What I’ve Learned
Natalia Ayala
That heroes don’t always wear capes.
My tío saves lives not with powers but a badge.
That beauty is not what’s reflected in a mirror.
I see it in my friend’s patience and kindness as he tutors me in statistics.
That there is nothing as contagious as laughter.
We clumsily dance the bachata at our cousins’ quinceañera.
That the underdogs can win.
Out of nowhere, my brother’s soccer team scores four goals in the second half.
That the good guy can lose.
My sister’s softball team walks away from their championship in defeat.
That the unknown can be an adventure.
We travel aimlessly but excited through the winding roads of Orocovis.
That everyone should follow their passions.
I push myself in class every day to pursue a career in film.
That family is everything, but friends can be more.
I call my friend JP with tears in my eyes after a rough day.
That I can be anything.
My father travels between New York and Connecticut, ready to work hard so I can go to school.
That no one is perfect.
My favorite photo: my mom’s hair wild as a bird’s nest, a smile as bright as the sun.
That grief isn’t linear.
Each time I watch a new film, I know that she would have sat by me, even if she hated it.
That to move forward does not mean to move on.
As I continue to grow and learn, I feel her by my side every step of the way.
That people come and people go, but they’re never forgotten.
We talk about the moments when she would pull everyone onto the dance floor.
That I am not alone.
I stand alongside my family, tíos, tías, and friends.
That I will be okay.
My mother told me so.
Natalia Ayala is from Ridgefield, Connecticut, and is expected to graduate in May 2027 as a cinema studies major. In her free time, she loves writing very short stories, watching films with family and friends, and baking when she has the time. This poem was inspired by her mother who passed away in November 2023. She writes, “Her life lessons will always guide me.”