tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35373934435815090862024-02-20T15:27:33.388-08:00A second to forget... A life to make it rightOmar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-71142527972860488582019-11-10T07:42:00.000-08:002019-11-10T07:55:14.060-08:00The Expectations of a Marine Corps Veteran<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you see, hear, or interact with anyone, you always have
an expectation of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those expectations are ingrained within us, as it is our
nature to be able to get a sense of those around us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those expectations are not necessarily good or bad, however
throughout my life, the expectations of who I should be, have always been low,
and to be honest, at one point I almost believe them.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You see, I was born into a dirt-poor situation in central
Mexico back in the 1980s, amid the beginning of a drug war that is still raging
today in a state of constant fear, violence, and a never-ending sense of unrest
and uncertainty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To me and my family, all of that stuff that was happening
just became the norm and we lived our life the best we could, and for me that
meant playing a lot of soccer pretty much all of the time, pretty much
everywhere I could.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At one point, when I was about 12 years old, my parents
decided to leave everything behind. Their careers, all of our possessions, all
of our immediate family, all of our friends, to search for a new, better life here
in the United States.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My parents were able to enter the United States with
temporary work visas and were able to bring me and my sisters along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents obtained multiple hard, and back
breaking jobs well below their schooling and capabilities working for many
manufacturing companies in West Michigan, while all of us did our best to try
to restart our lives.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, myself and my sisters enrolled in grade school,
and right about this time in my life it’s when I started to realize what other
people’s expectations of me are.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It did not take long for my new peers in school to treat me
up to their expectation. To them I was just the weird, dirty, and strange kid
that had no business being anything to anyone.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Living under those expectations was extremely frustrating,
but little did I know, those experiences were going to shape my life and
eventually save it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I struggled to get by grade school, and not for the lack of
trying, but rather because I needed to cramp up not only the school work, but
an entire new culture, language, and a way of living.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My teacher’s expectations were for me to attend
school, learn English, keep up in all subjects, and do the homework and
eventually I would be ready to go to college. What my teachers did not put in
consideration is that every morning after my parents left me and my sisters to
go to work for the entire day, I was left to do chores,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>get myself and my sisters ready to go to
school, cook, walk to school, struggle at school, pick up my sisters after
school, make dinner, pick up the house, and then after all that attempt to do
homework and “learn”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It goes without saying that I did not live up to their
expectations.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some days, I would see the school’s soccer team practice as
I was walking back home, and be reminded that the sport that I loved and was
good at, and could be successful at doing was not a possibility because my
grades were not good enough to join the team. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only thing that I am good at, I am not
allowed to do, and there was nothing I could do about it. Expectations, yet
again keeping me down.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my last year of High School, my situation did not change
much. Except by that time, my father decided to make the situation harder and
ended up leaving my mother, my sisters, and I to fend for ourselves.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mother did her best to keep us afloat, but to tell you
that she had a plan for me after I graduated High School would be a lie.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At this point in my life I had to make a choice:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Live down to my expectations of a poor
immigrant guy, with no real education, working dead end jobs, possibly joining
a gang to feel like a belong, and really for all tends and purposes become a no
one, or join the military.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember, the first time I talked to a Marine Corps recruiter,
He was doing the best he could to sell me the Marines on things like college,
careers, travel and so forth, however, the thing that really interest me was
the part about becoming a Marine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be honest, I did not know what being a Marine was but I
knew that it was something, I knew that by joining the Marines I would finally
become someone in this new, and crazy world, I knew that by becoming a Marine I
would finally live past my expectations.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It took less time for me to decide to join that Marines than
it takes anyone to write a tweet about their breakfast, it took even less time
for my mother to let me join the Marines when I was still 17 years of age. And
not because she did not love me, it was because it was the only option she had
for me.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I somehow graduated High School, and in the fall of year
2000 after just a couple of months past graduating High School, I was in my
first flight heading over to San Diego to start boot camp and try to become a
United States Marine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Marine Corps bootcamp is physically and mentally hard as the
drill instructors try their best to get rid of all the bad habits, detrimental
attitudes, and selfishness and instill honor, courage, and commitment in many
interesting ways to say the least.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, to a guy that barely speaks English, and already has
lived a life where toughness is required in an everyday basis, between the
insults and boarder line traumatic experiences, bootcamp was also a very funny
place.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In boot camp I earned the nickname of “recruit smirky” as I
thought everything was funny, even when things weren’t. I remember being
“smoked out” and laughing out loud which in turn made my drill instructors “smoke”
me even more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To this day, I still have to tell people that “I laugh when
im sad” and they think its funny, but it is so very true and all started in
boot camp.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Marine Corps boot camp was oddly the first place where I
felt like I belonged somewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
in fact the first place where I thought that I was not the lesser of other
people around me, as we all were recruits, and we all suffered, and we all
learn to become Marines together, and we knew that the only way through the
suffering was to remain together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
sentiment that is still shared among many Veterans these days.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well after 3 months of grueling, and “hilarious” moments in
Marine Corps bootcamp, it was time to endure the last test of will before
becoming a Marine which required a 3 day war like situation with tactical
maneuvers, limited sleep, firing and carrying huge heavy guns and its ammo,
endless marching and finally culminating in climbing a huge and steep mountain
called the “reaper”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The task of climbing the “reaper” was not an easy feat, but
as I kept climbing and felt my shoulders, arms, back, and legs reaching the
point of maximum exhaustion, I kept thinking to myself: “the pain that it feels
to climb this mountain is nothing compared to the pain of being a nobody” so I
kept on climbing and climbing some more until I started to hear music, at that
point it might have been just in my head, but I remember looking up and among
my fellow recruits and seeing the ridge top, and on it I saw my drill instructors
waiting for us all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, this time they were not receiving us with shouts
and commands but with a military salute as we march past them. And as I stood
there atop of the “reaper” I saw my Drill Instructor approach me, and as he
faced me, he handed me an Eagle, Globe, and Anchor insignia, an insignia signifying
that I had lived past all of my expectations, an insignia that signified that I
had become a part of the few and the proud, I had become a United States
Marine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Earning the title of a United States Marine felt amazing. My
family looked up to me, my peers wanted to be me, girls finally started paying
attention to me, and I was extremely proud of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember the first time I wore my dress
blues uniform and attending an event in them. Walking in, feeling like
superman, and taking the air out of the room. Still to this day one of the best
feelings I have ever experienced.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, the uniform, the attention, and the title don’t
mean much if you are not willing to fight.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was Private First class in the morning of September 11<sup>th</sup>,
2001, and as me and my fellow Marines saw those towers fall, we knew that our
chance to fight would be soon and we would be ready, as we were expected to do
so, and so we did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My first deployment to a combat zone was just six months
after the 9/11 attacks, and I became part of the first push into Iraq in 2002,
and then volunteered to stay for another tour that took me all the way into
2003, came home for about 4 months and then volunteered to go back again for
another tour for a total of 16 months in country while performing combat
operations in Iraq.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had effectively
spent more time in Iraq than I had in the states as a Marine, and in those 16
months I had endured hard work, sleepless nights, sweat, dirt, fear, blood, and
extreme proudness of who I had become, the country that had given me the
opportunity to go past my wildest expectations, and was proud to represent the
citizens of this amazing country as I had become one myself in that span.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We came home as heroes, we came home as saviors, but we also
we came home broken.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You see when you become superman, soaring through the skies,
saving everyone’s day, there will be a day when you just cannot do it anymore,
and when you finally fall from the sky, the fall will hit hard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For me, that day came when I was at peak of feeling
invincible. 10 years in the Marine corps, 4 deployments, a leader of Marines, I
had been shot at, I had been bombarded, and was still here! I had been through
the wringer and spit back out and there was nothing that could stop me, so, I
thought.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was so convinced that nothing could stop me that I dared
speed and the two wheels of a motorcycle to give me its best shot, and unfortunately,
I had lost.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not only I lost my right arm that day, but I had lost
everything else. The proudness that I had earned as a Marine, gone! People
started to pity me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The confidence I had
built through all those years of hardship, gone! I was lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The opportunity to continue to defend our
country, gone! I was by myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent a couple of years trying to find a new purpose in
life, feeling sorry for myself, with no clear end to the suffering in sight,
and was very much depressed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Expectations can work in many ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before becoming a Marine I was expected to
fail, and thankfully I was able to go beyond my expectations and become
successful. After becoming a Marine I was expected to be successful, but I
failed to realize that I was not invincible. And then there I was, expected to
fail once again, but this time it would be at fighting for my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then, before descending to despair, I remembered
climbing the “reaper” all those years back before becoming a Marine. I remember
just how hard, and painful it was, I remembered how heavy my legs felt, I
remembered that there was no way I would<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>stop until I became a Marine, and that in order to become something else
than what we are expected to be we must go through pain, and that my current
situation was not much different from where I was then.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So the next day I went to talk to the US Paralympics and I
asked them “What is the hardest sport there is for an arm amputee” and they all
agreed, “Cross Country skiing”, and without skipping a beat and with no Cross
Country Skiing experience, I bought a pair of skis, packed everything I had,
move to a place surrounded by snow, and just started skiing, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>every day, for many hours at a time, enduring
pain, cold, and the many falls that would follow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was boot camp all over again, minus the
laughing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a while, I started racing and making a name for
myself, but then after 2 years of gruesome training and racing, I got a call
from the US Paralympics informing that I would be able to represent the United
States and its people at the 2014 Sochi Paralympics in cross country skiing.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I stood there in the middle of Sochi Russia, about to
become a Paralympian, with my family, and thousands of spectators witnessing me
yet again living way past my expectations, I knew that the feat would not have
been possible if it was not for the fighting spirit and the love for our
country that the Marines had helped instill in me all those years back.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have told you my story of how I became a Marine on this 244<sup>th</sup>
Marine Corps birthday, and with Veterans day tomorrow, so you can see that the
choice to be in the US military, as my story tell you, sometimes is not made
consciously by many. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The story is to remind everyone that reads this that it does
not matter if the choice is ours or not, all Marines and Veterans end up
sacrificing immensely for the collective good for this country, and they all
are willing to fight to keep the country safe even despite of their own safety.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Many Marines and Veterans, as I could have possibly become
one of them, lose the fight for their own lives alone, and in obscurity many
years after the bullets have flown, and they die here among the citizens they
have sworn to protect.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, on this 244<sup>th</sup> Marine Corps birthday and on Veterans
day, go beyond your own expectations and find it within you to not only thank
Veterans but to realize that Veterans need your appreciation, and on these days,
Veterans look up to the citizens to defend them and honor them, as they have
defend and honor them, and will continue to do so until there is not a breath
on our lungs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sgt Omar Bermejo<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
United States Marine Corps (Ret)<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-61330695640848102272017-10-24T09:47:00.001-07:002017-10-24T09:49:46.864-07:00Strangers in a new land<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">In
Leviticus 19 it reads “When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you
shall not do him wrong. You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as
the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were
strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord you, your god”.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">
<br />
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">My family and I hail from Guadalajara
Mexico. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Guadalajara
is a large city located in central Mexico and known for its folklore, catholic
beliefs, and delicious food.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Growing
up in Mexico was much different that living here as you can Imagine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Both
of my parents were professionals and both attended college before having us...
My father was an agricultural engineer and my mom studied English and became a
highly skilled secretary for a computer hardware company in town.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Even
though my parents were employed and were working hard to provide me and my two
sisters a promising future, the political landscape of Mexico during those
years in the 90’s were ones that were ruled by increasing despotism and crime,
in particular drug trafficking to the United States.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">My
parents did their best to keep the knowledge of all that from me and my sisters
and let us grow up as kids should.
However, it was clear that something was not right, as we were living
very poor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">We
lived in a makeshift four wall space in top of another house, we had two beds,
one for me and my two sisters and another one for my parents, next to the beds
was the table where we would have our meals and next to that was the curtain
that separated the place where we would wash clothes and take baths.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">That’s
the life we were afforded, and with both of my parents working, I cannot begin
to imagine how the lives of other people were, but I assume they were worst.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">We
endured this type of living for many years and as anyone would, my parents
started to think about an alternative to surpass the quality of life we were
presented.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">My
mother had the opportunity to study in the United States years early with a
student visa, and had accumulated enough time to obtain a work permit if she
wanted to return to the United States to do so.
However, that did not include my father, my two sisters, and of course
me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">My
parents weighed the options:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">In
one side it was leaving everything behind...
Their jobs, their careers, their friendships, their culture, their
families, and everything they know up to that point, and in the other was to
stay, endure the state sponsored poverty, violence, and hope for my sisters and
me to grow up and hope for the best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">My
parents split the difference and decided they would go first while my sisters
and I stayed back with our grandparents to wait for them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">And
so it goes, my parents drove to the US/Mexico border in California, my mother
presented the authorities with her paperwork and just like that my parents
became immigrants to a new country, with nothing else but the will to re unite
our family someday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">My
parents would send us pictures from the United States and it all seemed so
magical. You see, to people from other places, the United States is something
beyond a place; it’s like an idea of what a perfect place is. A place where all you have to do is work hard
and good things will happen, a place where things are fair and just.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">My
parents were able to get jobs pretty fast, my mother became a bakery line
worker, and my father worked similarly at a shoe factory. They traded their professional jobs for menial
ones just so they would save enough money to come and get my sisters and me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Almost
a year passed and my parents finally had enough money to come get us. We said goodbye to our grandparents, friends,
and the rest of our family with the notion that we might not see them ever
again, we grabbed just what we could in our backpacks and we started our
journey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">When
we got to the border my sisters and I were clearly scared. We never had gone past our city limits back
in Mexico let alone into another country.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">My
mother told us to relax and go to sleep or at least pretend to. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I
closed my eyes and waited for my parents to tell me it’s ok. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">While
I waited I remember hearing someone speak English for the first time in my life...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">All I
knew is this person that I could not understand had the power to not let us
reach the magical, and perfect place we only seen in pictures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I
clinched my eyes shut even tighter, hoping for the best, then a moment of
silence... <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">The
car starts moving forward…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"> My mother finally whispers: “open your eyes,
we are on our way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">We
drove up for what it seemed an eternity.
Looking out the car window the first thing I noticed were the huge
billboards advertising food. Then, which
it almost seemed that I made it happen with my mind alone, we stopped at a fast
food place and I sank my teeth into my first hamburger. This is truly a magical place I taught.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">We
stopped at a hotel for the night and something happened that it had never
happened before in my life; I had a bed all to myself. The notion of it intrigued me and it almost
made me feel uncomfortable. But it was
not for long, because shortly after that I discovered what a TV remote was and
even though I could not understand anything, the pictures in the screen mesmerized
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Finally
after several days we reach our destination.
We had just traveled up from the middle of Mexico and across the United
States to a place called Grand Rapids, Michigan. My parents had arranged a very small
apartment for us to live in but for me and my sisters it was the greatest place
we had ever lived in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Thinking
back, I can just imagine what my parents were going through then. Going to work, saving money, and living in a
new place by themselves was one thing, but now they had three kids with
them. The responsibility of raising us
in this new place must have been a huge burden on them, but at least our family
was together at last, ready to face the new world together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">To
say the least, my sisters and I were very afraid of everything that was outside
the front door of our small apartment.
People would knock on the door and we would scurry away. Of course as the oldest I would have the
courage to tell my young sister to ask who it was that was knocking. There was
no point to it because we did not what they would say anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Going
to places in this new land was always a bit of an adventure. I had to research English phrases prior to
going anywhere in order to communicate what I needed, and hoped their response
was something like ”ok”, “yes” or “no”,
or maybe just point in the direction I needed to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">That
summer went by pretty fast since everything was so new to our family, but
somehow we made it work. Of course a new
challenge loomed over the distance for my sisters and me. School enrollment was starting and it was
time for us to join our new peers in the education battleground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I
enrolled in High School, while my sisters enrolled in Middle School. The High School where I enrolled had ESL
classes, which allows students to learn the curriculum in their native
language, and as the class unfolds the teacher introduces things in
English. So in a way you learn English
by learning math sort of speak. Sounds
good in paper, however the classes were very basic, and the learning I was
doing was very minimal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">As
you can imagine, I did most of my learning in the High School hallways, and
soccer practice fields interacting with my peers and of course trying to
impress girls. Back in Mexico playing
soccer is something that you do from the moment you start walking so I prided
myself in the skills I had, however I was not allowed to play in matches
because ESL classes did not qualify me to do so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">By my
sophomore year I had grown extremely weary of the notion I could not play
soccer because of the type of classes I was attending so I decided to start
attending regular classes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">As
expected, I struggled a lot to understand the subjects, I had to constantly
look up meaning of words and phrases before trying to understand anything else,
I was doing double or triple the work in order just to keep up, but no matter
how hard I tried I never did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Around
this time in my life is the first time I experienced the feeling of being
considered inferior to anyone just because I was different… A feeling I could not understand… I was
working hard and my only motivation was to be able to play sports, which to me
it was the only thing I knew I could do well, and not only I could not do it, I
was being reprimanded for trying to do so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">To
add to all this, during the span of my High School years, my father became
increasingly depressed. To this day I
have no idea what it would be like experiencing coming to a new country and
losing all your identity, past career, and knowledge and start anew as an adult,
but I am sure it’s a burdensome sacrifice, and as it could be true with anyone,
my father lost himself in the struggle and gave in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">In
the wake of my senior year of High School, I saw my father load up a truck full
of stuff, and I saw him depart from my life, leaving my mother, two sisters,
and myself to fend off by ourselves in this new land.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">With
my father gone, all the responsibilities became my mother’s sole burden to
bear. My mother had 3 jobs at that time,
and we barely saw her. It became clear
to me that I had to forget about playing soccer and get a job myself, and take
care of my sisters in order to help out my mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I
remember my senior year of High school as me shoveling snow out of the drive
way for my mom’s car to get out, taking my sisters to school, doing the best I
could in my own classes, picking my sisters up after school, and me heading to
work in a grocery store as a bagger, I would do zero homework to speak of, and
really just looked forward to the next day to do it all over again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">In school,
I would hear people talk about college and this and that, but somehow I knew
that I would never go to college so why even bother… The ACTs came around, and
I did not study for any of them, to me they just meant I would be able to work more
since school got out earlier those days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">And
to add to the struggle that was that year, I was 17 years of age, so that means
that the moment I turned 18, the protection of my mother’s residency could not
protect me anymore and I could get deported back to Mexico.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">As
you can imagine, I was heading to a life of the proverbial low skilled
immigrant that you see all the time, but unlike their untold stories that never
see the light of day, my life was saved by a pull up bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">“Step
right up! Come see what it takes to be a
Marine!!” I jumped up to the bar, and
easily did about 10 pull ups. I got off,
and I started to walk away… The recruiter chased me and started to sell me on
many things that really I did not care about… Careers, College credits, this
and that… I did not care about any of them, that is until he recognized the
accent in my voice and said, “you could become an American citizen”. I knew the only way to stick around and help
my mother and my sisters was to not do what my father had done, so I told him
yes, I want to become a Marine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">It
took exactly one visit to the recruiting office and I was sold. The next day, I showed up at home with my
recruiter and he went to work on my mother for her consent since I was 17. As you can imagine, my mother was scared and
did not want me to go but she also realized that she did not have any other
options for my future, so she looked at me, a moment passed, and she gave me a
nod… telling me silently with a look only mothers can do, “to go make something
out of myself”… Then she looked at the
recruiter and said “yes”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I
graduated High School and I spent the rest of that summer getting ready to go
to boot camp. I knew that I was leaving
my family behind to fend off by themselves, but I had no choice… It was my only
shot to remain around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ll
be honest; I did not know what I was getting myself into. I travelled to California and I was told to
wait for my drill instructors at the airport USO. I got there and there were big couches in
front of a big TV and I thought “this can’t be that bad.” A few hours passed, and then I saw a tall guy
in uniform come through the door, I approached him and asked him, are you the
drill instructor I am suppose to meet? And at that moment I realize he was
because he gave me a look that said “you undisciplined piece of you know what”,
he began to yell at me and to get on his bus, so I did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">The
hours after I got picked up were some of the worst times of my life, these
period are designed to break you so they can build you back up later on, and
with my limited knowledge of the English language, well I got broken down even
more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">You
see, people that are learning English often take things very literally and do
not understand sarcasm, so when my drill instructors yelled at me with all
types of it, I would often do the opposite of what they wanted me to do, and of
course I pay the price every single time for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I
spent over three months becoming a Marine, but in reality I became something
much more than that. I became a man with
true morals, discipline, and most of all a purpose. My purpose was to defend the country that
welcomed me, my family and gave us a true shot at life. That right there was worth my life, and I was
prepared to give it alongside many others if it was required of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucky
for us, it would not be long before that notion would be put the test...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">I was
19 years of age, and I had been serving for just about a year. The date was
September 11<sup>th</sup>, 2002… The towers in New York fell, and our nation
mourned… I watched with my fellow
servicemen in disbelief, but soon that disbelief turned into action as our
sense of duty was calling our names. I never thought about it twice then, as I
don’t do it now, but even though I was not an American citizen, I was ready to
die defending my new land.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Just
four months later I found myself yet in another new land. We crossed from Kuwait into Iraq fulfilling
our duty of protection to our country and to each other. We served under some
of the worst working conditions one could imagine. We all did our best to make the people back
home proud of our efforts. We endured pain so no one else had to. Some of us
paid a great sacrifice for others, and some paid with their lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">In
the span of six years I had deployed to Iraq four times for about a year each
time. It was not until my third
deployment that I was able to claim my United States citizenship, which by that
time was merely a legal formality, as I felt my entire being was that of an
American citizen long before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Back
home, my mother and my sisters were able to obtain their citizenship on their
own right with the help of immigration laws that saw them flourish. My sisters were able to be very successful at
school and were off to the University of Michigan on scholarships where both
received degrees, and once my sisters were off at their university my mother
also attended community college and also got a degree thus enabling her to open
up her own business that she manages now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Things
were looking up for everyone, but this is often when things go badly, and it
did for me… After my fourth deployment,
and looking forward to a career within the military until retirement, as I was
riding home to start a new week, I lost control of my motorcycle and crashed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Think
about yourself going to sleep, what if when you wake up you are a completely
different person? That’s exactly how I
felt when I woke up and was surrounded by my family and friends and the doctor who
approach me and told me that I had just lost the ability to use my right
arm. My career, my dreams, and my
everything… Completely erased and replaced by uncertainty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">However,
I was wrong of thinking that way… Because I had not lost everything… I still
had my will to keep going and survive that by this time it was well cemented
within every single one of us in my family. So I stood up and I started
walking, that walk became a trot, and that trot became a full on run
eventually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Running
became my therapy to get over everything that was wrong with me. I would do it for many hours a day, and I was
getting pretty good at it. After two
years of doing it, someone took notice and asked me if I wanted to try for the
Paralympics, and not knowing anything about it, I decided that I would.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">There
are many sports that are practiced to the highest level of competition in the
Paralympics, but when it came to choosing a sport I decided to go for the
hardest one there was, and that was biathlon.
In biathlon you have to cross country ski for many miles and in between
you get to shoot a rifle at a target and attempt to hit your marks and continue
racing. I had plenty of training using a
rifle in the Marines but I had never cross country skied before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">In
the same manner I approached running a few years earlier, I would just go out
skiing for hours until I figure things out and then do it all over again the
next day and so forth. Eventually, I got
good enough to start competing, and then I start competing to earn a spot in
the US team, and finally compete to earn a spot to go to Sochi, Russia at the
2014 winter Paralympics. That took only
a paragraph to say, but the effort that was required in order for me to realize
this took me years. But just like I had
joined the Marines to make something out of myself many years earlier, I wanted
to represent my country and show the world my gratitude to it through my
greatest efforts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">For a
guy that could not play soccer in High School because he could not speak English,
walking out in front of a huge crowd in a foreign land to represent the United
States in the sport of biathlon was a dream come true. Loud and mesmerizing with camera flashes
everywhere, the ground shake with tremors from the crowd, and an intimidating
field of athletes from everywhere in the world standing right before me… but I
was not paying attention to any of that…
My gaze and my attention was solely at the grand stands where my mother,
my two sisters, and my wife to be were sitting… Looking at me… Proud, but more
importantly… Together, yet again in a
new land.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">My family and
I came to the United States as strangers but we did not come with malice in our
hearts. We came because we believe in
everything this nation stands for. We came to share the promise of this land,
and to make it better alongside everyone else. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">We
might be different in many ways but if my story tells you anything is that we
all want the same things in the end. We
all want to live our lives to our full potential. We all want to provide our
families with a bright future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">In our religious teaching we are taught to treat strangers with love…
And I understand how that could be a bridge too far to cross since we
have seen many hateful attacks in our soil to let anyone in, let alone love
them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">All I
ask is for you to have an open heart and love the great possibility that beyond
the walls of our narrow human instincts, there might be someone just like you, a stranger, ready to love you as well.</span></div>
Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-9486487457020291452016-04-28T12:35:00.001-07:002016-04-28T12:45:29.553-07:00The opportunity of impossibilityBiathlon and Cross Country skiing saw me adapt, grow, and succeed in its field of competition. To this day, both sports, especially biathlon, holds a special place in my mind and heart.<div><br></div><div>However, both sports, also left me motivationally depleted. While competition and training was challenging, fun, and full of new experiences, the inner workings, rules, and overall culture of the sport was ultimately my downfall.</div><div><br></div><div>Imagine an athlete that has decided to make a sport his craft.. He sleeps, lives, and studies that sport, he rejects his possessions and moves to a new place with nothing but a dream of becoming the best.. His family thinks he's crazy, the people around him thinks he's weird, he sleeps on an air mattress, his bank low in funds, and with just enough food to make the same dinner everyday, he keeps going..</div><div><br></div><div>The only one that supported him.. His grandfather dies.. In a whirlwind of emotions he has the perfect race.. He is in.</div><div><br></div><div>He competes and gives his heart out at the biggest stage, this is the beginning of something great.. </div><div><br></div><div>He keeps going and going.. The mental and physical stress catches up to him and he gets sick.. The saddest part of the story and unbeknownst to him comes with a click.. He asks to be believed in once again.. Not good enough..</div><div><br></div><div>In a world where belief is measured by how much money you are worth, stories like his are easily dismissed.</div><div><br></div><div>Without the opportunity to be great it is impossible to prove your worth.. </div><div><br></div><div>And so, He keeps going.. Finding opportunities..</div><div><br></div><div>Enter Triathlon.. And I keep going..</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>(Listening to "Cut the cord" by Shinedown)</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-37958366954342251412016-04-04T12:46:00.001-07:002016-04-05T08:48:53.570-07:00The disability of successIn the world of Paralympic sports, not only do you have to adapt to learn, train, and compete in sports with a disability but you also have to find the support necessary to enable you to do those things in the first place.<div><br><div>For some of us it's easier with prior military service because there are always organizations willing to help, for others a wealthy family can enhance your chances, and for the really unlucky ones you are to fend on your own, but regardless we all find a way to compete.</div><div><br></div><div>Speaking of competition, in my own account, competition is what drives me. When I am competing my disability is non existent, I want to beat other competitors, and I honestly it feels good to pass other able and disabled athletes because it's hard wired into my being to beat others at whatever.</div></div><div><br></div><div>So we find the resources to train and compete, and then we become race junkies going wherever we can to satisfy our addiction to being better than we are expected to be, and then something funny happens, we become good enough to taste and dream about Paralympic competition.</div><div><br></div><div>The pitch is simple.. Acquire all the gear, train like mad men with a plan, compete in the races that count and.. Sell your disability to the highest bidder by masking it as inspiration, and if you do that then you can win a medal.. Ironically, at least for me, that's when my disability started.</div><div><br></div><div>You see, for years we try to pretend we are not disabled by doing pretty amazing things, but the moment we become Paralympic athletes we<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> also have to prove that our disability is also profitable. In a system where cash is king, inspiration is easy to sell.. So even if we think we are not disabled, the system that is suppose to abdicate us from the throne of disability is.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-31056346619486465392014-03-30T15:21:00.001-07:002014-03-30T15:21:24.984-07:00Eulogy of a great man<p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Mi Abuelito, mi </span><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Héroe</span><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">, y mi </span><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Inspiración</span><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">:</span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s2">Desde que yo recuerdo mi Abuelito ha sido el hombre </span><span class="s2">más</span><span class="s2">fuerte, </span><span class="s2">más</span><span class="s2"> cariñoso, y </span><span class="s2">más</span><span class="s2"> estricto que yo he conocido. </span></span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s2">En </span><span class="s2">México</span><span class="s2">, cuando yo era pequeño, me acuerdo visitar la casa de mis Abuelitos, y me acuerdo sentir </span><span class="s2">un</span><span class="s2"> par de emociones diferentes. Por</span><span class="s2"> un lado, </span><span class="s2">tenía</span><span class="s2"> ganas de jugar con todas las cosas que mi Abuelito </span><span class="s2">tenía</span><span class="s2"> como con su </span><span class="s2">máquina</span><span class="s2"> de escribir que hacia palabras y que yo me imaginaba que cuando uno </span><span class="s2">escribía</span><span class="s2">en ella la mente se pegaba en el papel, con su espada de</span><span class="s2">caballería</span><span class="s2"> con la cual yo me imaginaba luchando cont</span><span class="s2">ra piratas en un barco, y </span><span class="s2">también</span><span class="s2"> me gustaba ver y leer </span><span class="s2">sus artículos y posters que tenia de cuando </span><span class="s2">él</span><span class="s2"> había sido un boxeador y viendo estos yo me creía luchar contra todos aquellos con los cuales el lo hizo tirando puñetazos al aire…</span></span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s2"></span><span class="s2">Y por el otro lado, ver a mi Abuelito era también como someterse a una prueba, la prueba de mi madurez como hombre. Yo </span><span class="s2">tenía</span><span class="s2"> que fajarme, peinarme, y tratar de mantenerme limpio durante todo el recorrido desde nuestra casa hasta la de mis Abuelitos. Cuando </span><span class="s2">él</span><span class="s2"> hablaba conmigo me preguntaba </span><span class="s2">que</span><span class="s2">como estaba, </span><span class="s2">que </span><span class="s2">si estaba cuidando a mis hermanas y</span><span class="s2"> sobre</span><span class="s2"></span><span class="s2">cómo</span><span class="s2"> iba en la escuela. </span><span class="s2">Después</span><span class="s2"> de las preguntas, el me decía </span><span class="s2">lo tanto que</span><span class="s2"> nos </span><span class="s2">quería, a </span><span class="s2">mí</span><span class="s2">, a mis hermanas, a mi Mama, y a mi Abuelita. El siempre, siempre me decía esto.</span> </span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s2">Ya cuando </span><span class="s2">tenía</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">más</span><span class="s2"> años, y ellos </span><span class="s2">vivían</span><span class="s2"> lejos de nuestra casa en Guadalajara, yo me acuerdo que mi Abuelito era un hombre lleno de información, el era como lo que es tener una computadora en estos tiempos. El me enseño a jugar domino, juegos de baraja como el conquián y el póquer. Y cuando </span><span class="s2">él</span><span class="s2">jugaba, el jugaba en serio y siempre ganaba. No creo que haya habido alguien que le hubiera podido ganar </span><span class="s2">alguna vez. El también me daba lecciones sobre la historia y de cómo todo lo que ha pasado se repetirá y también me hablaba sobre lo que yo podía hacer para salir adelante. </span></span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A mi Abuelito Mariano también le gustaba mucho bromear. Siempre me llamaba diciéndome, “ven, mira esto”, y cuando iba el estaba allí listo y hacia alguna travesura a mi Abuelita, y aunque ella a veces se enojaba para nosotros era muy chistoso. </span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s2">Ya cuando nos venimos aquí a Grand Rapids, la relación que yo y mi Abuelito teníamos era una de nostalgia. Siempre el me decía como le gustaría regresarse para </span><span class="s2">México</span><span class="s2"> con todos nosotros y yo no </span><span class="s2">sabía</span><span class="s2"> que decirle, lo único que podía contestarle era “si, Abuelito ya vámonos!”. El se emocionaba tanto que hasta comenzaba a empacar sus cosas. </span></span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span class="s2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Y cuando era hora de terminar nuestra visita en su casa, el nunca nos quería decir adiós, pero cuando nos montábamos dentro del carro, podíamos ver que el salía afuera para vernos partir y se quedaba viéndonos hasta que desaparecíamos en el horizonte todo el tiempo diciéndonos adiós con su brazo. </span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s2">Cuando regrese después de mucho tiempo de no haber estado en Grand Rapids, la enfermedad de mi Abuelito ya </span><span class="s2">tenía</span><span class="s2"> sus garras clavadas en su mente. Se le empezó a olvidar todo, y el siempre repetía las mismas preguntas. </span><span class="s2">Pero había una pregunta en particular que el siempre me </span><span class="s2">hacía</span><span class="s2"> y esta pregunta siempre marcara mi vida. El preguntaba: “Que has hecho con tu vida?” Y si </span><span class="s2">él</span><span class="s2"> estuviera aquí ahora, yo podría contestarle: “Abuelito, si yo pudiera llegar a lograr por lo menos una fracción de lo que </span><span class="s2">tú</span><span class="s2">hiciste y amar como </span><span class="s2">tú</span><span class="s2"> me amaste, entonces yo creo que mi vida estará completa.”</span></span></p><p class="s2" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s2">Mi Abuelito Mariano siempre vivirá dentro de </span><span class="s2">mí</span><span class="s2"> con su amor y sus palabras. Y algunas de estas palabras fueron: “El tesoro de nuestra familia ha ido pasando a manos de cada generación…” Yo </span><span class="s2">digo</span><span class="s2"> hoy que en nuestra generación,</span><span class="s2"> el recuerdo de</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s2">él </span><span class="s2">con su amor </span><span class="s2">es el tesoro el cual él me había hablado ese día. </span></span></p>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-57456418162553911662014-03-20T06:04:00.001-07:002014-03-20T06:09:05.785-07:00Across the world..The Sochi Paralympics are over and I am a better man, athlete and human being because of it due to the perspective I have gained in all those aspects.<div><br></div><div>I am a better man because I have afforded my family the opportunity to be proud of me and serve as a role model as my grandfather did, to attest that no matter what happens in life, if a poor, fatherless, immigrant, down on his luck can reach this level of accolades then ANYONE can!</div><div><br></div><div>I am a better athlete because I have gained important experience to become better the next time around, I have created bonds with my teammates that will last long after our last competitions are past, and I have shown my coaches the kind of demeanor I have in order to help me become greater.</div><div><br></div><div>Most importantly in my opinion, I am a better human being because I was afforded to travel across the world and meet other people that are going through the same situations as all of us.. Wanting to live happily, wanting to love, wanting to belong, wanting to be great, and wanting nothing more than peace. We should not live in a world where boarders and ideals set by other "people" and enforced by media and ignorance dictate the level of humanity we all have. We all belong to the world, I am an American, proud to represent my nation, but I am even more proud to be human.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7L22mHswOdTT1oWzAST2psqSa3hXL5lZuiMFM1L17SgogaPjtlgtDkEIH-B6m5JV5RHXztvgmCabHAXuLsk8YypHvP_C1ybFLhSBtzalL_miflAF4W7IUhW8itBU4V58fUOBQklkN8Oo/s640/blogger-image-1665815465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7L22mHswOdTT1oWzAST2psqSa3hXL5lZuiMFM1L17SgogaPjtlgtDkEIH-B6m5JV5RHXztvgmCabHAXuLsk8YypHvP_C1ybFLhSBtzalL_miflAF4W7IUhW8itBU4V58fUOBQklkN8Oo/s640/blogger-image-1665815465.jpg"></a></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-69514279800690724982014-02-03T20:10:00.000-08:002014-02-03T20:11:38.725-08:00SOCHI-Da! An update and thank youBeing named to represent the United States in the Paralympics is something I strived for the first time I decided to start training like an Olympic athlete. <br />
<br />
I remember it was just a few weeks after the amputation of my dominant arm that I was lucky enough to talk to Bryan Boyer (of all places at the Tucson VA) after a check up following my amputation, and he mentioned that there was an opportunity to find rehab doing Biathlon.. Biathlon? Why not give it a chance I said.. Called Marc Mast at the Wood River Ability Program in Ketchum Idaho, packed my bags, and it was on.<br />
<br />
Tried it, loved it, and now look at me, in the midst of my second season and already have achieved this level. I am lucky indeed and sometimes I beat myself up for the stupid rookie mistakes I make but when I step back and look at the magnitude of it all, I should be incredibly proud.<br />
<br />
<div>
I am proud! In this last year I have achieved and experienced things that there's no way I would have done if it wasn't for skiing. First and foremost, I have learned to live and compete with a disability that has allowed me to appreciate life and find what my character is made of, and I have found out that my soul still burns and I love it.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
I have also gotten the chance to be a part of an incredible team and community when I came to Maine to start training.. Will Sweetser, Sarah Dominick, Seth Hubbard, and Amber Dodge, my coaches and now friends, have taught me how to train for competitive cross country skiing and biathlon and not only that but to enjoy skiing and be part of something greater, such as being a role model and an inspiration to kids and adults alike, and for that I feel honored and content. <br />
<br />
Being a member of MWSC has allowed me to travel to Europe, and Canada and train with athletes such as Kris Freeman, Noah Hoffman, Welly Ramsey, Brandy Stewart, Raleigh Goessling, Katrina Howe, and Sam Tarling, which I learned something from each one of them and I feel extremely thankful to have had the pleasure of skiing with them all.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
Two or three workouts each day, with shooting practice in between, healthy mind and body activities, and a whole lot of pain.. That is the price to pay but I could not have done it if it was not for Paul Fitzgerald, and Jeff Steffen at Team Semper Fi.. Those guys are awesome and they gave me the tools to make a run for it and run I will.<br />
<br />
When the going went from tough to just painfully hard and especially on those hot summer Maine days, I knew I could always count on my sweet and really kick ass skier herself, my girlfriend Lindsey Hall. Listening to her every night was the recovery I always needed to go on, and I am forever thankful for her and her family that opened up the doors to their house in order for me to train and afford the training.<br />
<br />
Paralympics, parallel to the Olympics.. Not below or above but in the same spectrum of hard work and dedication.. I do not claim to be anywhere in the realm of Olympians and their path to glory just as Olympians can not claim the path to mine.. I am a Paralympian, I might look different, and I might not be as fast as my fellow able-bodied skiers and marksmen, but I have every single intention to being successful at my craft as they are.. John Farra, Rob Rosser, James Upham, Eileen carey, and Bethann Chamberlain, thanks for seeing that in me.<br />
<div>
<br />
Sochi approaches, and I must say I am extremely excited and nervous.. My Mother Rosa, my two sisters, Edna, and Tania, and Lindsey will be watching from the stands as I achieve greatness.. I am extremely lucky to have a family that would support me this way, and to them and in the name of my true father Mariano which he was always the inspiration that drove my family forward before me, and that I have lost this year to a terrible illness, I dedicate this year's effort and everything that will flourish out of it.. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-56462248726254692132013-08-05T11:30:00.001-07:002013-08-05T11:30:16.313-07:00Accidental patriot: hero of my own soulPeople call me a hero.. They give me thanks for fighting for our country. And I appreciate it.. I love our country and I would do it all over again if I could, however, I am a hero not because I saved someone or acted bravely in combat.. I am a hero because I did not let my circumstances dictate who I would become.<div>I elected to fight because I knew that if I stayed I would have become a no one.</div><div>I was not by myself.. I fought for myself with a lot of people that were fighting for themselves as well, together fighting for a greater purpose that at least in my case was not clearly understood. We became accidental patriots. Heroes of our country we might be, but Heroes of our own soul we are without a doubt.</div><div>To this day we still fight.. </div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-38781589560361417412013-07-26T09:40:00.001-07:002013-07-26T09:40:26.888-07:00A skier in the making..<div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Rise above expectations.. It's what I would say my purpose of my life is.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Growing up in a very humble and ever changing setting could have left me stripped from accomplishing my dreams, and when I realized that, its when I decided to brake free and make a push to become all that I could be.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">I joined the United States Marines when I was still 17 years of age. 10 years later I was considered one of the best amongst the best. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">The Marines were my way of life until a motorcycle accident took what I thought was going to be the rest of my life in just a couple of seconds. It was time to start dreaming again. Dreaming of becoming a Paralympic cross country skiing athlete.. To rise again.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">I was introduced to the sport of cross country skiing just 4 months after the amputation of my right arm due to the injuries I suffered during the accident. I loved the sport from the first time I struggled to put on my boots on that snowy day in lake placid. After that introduction skiing camp which was aimed at physical rehabilitation and not so much at racing I knew I wanted to make skiing a huge part of my life, and so I did.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">I started to heavily research cross country skiing training and with the help of various coaches and organizations I put on my very first block of intense training. After my first summer and fall of cross country skiing training I started to compete on my first races alongside able bodied skiers that have been training way longer than I have and even though I was not as fast as I could be, everyone knew I had the heart, and cheered me on and so I kept going.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Later that racing year I started to compete against other Paralympic athetles and I found out that I was in fact a competitor. I attended nationals in soldier hollow and I was able to put on a solid performance earning me a couple of first place medals within my division. Due to that performance I was invited to compete in the next stage of competition in a World Cup in Cable Wisconsin. There I met the top Paralympics cross country skiing athetles in the world.. I gave it my all and came close.. Close enough to earn me a spot in the US national development team. All in one year and a half..</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">In my second year of real training, I have chosen to join the Maine Winter Sports Center ranks in northern Maine in order to possibly reach a higher level of skiing and make the US Paralympic team that will be competing in Sochi Russia in less than a year. Training will be hard, I am up for it.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">There is nowhere else to go but to rise.. There has never been another option in my life.. Rise I will.</div><div><br></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-66860400250161834302013-07-18T15:57:00.001-07:002013-07-18T15:57:50.271-07:00A month to remember<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmL3tTfPnXtrpYdsbbBWgzrix-PF0O4txKSSyMX1ZMKDk53aOpn_0z42bckziFTHZIpYe72nE3HIrj-Hh9QvRhR5-1qssVXrsXYNu-yOwYhaegA4aklb5tk6YaHKA5bbDPdfcYIA5EY2k/s640/blogger-image--312624380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's almost crazy to say, but it has been a month since I have been in the most northeastern side of the country training to become a great skier in Maine.</div></div><div><br></div><div>So far I have made very fundamental changes to my skiing technique and I have been feeling a better skier overall, however I am not as strong as I could be so I'm currently working on that.</div><div><br></div><div>My motivation and my mental health it's in an all time high. I think being part of a team has helped me become a better person in so many ways. The first obvious change is that now I can be part of something greater than just training like crazy and hope to make the Paralympics. Being part of team has given me a chance to become a part of a community of people that are trying to do the same thing I'm doing and to see how they do it. My motivation has improved because now I have a bunch of really cool kids around me that look up to me so I must always give them something to strive for and that is not giving up no matter what life throws at you. I love it.</div><div><br></div><div>I have 3 months before I'll have to compete again.. I think being here will propel me to become what I want to be.. A great skier.. Can't wait</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbSI19j1U73nXCFTCAKx_sHIibSqnP3nyJHs2DsnvyoPr2H0fNvXpYQYQiIg3TmCg15qbkZzW1hqVFV12N-oB-Ue9vwq4cgx995NI2yJCsInEpQg3WhdIdzWuVWWaLxr6QfNZ3b94a7YU/s640/blogger-image--769116220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbSI19j1U73nXCFTCAKx_sHIibSqnP3nyJHs2DsnvyoPr2H0fNvXpYQYQiIg3TmCg15qbkZzW1hqVFV12N-oB-Ue9vwq4cgx995NI2yJCsInEpQg3WhdIdzWuVWWaLxr6QfNZ3b94a7YU/s640/blogger-image--769116220.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNBIveeih8CmfkRGMpUNKJk94u1LDghnvsL4nzCaHKNGB5u1ui6r0ggSal7XzW2fu2BMjv9YZFerPcWRGET8Nkj7sNZmwbt8KN1gvU2GZnlVZfuJggtZagXosaalz2Q_QUzuXadCNNT8/s640/blogger-image-21112460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNBIveeih8CmfkRGMpUNKJk94u1LDghnvsL4nzCaHKNGB5u1ui6r0ggSal7XzW2fu2BMjv9YZFerPcWRGET8Nkj7sNZmwbt8KN1gvU2GZnlVZfuJggtZagXosaalz2Q_QUzuXadCNNT8/s640/blogger-image-21112460.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmp2nrNh0d1W9zb0ruYi66S4oJundsXMC-WFMNQ6CHCD4_JTq2XZN4uM7odFq5MjX9lm6qI7MEihZNsP06eTovFR5cpaOo748y1r98wKijYFfFWJvYEOQQhwEzTsXHDci_JWXQVVXthqM/s640/blogger-image--177883109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmp2nrNh0d1W9zb0ruYi66S4oJundsXMC-WFMNQ6CHCD4_JTq2XZN4uM7odFq5MjX9lm6qI7MEihZNsP06eTovFR5cpaOo748y1r98wKijYFfFWJvYEOQQhwEzTsXHDci_JWXQVVXthqM/s640/blogger-image--177883109.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UoYkRPtzQOr9LL1xJCAYLH8u10IrKKKUSDqJzceFuF8gnPC-D5Ia_kXmp59YBGsDRDlz2BiGFiy8xCIdYrZeRNEjtcWFaGic9esGXZUXm67HGRp9zlnT5PLFdycOPrzcEOuSQbs-adw/s640/blogger-image-2060414712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UoYkRPtzQOr9LL1xJCAYLH8u10IrKKKUSDqJzceFuF8gnPC-D5Ia_kXmp59YBGsDRDlz2BiGFiy8xCIdYrZeRNEjtcWFaGic9esGXZUXm67HGRp9zlnT5PLFdycOPrzcEOuSQbs-adw/s640/blogger-image-2060414712.jpg"></a></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-81687370007782574342013-07-07T13:58:00.001-07:002013-07-07T13:58:12.204-07:00Two weeks in MaineBefore I came to Maine I was not really sure what to expect. Well it has been two weeks since I arrived to this very different and interesting place and all I can say I'm enjoying the ride so far.<div><br></div><div>Everyday is a new and exciting bundle of new workouts. Some easy some really hard. A couple of days ago we went "bogging", which consisted of running as hard as you can through marshlands. It was hard indeed but also incredibly fun.</div><div><br></div><div>Yesterday we were part of 7k adventure race which was the Maine version of a spartan race minus the fad and the costly entrance fees. After jumping through ponds and army crawling through heavily forests I was tired but felt so alive.</div><div><br></div><div>The rollerski is also heavily on effect in Maine. I love how Will, my coach, figure out ways to help me ski faster and more efficiently and so far it's working. I have had already more technique work than I did all last summer and it feels great because I can feel my body becoming faster while using less energy.. It's a great feeling.</div><div><br></div><div>Being part of a team has been great, and the benefits have become apparent. We ride together to training venues and we feed energy to each other. I have been learning so much from new roommates about skiing and def about some country living.. Things I did not take part in my past.</div><div><br></div><div>Next week is the first Maine camp where a lot of skiers from everywhere will join us and we all will try to become better skiers and people through it. Needless to say I am very excited!! </div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-39586627505078854672013-06-28T14:09:00.000-07:002013-06-28T14:09:28.320-07:00DesireI desire to be the best skier I can be.. And that is just the beginning..<br />
I desire to be the best person I can be.. And that is a change..<br />
I desire to be a good memory to everyone that meets me.. And that is hard to imagine..<br />
I desire to be remembered.. And that is something I'm willing to fight for..<br />
I desire someone to read this and know all this before-hand.. And that is up to them..Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-56544080919847989002013-06-27T08:11:00.001-07:002013-06-27T08:11:27.146-07:00Round two: Enter MaineAs the last season ended with three weeks of non stop racing from Wyoming all the way to California it was time for me to take a vacation and plan my next move. I asked around to see where would be a good place to resume my training for the start of my second season and get prepared for the possibility of going to Sochi, and in the mix Maine Winter Sports arose victoriously.<div><br></div><div>Why Maine? There's many reasons but the main reason that made sense to me was the opportunity to belong somewhere in the Nordic world where all my questions can be answered and I could train without the question of "am I doing this right?", which last season I found myself asking many times.</div><div><br></div><div>Well, after literally a week worth of driving across the country I finally have arrived to this very new land that they call upper Maine. I arrived and I was very welcomed by my new teammates to the famous farm house in Caribou, I put my stuff down in the room that they had recently painted prior to my arrival and I proceeded to feel comfortable. The very next day I met all my new coaches and ran a very "hello!! Here's Training!!" 5k race in downtown Caribou.</div><div><br></div><div>Now it's been almost a week since I have been here and I'm still getting used to the mechanics of it all but I can already tell its going to be a very hard and fun summer, and I'm totally ready and excited for all of it.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwSPY_DdbG74xAXbvXmvxeqSuzRla7Xss3OqnAIzY4K8QGaq3OAXNN9awqyB4sk9YgVsz-wqYEWxf9czOoz44JHmlfZhbjoIIfACre3cghWVzD9Ej5YPAmaXXo5P38t1K4bxM7QEnCY8/s640/blogger-image-1871634480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwSPY_DdbG74xAXbvXmvxeqSuzRla7Xss3OqnAIzY4K8QGaq3OAXNN9awqyB4sk9YgVsz-wqYEWxf9czOoz44JHmlfZhbjoIIfACre3cghWVzD9Ej5YPAmaXXo5P38t1K4bxM7QEnCY8/s640/blogger-image-1871634480.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXQ2ymDU61ZE5wHQqLE1oBfnAU5rUzkVBCZDbPTeU2BMZyALo-wx8KcA8i-vbHLMd1X_p1v4TLWiZHFP8eAxxwzumMpFC9sQFkGk2Toxt6G-tOmRmH28neZ5rOcCYML2eXFUWkf1dTP1Y/s640/blogger-image-1043037093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXQ2ymDU61ZE5wHQqLE1oBfnAU5rUzkVBCZDbPTeU2BMZyALo-wx8KcA8i-vbHLMd1X_p1v4TLWiZHFP8eAxxwzumMpFC9sQFkGk2Toxt6G-tOmRmH28neZ5rOcCYML2eXFUWkf1dTP1Y/s640/blogger-image-1043037093.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGweza3v_rbPsQubKXzyubJu7RdryuiG203gMMwcvYpeKCCW3JYiSuGSFjimLvYLqdKhvps8kcpA-ulQAjhtFUC7M-NRw2uK75OJU5uNsw_Xw3rziQQ4nxugswCT2NbZ_0X2MEkhDWPHo/s640/blogger-image--987398456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGweza3v_rbPsQubKXzyubJu7RdryuiG203gMMwcvYpeKCCW3JYiSuGSFjimLvYLqdKhvps8kcpA-ulQAjhtFUC7M-NRw2uK75OJU5uNsw_Xw3rziQQ4nxugswCT2NbZ_0X2MEkhDWPHo/s640/blogger-image--987398456.jpg"></a></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-68503508699976007662013-02-03T18:32:00.001-08:002013-02-03T18:32:04.699-08:00StressJust went through the two most stressful weeks I have had in a long time.. Races, events between them, driving, and the lack of training time and recovery made me a ticking bomb.<br />
<br />
I don't know if I can diffuse myself or just explode.. I need some time to find myself and go on with my journey. I know what I should do it's just a matter of executing it.<br />
<br />
These are trying times.. I must move on, I must survive.Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-44406904634163326692013-01-30T13:49:00.001-08:002013-01-30T13:52:01.127-08:00InnocenceLife can bring us down sometimes.. That's what everyone says at one point or another.. Today I realized that is not really life that bring us down but it's the things that we fill our lives with that do, not life itself.. As I was getting ready to race, a bunch of 6th graders started cheering for me and my teammates.. I couldn't help it but to go and get them even more excited that they already were.. I took a picture with them and that's when I shared a part of their innocence.. It was very liberating and my mind was completely clear.. See, those kids have not filled their lives with greed, hate, jealousy, or materialism.. They truly want to be there for the experience, the chance to laugh and enjoy themselves.. It felt good to be free of all that.. It's a feeling I will look forward to. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_BuKJwBQXFRejFfu2YGzLBd8OwUaccy8UaRX5YgikX8UpjiAsDcB8PiRV17iFA0kGnR4ubXwDUNukrZKUtKnp8yJeHA8JDss7xfWH7YisxHB0yi8brtlWYQEgwY0e-0hC69ZaMdu7u4/s640/blogger-image--916562660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_BuKJwBQXFRejFfu2YGzLBd8OwUaccy8UaRX5YgikX8UpjiAsDcB8PiRV17iFA0kGnR4ubXwDUNukrZKUtKnp8yJeHA8JDss7xfWH7YisxHB0yi8brtlWYQEgwY0e-0hC69ZaMdu7u4/s640/blogger-image--916562660.jpg" /></a></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-53516229936414163502013-01-23T15:46:00.001-08:002013-01-23T15:46:03.294-08:00PatienceCarl Jung wrote "Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. It is far better take things as they come along with patience and equanimity."<br />
As much I want things to appear such as medals and happiness I must be patient and realize that those things can not be accomplished in a couple of weeks. One step at a time, forward, knowing exactly why is it that I am going that way.. That's the formula to success.<br />
Patience, however, can diminish the passion.. If I don't have the mental strength to balance patience with personal achievements then the passion will become stale. I will be patient, but I will be strong every time it is demanded out of me.. Especially if I am the one demand it. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sFh_NHCNo7emn4FpFBEEN_eBnkyfi6jSKpNCjTa5JQLamu_SOHd4MvBVfcaXH0gJiKR1F7OXIlpowRb0l0h20KpLscsmV00HZBE1ptAeL4oEHZ2vaJSVfDkskzQk8xqPl_18Jb5tDW4/s640/blogger-image-55869633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sFh_NHCNo7emn4FpFBEEN_eBnkyfi6jSKpNCjTa5JQLamu_SOHd4MvBVfcaXH0gJiKR1F7OXIlpowRb0l0h20KpLscsmV00HZBE1ptAeL4oEHZ2vaJSVfDkskzQk8xqPl_18Jb5tDW4/s640/blogger-image-55869633.jpg" /></a></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0Casper Mountain Trail Center Casper42.738181 -106.318065tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-40941027409705240902013-01-16T14:22:00.001-08:002013-01-16T14:22:20.777-08:00FearAs I'm looking at a beautiful lake, reading about the birkebeiner, I can't not help to think about the big picture of all the things that I'm going through.. I should be scared.. I should be buckling at my knees when I see at what I am against.. But I am not.. I am learning, I am evolving, I am becoming what I will be in a couple of years.. I see fear and I laugh and they know I'm coming.. And if they don't know then they are the ones that should be afraid.. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjHZx2r8HNaSHxY9_Nup5aQSu1fq1lmRyJaqoorcjqmaX-FCxzAZJfLZtbdo6aSlcQIfUSzIrJRNgCKmev4k0UyeN81xZMSxhcrgZze6dbfLV4ekXIYodDEQvrleTSk8R2bjz4rrmmyc/s640/blogger-image--229422327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjHZx2r8HNaSHxY9_Nup5aQSu1fq1lmRyJaqoorcjqmaX-FCxzAZJfLZtbdo6aSlcQIfUSzIrJRNgCKmev4k0UyeN81xZMSxhcrgZze6dbfLV4ekXIYodDEQvrleTSk8R2bjz4rrmmyc/s640/blogger-image--229422327.jpg" /></a></div>Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-39735525760425584302012-12-26T12:36:00.001-08:002012-12-26T12:38:20.513-08:00Lifetime..Most people usually have many paths to follow and many ways to follow that path in their lifetime.. Some people just follow one.. Either way, some of us do not care to know where other people come from and how their path has come to cross theirs.. Here we all are, if you're reading this it means our paths have crossed at some point in our lifetimes.. Are you asleep at the wheel or are you aware? Do you care to know where I am going? Do you know where you are going? Are you racing through your life time to win whatever it is that you're rushing for? Here we are.. Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-9939404963556374582012-12-21T12:20:00.001-08:002013-01-23T15:49:39.146-08:00Guns of the real patriotsAbraham Lincoln, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, or anyone printed on American bills did not have to raise a gun TO PROVE that they're American and that they're willing to fight for their country. They did it with guts, character, and intelligence.<br />
<br />
All this talk about guns, it's ownership, and ridiculous catch 21 scenarios against the president we have elected as a nation in the eve of Christmas after a tragic act of violence against innocent lives just proves that we are scared, we have lost our pride in one another, and that this nation needs to wake up..<br />
<br />
No one will ever take what's rightfully ours, if its truly ours.. Our self imposed right of taking everything for granted is making us weak and tearing us apart. It's not about guns, it's not even about being right or wrong.. It's about being there for one another.. As a son, daughter, siblings, father, mother, friend, and most importantly as an AMERICAN.Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-50661923710606040422012-12-17T12:36:00.001-08:002012-12-17T12:36:26.430-08:00Vivere militare estTo live is to fight.. Life is uncertain, death is most certain.. Fill everything in between with things you could be proud of.. Don't ever let anyone think you don't deserve what you have, and own up and learn from your mistakes.. To live is to fight! Fight with honor, fight with class, fight til' your bones collapse..Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-87734544986488783562012-12-14T08:16:00.001-08:002012-12-26T12:44:49.768-08:00There was a time...June 8th, 2008.. The day to forget, and the day my life changed.. The following months after that were the hardest I have ever experienced in my entire life. Guns and Roses rendition of the Bob Dylan song "knocking on heavens door" takes me back to those days.. Days of insanity, days of hopelessness, days of self destruction.. <br />
<br />
Its true when they say that one of the ways to appreciate life to the fullest is to almost die.. There was a time when I lived life and never saw what I was throwing away.. There was a time when I came one inch to dying.. There will be a time when those things will make me a stronger man.Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-34748043933822738812012-12-12T22:22:00.001-08:002012-12-12T22:22:27.943-08:00Stay wide awakeNot literally sleeping.. But in a state of letting everything happen as I choose not to do anything about it.. I have never liked that feeling.. I want to matter, I want to succeed, I want to make a dent in this world.. As insignificant as it could possibly be, I want to know I did it.. I'm up, and wide awake..Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-26642045004105374902012-12-10T06:12:00.003-08:002012-12-13T02:01:24.570-08:00The endMachiavelli wrote "the end justifies the means".. He wrote that in order to teach a prince how to properly fight during a war.. With the end in mind at all times and doing whatever necessary to accomplish that.. The end.<br />
<br />
He explains that if the prince is ignorant of the end he can neither be respected by the soldiers nor trust them. Therefore, he must both practice and study this art. <br />
<br />
My end of the journey is still many years ahead of me, but that does not mean its unreachable.. I must think about it everyday, and ask myself "what means am I doing today that will get me closer to the end?" Every movement, every action, every day.. The end is coming.Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-56299567491811658472012-12-10T06:12:00.001-08:002012-12-10T13:00:15.863-08:00ReminderThis is to you.. The one writing this.. Never forget who you were, are, and what you want to do.. You left home when you were 17 to prove that the world is there to be taken.. At 20, you rose above everyone to become a leader amongst the elite in the Marines.. At 24 you had it all and lost it all but you did not lose who you were.. At 28 not only did you lose it all again, you gained perspective in life.. At 30 you are training your butt off to prove the world once again that it will have to do a lot better to get rid of you.. In the next few years not only will you gain it all again, YOU WILL KNOW that all of it was was worth it.. Hang in there.. Your time is coming.. But not yet.. Your biggest fight approaches.. Look at it in the face and own it!!Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3537393443581509086.post-27380850254535915042012-12-07T17:36:00.001-08:002012-12-07T17:36:27.376-08:00Piano sonata No. 14 MoonlightLoved skiing to this truly mesmerizing song this morning..<br />
<br />
This piece of art from Beethoven is much like smooth skiing.. <br />
<br />
Beethoven wrote "Si deve suonare tutto questo pezzo delicatissimamente e senza sordino" ("One must play this whole piece very delicately and without dampers.")<br />
<br />
It helps to have the proper kick wax..Omar Bermejohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05158463546959395094noreply@blogger.com0