An alternate reality

The phone rings – it’s mom. Here it goes. Time for updates.

“How are classes? Are you sleeping enough? Don’t stress yourself out too much!” The usual.

Then her tone deepens. “Listen, the phone company called recently and they’re going to cut our cell phone service, so I may not be able to talk to you for a while,” she says. What do you do?

Most of us at Duke have been fortunate enough to never have faced the situation. It’s usually the other way around – we call our parents to help pay our cell phone bills.

For Fernando Revelo La Rotta, however, the story is all too common.

“My mom has called asking for help at least four or five times, around $100 each time, and that was just last semester,” he said. “She is a proud woman… she is very subtle about it, but I know that my grandparents and my aunt’s family also rely on her for help.”

Fernando looks down and reflects on the situation he has become familiar with over the years. It wasn’t always this way, though. Growing up in South America, he had a life of comfort and culture. With numerous artists and writers within his family, the arts were a constant part of Fernando’s life. When Fernando’s stepfather, a United States citizen, and mother both became unemployed, the family decided to immigrate to the States.

“We moved because of the land of opportunities s–,” he said with a hint of bitterness. “It is a land of opportunities but it is no promise land – it’s work or be eaten alive.”

Fernando’s feelings are understandable, given that his stepfather worked three jobs, and his pregnant mother did, too, when they first moved. Regardless, Fernando said he has gotten used to things being different. Every day throws a curve ball, but he learns to make the best of situations, a skill acquired from his mother.

Fortunately, Duke’s generous financial aid allows him to attend the university at no cost. However, any spending money he gets is from his job and refunds from books and other purchases. So how does it feel living at Duke, where designer labels, expensive alcohols, and nice meals are all too common?

For Fernando, it means saving money to buy one expensive jacket and nice clothes which allow him to fit into “high class scenarios,” but he insists that money isn’t everything.

“My family always taught me that we may not have money, but we are cultured,” he says with a hint of pride glinting in his eyes – eyes which I imagine take after his mother’s.

However, it’s easy to recognize that most of us at Duke, including myself, have privileges that Fernando may not. When my computers break, I don’t have to wonder if money spent on a new one will prevent my brother from having internet access for his homework that month. Or when I go to the movies with my family, I presume that my parents will pay for everyone rather than the other way around.

Regardless, Fernando has learned to focus on what he has rather than what he doesn’t. Doing so does not prevent the constant stress of knowing his family’s financial situation any easier, but it does allow him to focus on the good in life.

For Fernando, his family is never a point of discussion among his Duke peers, so most of them are unaware of familial stressors. Additionally, Fernando’s economic status is rarely questioned due to his generosity towards his friends, whether it’s with money or something else.

“I can’t stand to see anyone suffering,” he said.

Ironically, his words, filled with purity from the heart, triggered memories of the numerous occasions when I had failed to see my friends suffering because of my socioeconomic privileges. As someone who comes from a middle class family, I have neither struggled nor splurged, and I have certainly never been forced to recognize the consequences of my spending on my family – at least not to the extent Fernando is pushed to do every day. I presume that trips to Ninth Street will not be financially problematic for any of my friends, and an occasional night out is a norm rather than an exception.

Fernando’s openness, though, shines a new light on the presumptions we carry around at Duke, and not simply about socioeconomic status. It’s hard to open our eyes because privileges are inherently granted to us rather than earned or brought into being, and the special advantages they bring prevent us from truly noticing alternate realities. Whether these privileges are related to socioeconomic status, gender, ethnicity, sexuality, age, or ability, we all have them, and they have often blinded me from experiencing true diversity at Duke. How are they preventing you from seeing the challenges of those you live with everyday?

Bhumi Purohit is a Trinity senior. Her column runs every other Thursday.

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