Aary’s Triumph: Breaking Chains, Lighting Paths

In the echo of time, from the depths of struggle and despair, rises a story as timeless as a Shakespearean tragedy but with the victorious crescendo of hope. This is the story of my daughter, Aary, my beautiful, brown-skinned Trinidadian princess, who against all odds became the second woman in our family to walk the stage at Penn State University.

It was a journey not unlike a heroic play, with villains to vanquish, obstacles to overcome, and resilience shining like a star in the darkness. When Aary walked into a lecture hall of 400 people on her first day, her heart sank. She was the only woman, and the room whispered, “You don’t belong here.” She called me, tears streaming, for the fifth time in her 23 years. Her spirit trembled, but I told her, “Get back in there and show them why you deserve a seat at their table.”

Much like the speaker in Poe’s “The Raven,” haunted by doubts and whispers of “Nevermore,” she struggled to believe in herself. Her nights were long, her tears many. Yet, just as the speaker in that dark chamber finds strength to question and resist despair, Aary too fastened her resolve. I stood by her, not as a mere mother, but as her co-warrior in this battle against the chains of doubt, poverty, and generational curses.

She faced the storm of Covid, a tempest that hurled her into the darkest mental abyss she had ever known. A toxic relationship threatened to derail her, but like Prospero in The Tempest, she found her strength to cast away what no longer served her. When she faltered her senior year, ready to quit, I reminded her: “We do not quit. We do not bow to defeat. Quitting is not an option for us.”

And so, with the help of an amazing math teacher and her indomitable will, Aary emerged victorious. In December 2023, she stood where I once stood, crossing the same stage at Penn State University where I had triumphed in 2010. She was one of only five women in her graduating class.

This moment was not just a victory for Aary. It was the breaking of generational chains. It was a declaration that the poverty trap ends here. The pattern of being uneducated ends with us.

As I watched her walk across that stage, I felt as though the words of A Raisin in the Sun echoed in my heart: “Lord, if this is a dream, let me never wake up.” Aary had proven that with faith, hard work, and the courage to stand against the odds, we could rewrite the script of our lives.

This story does not end here. It begins anew with every step she takes forward, every barrier she breaks. For as the Psalmist declares, “He brought me up also out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps” (Psalm 40:2).

Aary is the proof of that promise—a light shining in the darkness, a testament to perseverance and hope. Her story is a legacy for every woman in our family and beyond: we are not bound by where we come from; we are defined by the heights we dare to reach.