What the First Day of Seminary Means to Me

Today marks my first day of seminary and I can’t stop thinking of a specific scene. I was 10 years old, sitting on my bedroom floor when I pulled out my diary and wrote out a bucket list. I can still see it. I numbered down the page and wrote out dreams, some I had seen done and others I could only imagine. On that list was to one day graduate with a doctorate degree.

At that point, no one in my family or immediate community had gone to college, let alone received a doctorate degree. Regardless,  my parents, who didn’t have the opportunity to pursue an education beyond elementary school themselves, constantly reminded us that God and education would be our keys, our way out for ourselves and for those around us. They repeated it incessantly. Dios y educación, Dios y educación. This was them, declaring both blessing and speaking out their dreams and desires for us, and that did something. I believe representation matters but where representation is absent, all we need is permission from those who know and love us to say, I see you and I believe you can be it. That’s what they did, they gave us permission to dream, in spite of the absence of representation. So I did. I dreamt. 

But I didn’t just write those dreams down on lined sheets of paper, those dreams were written deep in me. Planted in my spirit and soul as seeds. Sown by a good Father who invited to believe in the what-if’s and why-nots of a life with Him. 

Then, 2 years ago, 20 years after writing out my audacious list, after delivering a 15 minute self-translated sermon, I was approached and offered a full ride seminary scholarship. To the first generation college graduate who navigated the Christian undergrad space with deep insecurities and way too many student loans, this was a miracle that took me months to process. I would have the opportunity to pursue a theology degree without the financial burden that I had seen my family navigate for my 3 siblings and me, and the miracle of it all was not lost on me. 

This past Spring, I resigned from my teaching job, which I loved, to pursue this degree that I dreamt of. I packed up my 3rd grade classroom with tears of grief and gratitude, knowing that where we often leaned on permission, now my students  get to have the privilege of representation in all sorts of spaces, including in higher educational spaces.

I may be the only Latina last name on my cohort list, but that’s okay. In the past few weeks, since sharing that I’d be starting seminary, I’ve had so many fellow amgias reach out saying that they are doing the same and I cannot explain the encouragement and solidarity that stirred in me. In the book Latinas Evangelicas, Loida I Martell-Otero writes,

“We insist that they and we [Latinas] contribute a needed and valuable voice to Christian theological discourse from a distinctive social location, for we have each experienced the imapact that our theologies has made upon the lives of our students, colleagues, whether Latin@ or not, in the classroom as well as in academic, professional and ecclesial circles.”

So, aqui estamos. Answering the call, remembering the sueño.

Amiga, God good, kind and faithful. We are called to be faithful in the small and hidden places while refusing to write off, hide or quit on the dreams God placed inside of us. It’s time to honor our younger selves and the dreams God put in our hearts before the lies & the limits convinced us to be realistic. 

Small is not our identity. Scarcity is not our inheritance. Abundance is. It’s time to go back to the place where you lost the strength to dream and let God bring healing. It’s not always about getting the dream, it’s about allowing God to restore our original design to believe that you belong to the God who demolishes lies & crushes limits & invites us into a goodness that we can taste and see.