A letter from Mar 07, 2025

Luciana was screwed. Let’s face it, she was 16 and had no apparent talent whatsoever. She wasn’t really good at anything. She was obese, not that pretty, and not that good of a student. She had a B average, mid extracurriculars. She was just good at faking ****. She lived in a third-world country, where her mother was a teacher and her father worked for the government. But currently, both of her parents were living in a financial situation where they just couldn’t afford her. Though they would never admit it. Today, her mother told her she wasn’t sure she would have a job by the end of the week, and her father just didn’t have a job. He owed her mother more than 10,000 dollars in child support. Even though her life wasn’t that bad, she couldn’t complain. She lived in a nice neighborhood, had traveled to Europe multiple times, and went to one of the most expensive schools in Ecuador. But as said before, she was good at faking it. But until today, she didn’t know if it was fake or if it was real. She was privileged, that’s for sure. She never needed anything nor had to ask for anything; she would always get it. The biggest issue she always had was knowing if she was going to move to go to college. She didn’t choose her town. She dreamed of getting out, even though she was privileged. She didn’t like living in Ecuador, she didn’t like the social groups, she didn’t like the job opportunities, she didn’t like her family life, she didn’t like anything. I know Luciana sounds like the most ungrateful person alive, but this is a fact—Luciana was unhappy. She knew a boy she had liked when he was a senior and she was a freshman. He was able to leave, and that sparked Luciana’s thoughts of leaving. As I repeat, she didn’t have much control over anything, but she was blessed and grateful. Still, she was afraid. Afraid of what? Seriously. That she doesn’t have the talent for absolutely anything. That, yes, she could not go to college. Maybe she could get into college but not actually go. She had at least a good enough curriculum that could let her into college but not a good enough curriculum that could pay for her college education. Yes, maybe she was a third-world country woman, but she wasn’t really a good enough student for an outside university to want her. She knew she couldn’t get a scholarship to a good Ecuadorian college because she was privileged enough that she didn’t need one. She went to a top 10 school, she had a good enough family. It only took them reading that her stepfather was a doctor for them to accept her. And you may be wondering—why would her stepfather pay for her college education? Because he has his own children to look after, three kids to put through school and college. But his kids were European. They could live there and study for free. Luciana was just Ecuadorian. She is writing this because she is scared, scared she wouldn’t have a future and would just be stuck here. Forever. Maybe she’d have a normal mid-income husband, she’d have a profession such as a teacher or something like that, she’d have two kids and a normal third-world life. All of the effort her parents put into breaking the third-world cycle would go to nothing since their child is as mediocre as them. For her to make a great sacrifice and effort to put her kids through the same school she went to and hope they have better looks or brains to get out of this town and not keep repeating this life over and over again. But then again, she was grateful to the amount of level she could be. She was just scared. I am scared.