Journey to the PhD with Trace Camacho: The Application Process

Written By: Trace Camacho

Michigan State University

Hello everyone, It’s been a while since my last post. I underestimated the amount of time and energy getting my graduate school applications together would take. I am happy that I had the holidays that followed admissions deadlines that gave me a chance to breath and decompress. Preparing and submitting those applications was definitely a process. One that you don’t have to go through alone.

I have often heard from my friends and colleagues that pursuing a Ph.D. is an isolating experience. It makes make you dig deep to find out what you are made of. As one friend said, “it’s basically academic hazing”. That being said, apply to a Ph.D. program does not have to be a isolating process and nor should it be.

During my application process I talked to anybody and everybody that would listen. This started when I was first looking at programs. I think I spoke to both Michelle and Juan, our current co-chairs, as well as numerous other members of the LKC and mentors in the field. I asked about programs I should look at, about their experiences in different programs, and how eventually I decided on which program to attend.

It didn’t stop there: These individuals became very helpful as resources when I wrote my personal statement. Some shared their own personal statements with me to give idea of where to start. Others coached me on things I may want to include in my personal statement. While others read through numerous drafts of my personal statements assisting me in putting my best foot forward in my applications.

While I could have gone through this process in complete isolation, I would have been doing myself a severe disadvantage by not taking advantage of the resources available to me. By reaching out for advice and assistance, I was able to craft the best application possible and showcase myself in the best possible way to admissions committees. There are many individuals both within and outside of the LKC that are more than willing to help you with your application process whether that be master’s or Ph.D. All you have to do is ask.

A Collection of My Childhood

Written by Neudy Carolina Nuñez
Nova Southeastern University

My name is Neudy Carolina Nuñez and I’m a proud Latina representing Venezuela and the Dominican Republic. My first passion in life is words and I have been able to emerge myself in them through my writing and in my everyday communication and interactions as a college administrator. I am currently an Area Coordinator with the Office of Residential Life and Housing at Nova Southeastern University in Davie, FL. My inspiration to these vignettes are endless days of reflection and realizing that you can’t know where you want to go without remembering who you are and embracing where you came from. Additionally, I am guided by one of my favorite quotes from an amazing woman, “Words are alive and I live them.” Dr. Maya Angelou.

Eternal Friendship: I remember when I met my cousin Barbara for the first time; she was taller than me back then. I had heard so much about her and was eager to meet her. On the way to my grandparent’s Palisade Avenue apartment I was full of energy, I knew that she was there waiting for me and I had brought some Barbie dolls to play with. When my parents knocked on the door, my uncle opened it and there she stood. I was so excited that I hugged her so tightly and unknowingly made her cry. To my surprise, she didn’t know who I was. She shied away and stood scared behind my uncle’s leg pant. With a messy pony tail, through thick glasses she stared at me but didn’t say anything. I smiled and wanted her to like me as much as I liked her. I told her I missed her and called her “mi prima”. Eventually she came around and we played. Then we talked. We got reacquainted and became best friends. We were inseparable and I’ve loved her ever since. I was 3 years old.

The Promise of a Dream: I remember my first plane trip. I sat next to my dad and he let me have the window seat. I was looking at the clouds and asked him if I could ever touch a cloud and if he had ever touched one. He explained that they weren’t solid things but just fluff made out of air and told me no one could ever touch a cloud or walk on a cloud. I was disappointed and he saw this in my eyes. He smiled and then told me that one day he would build me a tall ladder that could reach the sky. He said that, that way I could climb up and touch the clouds and even play in them whenever I wanted. I was 3 years old.

Courage: I remember getting on the NYC subway at 242nd street and Broadway with my mom and my sister. We did this every Sunday as we traveled to “manjatan” to buy groceries because it was cheaper than getting them in Yonkers. My mom always looked so scared every time we had to step inside the train. She feared that we would miss a step and slip through the small space between the train and the platform. Once on, she would be relieved and sat us closely next to her. I would always kneel on the seat to look out the window waiting for the darkness of the tunnel. At the site of the tunnel, Johanny would nervously climb on my mom’s lap. My mom was alone with 2 young daughters in a foreign country, lost in translation not knowing anyone. My dad was in Dominican Republic and couldn’t leave the country-legally. My mom knew that her stop was 181st and she looked forward to get off that train, attentively looking at each stop and street name on our way there. Once there, she would hold our hands so tightly that at times I could feel her nails puncturing my skin, but I felt protected. Before the supermarket, we would stop for lunch. She would buy Johanny a slice of pizza and made sure she didn’t choke on the cheese. She bought me a “papa rellena” and if she had enough money she would buy herself a “sandwich cubano” from the corner store on 187th. And as scared as she was on the ride there and as scared as she would be on the ride back-she knew that for my sister’s and I sake, on Sundays she had to have courage. I was 4 years old.

Locos Pero Pocos

Written By Cristobal Salinas Jr.
Iowa State University

Locos Pero Pocos is poem that represents and speaks the experiences of men with membership to a Multicultural fraternity. It also gives a small cultural context of the Latino culture. The poem was written in Spanish with the purpose of hazing awareness in the Latino culture, and to represent and validate the experiences and challenges that some fraternity men have faced. The poem is dedicated with love and respect to the men that shared their stories with me.

Bienvenidos al reto.

No entiendo, estoy perdido, y no me respetan,
Me gritan, me insultan, me mandan, y me ignoran.

La Pinta, la Niña, y la Santa María,
Venimos con estrés,
Vivimos entre locos pero pocos,
Es un hecho, que al caso no lo vez.

Vivimos con historia,
Paciencia requerida para soportar,
Vivimos confundidos y perdidos,
Y ellos siguen sin respetar.

Ya estoy cansado de llevar rocas en el bolsillo,
Ya no soporto los gritos y los insultos,
No les gusta mi trabajo que se sienten a mi lado,
Mi gente es siempre firme,
Acaso no lo has notado.

Son clases poderosas,
Niños que quieren educar,
Pero en vez de dar clase,
Nos ayudan a sofocar.

Echarle ganas, y mejor que sobresalgas,
Si te vas no regresaras,
Todos somos como las estrellas fugases.

Nos quieren sacar los ojos,
Somos causa de su enojo.
Cero drogas, Cero compasión,
Pero al final hay mucha tentación.

Hace un año éramos desconocidos,
Este año somos reconocidos,
Nos perdimos entre gritos e insultos,
Pero nos hayamos entre los morados.

El secreto es que es una obra,
Que tiembla y tiembla.
Vivimos entre locos pero pocos,
Es un hecho, que si nos equivocamos
El poso no perdona.

Tiene precio.

Aunque suene tan sencillo,
Llevo todos los ladrillos,
Hasta que se cansen los niños,
Y de gritar los grillos.

Todo es como un tornillo,
Hipócritas
Buscan como humillar,
Pero al final todo es un amar.

Nos pisaron como ratas,
Son pocos pero locos,
Pero todos nos amamos.

No es tan fácil,
Aunque suene tan sencillo,
Pintare cada ladrillo,
De nuestro Castillo.

Mis talentos con ellos no están de sobra,
Nos unimos los mejores porque solo estos sobreviven,
Nada tememos, nos unimos, y lo dudo cabrones que nos deriven.