There I was in the car on the way to my new house. I was two and a half years old. We were on the highway as I was watching the cars speed by and looking at all the buildings in downtown Hartford. Then the moment we pulled on the street, I got nervous because this place was unfamiliar to me. When I got out of the car the smell of the air was crisp and the wind felt good on my freshly cut hair. As I looked at my house that was half green and half white, I was a little nervous and scared because everything was new. This was my adoption day and also the beginning of the most important days of my life.

Before I was adopted, I was with my biological mother. My biological father was never there, and the day that I got taken my birth mom was out doing what she was always doing and somehow she ended up getting arrested. While she was getting arrested, she told them that her son was at home. After that the police came and got me from my house where I was staying with her random friend, and after that I don’t remember much. I do remember being in a big office building and my soon to be adopted mom would come and visit me in the building downtown Bridgeport that they kept me in. I don’t remember much of where I would sleep but I do remember how happy I was to see this random woman that I had no memory of but I knew when I was with her I was happy, and I could just be myself. Eventually after a short period of time I

went home with her, her husband, and her two kids. After that day, I was a part of a family that would change my life and make me who I am today.

I feel like this memory of me being adopted was always in the back of my head, but as time passed, it really didn’t feel real, it felt like a dream. I just fit in so well and everyone liked me like I was their real family so the thought of me being adopted would seem like a fantasy.

I still remember the day I found out I was actually adopted. I was eight or nine. The way I figured it was one day I was watching Wizards of Waverly Place and one of the main characters, his name was Max, asked his parents if he was adopted. That sparked an idea because I had been having some dreams about my little self being in this building while my mom would come visit, so I got out of their bed and as I was walking to the living room of my one story house I felt my heart start beating out of my chest. Then the moment came where I asked; I hesitated at first but then I just blurted it out to them: “ Am I adopted?” Once I asked, the sparkle and light on my mother’s face went dark and her beautiful smile was gone. She then told my brother and sister to go to my brother’s room and told me to sit in the chair that she was sitting in. As she told me I felt my heart sink; my face got red and I felt my eyes filling up with my tears. As she kept explaining it to me my tears were endlessly flowing down my face like a river. After she was done, my dad gave me a big tight hug and my mom said to me, “Even though I didn’t give birth to you, I never never seen you anything less than my own son.” I was so confused I didn’t know how to feel at first, and that was when I realized this fantasy that I always thought was just a dream was reality. She said before I was adopted she would come visit me, and I remember I would wait for her to walk through the door and I would get so happy when she would walk through the door. We would play for hours on the

puzzle floor. I would get all exhausted and then she would have to leave. I would get sad because I was having fun and I felt like we already had that connection from the first time I met her. I realized that this woman would be the one to take me home.

I know that everyone has a different belief, but what I believe is God does everything for a reason and I think that he knew what he was doing placing me in this family. I think he saw my pain and my sorrow, so he saw a great opportunity and put it in front of me. He saw that my birth mother wasn’t fit enough to take care of me the way I needed. So he gave me a new one, a better one, the first woman that I ever loved and her name is Deanna Marie Gonzalez. She has a gorgeous smile with brown hair that goes down to the bottom of her back. She has beautiful clear skin and eyes that spark up the room. My mother is a very outgoing woman. If you asked anyone that knows her they would say that she always does more for others than herself. Everyone in the hood loves and respects her and always makes sure she’s fine when they come over. They do that because no matter who comes over, if they were hungry and she was cooking, she always made sure to make enough to feed anyone. A nickname for her that she made up was Uber Mom. She started calling herself that from when my older brother Carlos used to play basketball and she would always go to his games if she could but if anyone from the hood would want to go to see my brother we would go and she would drive us. There were times where we would have to fit two people in the hatchback of the car because there was no more room. My Mom is an amazing person and an even better parent so I am proud to call her my mother.

As for my dad, he is a very scary looking man but don’t let his appearance fool you. He is about six foot with tattoos all over his arms, legs, chest, and back. He has very light brown skin with goatee and no hair on the top of his head. He is the one in the

family that gives tough love. His way of love is to talk shit and make fun of what we do, but he means it all as love. Sometimes he says it in a way that makes us mad at him, but he doesn’t even realize that he came off that way. He loves to listen to old music or some girly songs. If you ever listen to him in the shower, you will always hear him singing over the music. I think he gives tough love because he didn’t have much of a father figure as he was growing up so no one taught him anything really but even under those circumstances he is doing the best he can as a father to his own children. He is my biological mom’s uncle; that’s how he came to know about me and want to rescue me from a bad situation. I thank God for that.

God also gave me my brother and sister who, even though I wasn’t their actual brother, treated me nothing less than their own flesh and blood. My sister was like my second mom; she would be the person that would watch me when I was little and I would love to just be with her. I would chill with her in her room sometimes and I would always give her hugs. As I got older and I started to grow pimples, she would always come into my room to pop them. She likes that kind of thing, and now I enjoy doing it too. My brother, on the other hand, was always the harder older brother. He would always push me around and make me do stuff for him, like this one time I was all the way across the house and I heard him yelling “Josh!” so I ran to his room for him to tell me to turn off his bedroom light. He would never let anyone else do it to me, though.

With the opportunity that was put in front of me, I was able to go to college basically for free. I was able to leave my house and still live twenty minutes away from my home and I was able to make a future for myself to look forward to. If you would have asked me a couple of years ago what I would be in the future, I would have told you that I want to be in the marines and then after that be a police officer. I would’ve

never thought I would be going to college and be writing this essay in my dorm room and studying to be a nurse. This adoption was a great opportunity for me and my nursing career, and it shaped me into the person I am today. I think it taught me how to take care of people.

The day I was adopted has much importance because that day I was accepted and loved by a forever family. That family took me in and treated me as their own and fed me and put a roof over my head. So I am very grateful that they did adopt me and I will never forget them. They made my life more meaningful and gave me something to live for and gave me someone to make proud and do everything I do for them, for the chance they gave me.

Joshua Gonzalez is a first-year student at Hillyer College. He wrote this as an assignment for Prof. Leslie Johnson’s English Composition and Literature class.