My Privilege

Rosa Lizeth Frias, Resident

I rode the public buses alone

since the age of 7.

But unlike a place like Japan,

where safety is a given,

I rode those buses out of necessity.

Other times, a van driver would pick me up,

To take me on a daily 30-min ride

of social disparities in my "ciudad."

From the neighborhood I dreaded speaking about,

Fearing being mocked about,

To the catholic, private school

targeting kids with old and new money,

oblivious, in my mind,

to the realities beyond

5-level homes and fancy cars.

I like rules.

Never wondered how that came about.

Skirts centimeters below my knees

and perfectly polished shoes

forced me to learn and thrive

in a world of structure and fitting in,

the only perceived way to survive.

Expectations were set high.

Whether I ate a plate of broccoli, veal and mashed

or simply got beans and rice all week,

All month around,

if I was lucky...

I was often the only one black kid in my class,

But I never noticed,

not until now.

I was conditioned to succeed from early on.

It became almost a given.

I was independent and observant.

I learned to behave well

and listen quietly.

Never misbehaved.

Always did the homework.

Shared what I learned with others

and received unintended praise for it.

I was protected by my teachers.

I was framed as the “smart kid.”

Little did they know that inside,

I longed to belong.

I feared being discovered.

I memorized every line

so I could keep learning,

so I could fulfill my mother’s wish

of becoming an independent woman;

that was my agenda at 9 years old.

When she left,

I was ready.

At 13 years old,

I made monthly grocery budgets.

I compared products and chose what was healthiest and most affordable.

I never stopped doing my homework.

Even if I had to be taken out of class,

often in a pool of tears,

my sadness did not consume me.

Writing became my light,

while hope ...

Hope simply followed.

That was my privilege!

About the Author:

Rosa Lizeth Frias is a PGY-1 Categorical Internal Medicine physician at University of Miami/Jackson Memorial Hospital. She was born in Colombia and emigrated to the US at age 16 to live with her father in Brooklyn, NY. She completed community college and ventured on a scholarship to complete her B.A in Neuroscience and Behavior at Mount Holyoke College, the first college for women in the U.S. She fell in love with cancer research in her 4-year gap before starting medical school in Puerto Rico with her goal in mind, and her eyes set on treating cancer patients like her physically absent mother. Despite hurricanes, limited academic resources and multiples reasons to quit, she matched at her #1 residency program, and now serves many Latinxs in Miami, Florida, a place she never imagined living in, but also the place that currently gives her the most satisfaction: to care for the extended community that raised her and remaining connected to the many other immigrants that come to the US looking for their own version of the "American Dream" like she did.

About the Work:

This piece relates my upbringing in my native Colombia. It touches on how my undefined identify formed and what I did to survive challenges, the world and the loss of my mother at a young age while my father lived miles away in the U.S. It talks about my unseen privilege of building resilience from such a young age, but most importantly, it provides context for what I thought privilege was then and what it represents for me now.