I was born and raised in Haiti. A hot, tropical island, which I had to leave following the earthquake of 2010 which killed about 300,000 people and injured many more. The following year, my family did what they could to get me to a better place so that I can have a chance at a better life and opportunity. This jacket was one of my first gifts by my mom when I got here, and 2021 marks 10 years. It was a symbol of warmth, rather internal, as I learned to appreciate the value of life and sacrifices. The same way, I learned to sacrifice social norms and common expectations by focusing on the one thing I was told mattered most in this life: an adequate education. Each time I wore it in 8th grade, it reminded me of the warmth there is where I came from. In high school, it reminded me that nice clothes/Jordan shoes don't define who I am to be, especially with bullying, social norms and expectations that come with that age. In college, it reminds me of where I started, how far I've come, and how much is left in my journey. Many things happened over the course of the years, despite the stress and unexpected turns the transition into adulthood has brought, yet, only when I graduate will I finally hang this jacket, hopefully right next to my diploma. A sign that will bring warmth to both my heart, as well as my mother's, a sign of gratitude for all that she had given up for this new beginning.