They did the best they could with what they had, and other thoughts on my parents.

“They did the best they could with what they had” is something I often say, referencing my parents when telling my story.

Jessica with her parents. Age 11 months.
With my parents, age 11 months. Brooklyn.

Often, there is this narrative that immigrants only want their kids to enter high-paying professions, to become doctors or lawyers.

In my parents’ case, this was not true.

I’ve wanted to be a teacher since kindergarten when Ms. Youssef helped ease my daily crying about being around a bunch of strange kids. Then, my high school teachers and mentors, Mr. Bailey, Ms. Frosch, Mr. Goden, Sra. Pimentel, and Ms. Murphy, inspired me to want to help others find their lightbulb moments while feeling wrapped in warmth and acceptance.

My dad in his older years by a pool wearing a bright green towel and my mom's hat.
My dad in his later years in Costa Rica.

I grew to love my teachers, and when I told my parents that I wanted to grow up to help others learn, my parents proudly encouraged me. When I was getting ready to graduate from high school, Papi joined a group of other dads singing to students at a senior parent event. He fumbled through the words, but he didn’t care. Papi beamed at me, though he didn’t know or understand a single word of what he was singing along to because it was in English and he only spoke Spanish. He was just proud to be there for me as I got ready to go to college to pursue the education he had worked so hard for me to get.

My parents never pressured me into any career path. They wanted me to have an education and a better life than they had in Cuba (dad) and Costa Rica (mom).

They wanted me to be happy.

After getting an email from a new student in my Writing to Heal Program (which starts on Saturday, 9/30!) where the student stated, “Thank you, and please say thanks to your parents for having a wonderful, ambitious, smart child who gives it all away, from me.” I called my mom and translated the message.

Her response, “Claro que si!” (hahaha!)

Jessica as a little girl in the kitchen with her mom.
With my mom in Brooklyn.

I am so grateful that today, I have a safe, stable, and happy life that my parents fought hard for me to have. I’m also thankful to have returned to helping others find their lightbulb moments through teaching and coaching.

My teaching today is not how I initially envisioned this role, as I went from working with middle schoolers to working with either college students or adults on their healing journeys. Still, like my mother always says, “Uno pone y Dios dispone,” meaning we can have one plan, and God can have another. Ultimately, things always work out.


Some of the wounds I have worked on healing come directly from my history with my parents, and yes, much of my success today is due to the work I have had to do on my own to get my addiction to alcohol in order.

Jessica's parents in their older age hugging, smiling, and laughing.
My parents in their home in Costa Rica (they left the US in 2016).

Multiple truths can be true, and the email from my incoming student was a beautiful reminder that I needed. My parents saw my love for working with others early on, and it was a light they did not dare put out. My parents did their best with what they had and did a damn good job trying.


Upcoming Opportunities

Six-Week Writing to Heal Program. Last one for 2023! Starts September 30th at 11 AM. Register here.

Schedule a free coaching consultation here!

Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-22 are live!

Free Support Group for Educators. October 19th. Register here.