CTRL-V: Do you know how it feels to be a dog inside a cage? OR maybe a bird? How 'bout a kid?... No, you say!... ... ... Maybe... ... ... Hmmm... :SSome people might have an idea of what it feels like, others have no idea; some don't even care, and others live their whole lives feeling this way. I'm really hoping not to be the latter!!!
However, since I was a little kid I've always felt trapped. As if I was never allowed to experience life, barely breathing the air from out side the walls of my house. Don't get me wrong, I was able to go out and play with friends and visit family, but it was an emotional state of mind that made me feel trapped.
I was born, like everybody else, with natural talents, and an unique set of skills and character traits. Additionally, I was brought up to believe that you had to work hard to earn your keep, and getting an education was the #1 priority (Which I totally agree with). This gave me the reason to put myself in this emotional "cage." My parents (with the best intention in the world) over-protected me in ways that somehow, someway, made me loose faith in myself. To no fault of their own, they were just doing what a parent knows how to do: Protect their child from disappointment.
To this day I still struggle with trying to take care of a problem without thinking about calling my father. Don't get me wrong, is great that my father was, is, and always will be there for me when I need him, but when you take away a child's will to work things out on his own, you disable him for life. I love my parents, and think that without them I will not be who I am today, and probably wouldn't have accomplished all I've accomplished to this day. They are my role models and I wouldn't trade them for the world.
However, I felt disabled for a long period of time during my youth. I remember how proud I was of my athletic skills as I was developing into a teen. I was also very proud of my intelligence and my good will to help others. Nonetheless, I never had an objective, something that drove me, a goal in life... nothing. My only dream was to be able to play baseball professionally; a dream that was shattered when I came to the US.
It's funny how words can have such a devastating effect on children. I was only 12 when we finally moved to the US, and when we were signing up for High School we had to meet with my assigned Guidance Counselor. My mom and older sister where there with me while the counselor tried hard to speak some Spanish mixed with basic English words to help us understand what he was saying. He first interviewed my sister, and asked her a lot of questions. I was listening in, and found some of those questions hard for me to answer. They were all about what you wanted to do in college, and where you saw yourself in 5 or 10 years. I was puzzled by it, but at the same time I was not afraid to answer honestly. He asked my sister what profession she wanted to pursue as her career profession, my sister answered "Engineering," without hesitation. Then he finished writing on my sister's file, and opened up a second folder with my name on it. As he asked me questions, I was feeling more and more comfortable; especially with the English language since he was asking all the questions to us in English.
But the life-changing question came along without interruption. When he got to the last question, I was already expecting it, and, to tell you the truth, was a little anxious and excited to tell this American Counselor what I wanted to become when I grow up. He asked me the same question he asked my sister: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" and without wasting a second I excitedly said a "Professional Baseball Player!" After all, this was my ultimate dream, and I had the skills, the talent, and the poise to make it far in MLB (or so I thought). However, the counselor responded to my answer as quick as I responded to his question, but with a big low blow. "Your out!" he said, as he nodded, and looked at my mom for some support. He then continued saying "that's not a profession, you need to choose something that you can study in college." I looked at him puzzled, and insisted: "No, I want to be a Professional Baseball Player," but my mom jumped in (in Spanish of course, and probably not thinking about what to say because she was probably just embarrassed at the fact that I said that) and told me (Translation) "Alex, that's not a serious profession, that's not going to get you anywhere! Tell the man a 'Profession' not a game." I looked at her with disappointment, and then looked at the counselor, reluctantly answering: "Engineering..." The counselor smiled and said, "Now, that's a real career!"
Who gave him the authority to say that becoming a professional athlete is not a profession? Worst, who gave him the right to say that my dream was not worth any consideration? At that moment I saw my entire world crash and burn. When the opportunity came to supposedly "come out of that emotional cage" in the land of opportunities (USA) I was pushed back in buy a Guidance Counselor. I will never know if I was MLB material, and I will die with the guilt of never trying. It really saddens me, to the point where I want to do something about it, but at the age of 31, there's not much I can do. My youth is almost gone, and it will take years of conditioning for me to even get close to competitive level.
It was this defining moment in my life that sank any hopes of ever getting out of this cage by taking my only, true, and very innocent dream away from me. All throughout high school, this cage held me down like a cop holds down a criminal after trying to escape; with hand-cuffs and all!
To this day, I still feel like that picture I have on my profile: Me, dressed in baseball uniform, waiting for my opportunity to come up to bat, or go to the field, but at the same time caged... like an animal... like the dogs in the picture above, just waiting for somebody to open that door to run wild and free... And like the picture, it seems as if my Dreams still have some light, but I can't wait too long or the night might fall on it and finish crushing the little hope that I have of ever making it a reality.
IS IT TOO LATE? With tears in my eyes, I feel the need to say, Yes! But my heart and mind are in conflict. My heart having felt the excitement, the joy, the happiness that I get when I play baseball, and knowing how much this means to me, wants to keep on believing that it is still possible. My mind, being logical, analytical, and very convincing with the facts of my life, is throwing in my face that my time to make it is over... "You are not 20 anymore!" It yells at my heart... "The body you work so hard for is too out of shape, and the mind that tells you this is not as sharp as it once was! Give it up, heart... give it up, Alex! Follow other dreams, which you can have a better probability of making a reality..."
How do I argue with reason? How can I prove to my heart that it's over? How can I convince my mind, that nothing is impossible? HOW... HOW?
How do I get out of this cage and finally be free?
I only speak for myself, the dependency that I developed as a child caged me for life... God help me fight the good fight, so that one day I can say: I did it! I persevered! I never gave up! I'm finally FREE!
