I mean really who doesn't, right?
Growing up my family and I visited our home country, Brazil, quite frequently. In fact, it was the standard routine. Every two or three years summer vacation would come and halfway through July we would be boarding a plane heading south for Minas Gerais. But sometimes I'd hear my mom's sighs when she'd see pictures of beautiful mountainsides in Austria and Switzerland, or on the beaches of the Caribbean. I even remember the way she'd excitedly show me photos of her childhood best friend who left Brazil to live in Aruba, Portugal, and Italy throughout my lifetime. Yet my mom never wandered away from our routine. Arriving in central Minas, visiting my grandparents and our extended family, maybe attending a wedding and a series of barbecues and dinners to catch up with my dad's old co-workers.
Still, it bugged me to see my mom fail to live her dream, a dream I shared, to see the globe. And to this day she has yet to go to the places that line the corners of her mind, including Ouro Preto, a beautiful and tremendously historic city just a 6-hour drive from where my mother grew up! This isn't a critique of the way my mom has chosen to live her life or spend her time and money. In fact, this isn't really about her at all. This is about a legacy I chose to break away from.
As a first-generation American, I know all too well I've been awarded a myriad of privileges my own grandparents never held in their hands, beginning with not just one, but two passports. And the matching citizenships, of course. I've always lived comfortably, had access to a safe and happy childhood, received stellar education resulting in a bachelor's degree, and had the space to do and become pretty much whatever I wanted. Traveling the world was never too ridiculous, and yet there was never the right time or budget for it. After all, if there was an extra two cents to rub together, they were used to get back to the motherland. Now of course, both of my parents had a simple priority to see their own parents, whom I'm blessed to say all survived long enough to walk me into my adulthood. Of course, it makes sense they would spend their resources on being with the siblings and family they'd left behind or parted ways from. Yet, I saw that longing in my mother's eyes. I constantly heard my father's fascination with ancient relics, and the history of long-forgotten cities buried deep under the wonders of the world.
Breaking the cyclical back and forth between our homeland to explore more of the world is really where my story begins. And where I hope to build my own legacy. Because the fact of the matter is that my greatest privilege isn't just having my two passports, but also getting them stamped. Watching the sacrifices my own family made as I grew up has shown me the opportunities I've been awarded and am tired of taking them for granted. Making the decision to discover new places and meet new people does take me away from the comforts of home. But I have to have faith I was built for far more than a small town can hold. And even more exciting, one day I get to pass down this gift to my own children. One day, the album of photos will be of us in every corner of the globe. I can only hope there is enough film in the world to capture it all.
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