By Natalia Tamariz, 2024-2025 Intern
A lot of people think that moving to the USA is the best thing that can happen to them. They believe that if they come here, they’ll land their dream job, get the perfect house, and live an ideal life. But the reality is, we have a certain status in the countries where we were born — and we don’t carry that status with us when we move somewhere new. People see you as an immigrant, as an invader. And you’re alone — on your own.
I moved to the U.S. three years ago to study Art Direction. I had to navigate a new culture and adjust to using English as my second language. I remember my first day of class — I went to the auditorium and was one of the first to sit down. The meeting was about to start, and I don’t know if it was just a coincidence, but no one sat next to me. Everyone sat behind me. I tried to make friends, but the culture was very different. Sometimes I’d walk into a room, say “Good morning,” and people would just stay silent.
On top of that, at the end of my first year, the Portfolio Center — where I was studying — shut down. I had to deal with students and teachers having breakdowns every day, while I was terrified about renewing my visa. Most people didn’t even try to empathize with me. In their minds, moving from Ohio felt the same as moving from Peru.
To make things worse, some teachers started using me as an example of what not to do. I didn’t think I was brilliant, but I couldn’t understand why my work was criticized so harshly. There were plenty of other students they could’ve used to make their point. At first, I took it as a way to improve, but eventually, it just made me angry — because I constantly had to prove myself. I didn’t want to be seen as the “angry Latina,” but I felt like that place was trying to break my spirit. Imagine showing up to class every day and being made to feel like your work isn’t good enough. I wish I were just exaggerating. It felt like that nightmare some people have — standing naked in front of your classroom. That same feeling.
I honestly don’t know where I found the strength to keep going. A part of me wanted to give up and stop chasing my dreams — becoming a photographer and Art Director. At times, I felt like this country only saw me fit for one role: a nanny. But another part of me — a tiny voice inside — kept saying: “You’re good at this. It’s going to take time, but you’ll make it.” I transferred to another school with a completely different vibe — one where people didn’t need to put others down to lift themselves up. I finished my studies there.
I’m still building my path in a culture where people often try to break my spirit — because I have an accent, because I’m an immigrant, because I have tattoos, or simply because I look different. But what keeps me going is knowing my talent and knowing my worth. And this time, I’m not letting anyone bring me down.
