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Class of 2018
In the reaches of space there exists a type of black hole. Massive in scale and scope, these giants devour even the stars around them. There is, however, hope, should a traveler be so unlucky to find themselves near one. Before one reaches the event horizon, if they manage to both accelerate to a speed close to that of light and leave something behind then, they may manage to escape.
On Earth, there is a similar concept: being born into poverty means that chances are you won’t have the opportunities to achieve success in this life. That is the black hole of the modern era: a never-ending whirlwind that traps individuals in a vicious circle from which they may find that not even the light of their dreams can escape. I did, however, mention the possibility of escape, so there is hope even in the light of insurmountable difficulty. Remember, though, that something has to be left behind for such a bold maneuver; this is a law of physics and in this scenario, a fact of life.
When my parents arrived to this country they had with them only three things: two dollars, each other, and a dream for their children that we would see opportunity – that someday we would be able to make a life for ourselves in a land where our education meant a better quality of life and a place where we were free to express ourselves. Contrary to how many people have treated my parents, they are not uneducated, their accents do not stem from unintelligence but from the strain of having to learn a new language in their 30s while balancing raising two children and working anything they could to sustain us and make sure we had everything we needed to flower. Many people in the United States struggle to master even their native language under half of that strain. In Cuba, my father was an economics professor, my mother a history professor, both highly respected. With the years, my mother has been able to earn a master’s degree at the University of Louisville and teach at Atherton High School, becoming effectively one of the best Spanish IB teachers there could be (before you accuse me of favoritism towards my mother look at the scores, they don't lie), and while that has caused her to encounter more struggles than I could write in a thousand blogs, that is not the focus of this one. The focus of this one is to highlight what is left behind when you’re escaping a black hole.
To escape something like a black hole you’re going to need an immense strength to be consumed, something’s going to have be given up so that the spaceship can move on to the stars. For longer than I have been alive my father, Modesto Bencomo, has worked two jobs. He has worked two jobs so that we would never be without someone in the house to take care of us. He has worked two jobs so that we would never be without health insurance. He has worked two jobs so that every time I wanted to do something crazy like build a rocket or learn how to ride a horse or learn archery I would have the funds to do such. He doesn’t work two jobs to this day, one at Kroger and one at UPS, because he isn’t cut out for more. He is a far more intelligent and motivated individual than I could ever aspire to be. Where I trudge through a scientific magazine to learn a few concepts, he devourers them to commit them to memory. He hasn’t remained stagnant because he lacks dreams. He has simply had the strength to do what few ever can, to sacrifice his dreams, his aspirations, and effectively his very life so that we can go on to be more.
Every time I do what others consider to be impossible for a child born to two refugee parents, I do it because it is made possible by the strength of a man who gave everything so that I, Frank Bencomo, could be anything. Flying to the Arctic, going to Space Camp, sitting in the Pentagon, being a scholar writing this article, all of it has been accomplished because of the man who once walked to his job for a month straight when he didn't have a car so I that would have it for my activities, a man who bought his clothes at Walmart while buying mine name brand, a father who didn't think twice when it came to the choice of what he needed and I wanted. He has done this with an indomitable spirt and strength of the soul which lights the lives of all those who he touches.
So next time you think it’s easy escaping a black hole, remember that you were never in it’s gravity well, and that not everyone is as lucky as I am to have a father who sacrificed himself, burning himself down to the core, to mold themselves into the rocket fuel their children need to reach the stars. I am able to grasp fruits from the tree of opportunity because of his shoulders upon which I stand.
Frank Bencomo-Suarez, of Louisville, Ky., is a sophomore McConnell Scholar studying physics and political science at the University of Louisville.