Chapter 1: Who Am I?
My name is Alle Gonzalez. I am Colombian by birth and Canadian by choice. I am fifty years old. I am an engineer by profession, an artist and entrepreneur. Why did I decide to write this book? Well, I think it is the sum of many different factors. First of all, I have become really good with words, especially in English. Though it is my second language, in my bipolar mind it is my first. Let me elaborate on that. I grew up in Colombia and attended a bilingual British school from JK (Kinder) to Grade Eleven. Both elementary and high school (Bachillerato) were at the same location. I practiced my English on a sporadic basis; when we went on vacation while singing all the songs the different radio stations would feature in English. I always got the lyrics wrong. Even today, what my mind thought was said, was not what was really said. I was actually shocked the first time that I played ‘Guitar Hero’ and I saw the lyrics written on the screen. I was like, “Oh no!!” I never really understood the meaning of many of the songs that I heard growing up in the eighties.
My understanding of lyrics hasn’t changed with time. I definitely don’t get the lyrics of the songs my children listen to while working out or when we are together in the car. I need to print or at least read them once or twice in order to understand what a song is about and follow. I graduated in Colombia as an Industrial Engineer and worked for ten years in consultancy. Our family moved to Canada after an unfortunate incident where our car was stolen by force, leaving feelings of fear and concern we were not able to live with. We immigrated as independent professionals in 2002. When I started working in Canada, I worked afternoons at the preschool my youngest son was attending. It was an eye-opening experience and the beginning of my career in education.
My journey of twenty years as an immigrant, a woman, a wife, a mother and a friend contrasted with my life as a daughter of Colombian parents. I had the best of both worlds. Because I was always able to go back to Colombia, my children grew up in a Spanish speaking household, educated in English and French. They are a mix of the Latino and Canadian culture. I feel proud to say that I made every effort to understand, learn and adapt to the Canadian way of life. My best friends are English speaking. I was also active in the Spanish community, especially at my parish where I led a mother’s group and catechism classes. It was a safe and comfortable environment for me. I also learned to love winter.
I had a lot of energy and wanted to give back to Canada, the country that became my home. I also desired to give my life a deeper purpose, so I participated actively in parent groups at the school level. As a newcomer, I really appreciated many of the wonderful gifts the Canadian society had available and accessible to everyone. Available meaning you could access them, accessible meaning they were literally in the palm of your hand. If you grew up in a country different from Canada, you would understand why I was so pleased and surprised by the amazing sense of community here. I really mean totally AMAZING. Kids went to school with their neighbour friends. They could walk to school together. In my homeland, we took a bus to drive us across the city, morning and afternoon, back and forth. We had to wake up early in the morning, before six am, and the bus would pick us up and drop us off after three pm, in front of our house. The bus sometimes waited outside the house for us, if we were not ready to go.
Here in Canada, education is publicly funded by the taxes we pay. You just need to register at the school of your choice and a spot is granted to you. It is accessible to every child. This is a completely different from my own Colombian private education experience: A system where you had to apply to the school of your choice, take an exam and wait to be accepted. Many factors were taken into account to make that decision. In Ontario, the schools provided everything the children needed for schooling: textbooks, paper, crayons, etc. and had a no uniform policy. In Colombia, before the school year started, we received a list of school supplies. We had to try on uniforms and buy everything we needed before the school year started. It was a quite detailed and extensive list. On their first day of school in Canada, my kids carried a water bottle, a lunch bag and a Kleenex box inside their backpacks. That was it. Another thing about Canada was we had to pack them a lunch to eat at school every day. There was a twenty-minute lunch period to eat and children would come home before noon, as kindergarten, at that time, was a half-day program. Everything sounded great: 8:15am to 11:30am and then the kids will be back home for playdates and rest.
I also learned of the incredible programs run at the community centers and the library. This was new for me. I was grateful for the opportunities my children had and I made sure I mentioned that to teachers and administrators who looked at me puzzled. “This is not the way education and communities run in other countries,” I said. “This school system is unique to the world.” I also appreciated the neighbourhood spirit and the way people greeted, helped and enjoyed one another. That was a huge gift and the neighbours ended up becoming your lifetime friends. In Colombia, I hardly knew my neighbours. We all were too busy and uninterested in becoming friends.
For us, family was everything. I had the chance to start working afternoons at a Child Care Center in the Before and After School Program, taking care of children. I went to work and stayed in a room with another educator, taking care of the children until their parents picked them up at the end of the day. That was new to me too. In Colombia, children are dropped at home after school by a bus and stay with hired personnel until parents arrive at the end of the day. This was a pretty busy but simple life. Day after day, same routine: wake up, get ready, breakfast, go to school, pick up, lunch, go to work and back home to prepare for the next day.
I had to spice up my life so, with time, we went to every playground, activity, and park, with friends and other moms. We were enjoying life and sharing memories while raising our children. This is where things got a little bit crazy for me. I was such an optimist and made a tremendous effort to adapt, to understand the culture and the language that everything I did, and everything I could read, I did in the two languages. I had the Spanish and English version of each book I was reading and compared them line by line, word by word, in my desire to adapt to my new environment. I cannot prove it, but I believe that was the start of my bipolar condition.
People don’t believe me, but I am really shy. I was shy at school and that did not change in university. It is a trait I’ve always had and that will stay with me forever. I consider myself an introvert, but life turned around for me and I became a very friendly person who extends sympathy to others. I am not an extrovert. I force myself to come out of my shell, but there is a huge part of me that is just mine which I don’t like to share with everyone. Inspired and supported by my parish priest I took a Pastoral Ministry Course at the St. Peter’s Seminary in London, Ontario. It was in this course and through the three years of studies that my writing skills in English accelerated. With the help of my beloved neighbour, I started to think and write in English comfortably, leaving behind many of the Spanish language rules that did not apply to the English language.
End of Chapter 1