the zoom screen, my mentor Bea’s face beamed as she excitedly shared her favorite piece of advice she had been given: “The life of a writer is so long”. I felt my spine unwind before her and remembered something fundamental that I’d been chronically forgetting in the midst of the senior storm, that life does not end at 22, that careers are nonlinear and evolving and can be a reflection of everything that we are. Her soft words urged me to loosen my grip on the next year and trust that no matter what happens, I will take care of myself. My other mentor Synclaire pushed the idea of what she called “gritted teeth optimism”, repeating that “you belong in every room you’re in” no matter what other people (or even you) want to think. I’ve since been repeating her mantras to myself whenever I feel small, and they’ve been feeding an internal revolution. Every day, I feel more like a tulip in that perfect moment in spring, rising against the challenge of the sun and beckoning it with a tall chest to come closer because I know that it can’t hurt me, that I will bloom again. My mentor Sofia poignantly described her past writing as an “exorcism” and handed me a beautiful, delicate speech about how writing belongs to no one but the writer. Listening to her, the shadows that had been looming over my shoulder dissipated, and the light shone down on all the power I’d forgotten I have when I sit with a pen in my hand. I remembered that writing is a simple right, and regardless of my career, it will always be within my grasp. With each mentor meeting, I’ve melted bit by bit further into myself, closer to that intangible shape of who I am that resides at my center. For the first time in a long time, I feel that my future can be a mosaic of everything I love and hold dear, everything that nourishes that bud of inspiration and breath within me. The fruits of my group’s labor—which barely felt like labor, since it consisted of building new and fulfilling relationships—culminated in our final project event, Seeds of Success: Blooming Together, this past Wednesday. Everyone arrived willing to offer their hearts on their chests, and by the end of the night, I felt my warm sense of joy at our joint accomplishment mirrored in each person’s beaming faces. We had done it, and as I watched new connections sprout across the room, I became sure that we would continue to march toward our growth together with our arms (or branches) open.