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I strode up the stairs and saw my sweaty, exhausted reflection bouncing back at me from the insanely elaborate and ginormous mirror. As I did, I couldn’t help but think of my second-grade school teacher and her career day project lecture to us.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” She was the first person to ask me this as well as the first to make me think about it. My response felt easy, simple and decent enough.

“A maid,” I answered gaily.

“Oh no! Anything but that!” She exclaimed, her eyes bugging out at me.

Between her next words I remember thinking to myself, who does she think she is dictating my future goals? I can be whatever I want!

I was an angry seven-year-old…and a foolish one. For when I so naively answered, a maid, my thoughts had instantly gone to my mother’s never ending soap-operas. In every show a delicate, polite, humble yet smart young lady would emerge from the shadows and play a huge role in the story. She would always end up being much more than a simple maid. In my child-like mind that meant a huge deal. I saw her as a heroic character. I wanted to be her, in a sense. I never understood that her role truly only existed in the ridiculous notion of a Spanish television show.

My teacher’s next words to me were, “One day you will be somebody and will employ a maid. But you will never be one. Don’t aspire to be one.”

Kind words should have stayed with me. They should have pushed me to reach my truest goals and aspirations. I thought about all this as I stared into my reflection of that wondrous mirror; a mirror which was mantled on someone else’s wall. The wall which belonged to the house I was cleaning.

Okay, it’s not that I didn’t entirely listen to her. You see, life takes you places that you sometimes don’t want to go. And although it had been my childhood delusion to be a cleaning lady, it hasn’t been so in a very long time. I grew up and became one with the idea of holding success. But in the wisdom-filled words of Thomas Edison, “Everything comes to him who hustles while he waits”.

I fell and tumbled low. I was jobless for over a year and although my resume spoke highly of me, it seemed employers found candidates with fuller resumes or ones that would do the job for much less. Eventually, desperation forced me to settle. It’s not the next best thing, but a job nevertheless. It allows me to put food on the table and to pay my bills and to fill up my gasoline tank. I still struggle, except I no longer struggle jobless. I see it as hustling while I search for something better.

Regardless, I am a visionary and decided to further ponder and navigate my thoughts to come up with an explanation to the answer I gave my teacher so long ago.

I came up with this:

Television is never realistic, even when discussing a reality show, there is nothing rational nor ordinary about it. And soap-operas stand high in the rank of the, Not Likely To Happen In Real Life, category.

In typical shows like these, I sort characters in two groups; the bad guys and the good guys. Most of the shows I watched with my mother included a person of service who played a somewhat heroic part. Someone who was good, smart, lovely, hated on, however, they remained good. This person, or character, was also unfortunate and deprived of. The, oh so famous maid, was usually one of these characters.

I’ve always been known to be a dreamer. I reach high for the skies in hopes of one day being able to touch the billowy clouds.

As a kid, I preferred to answer I was one of the underprivileged, meaning I could and would one day be at top while maintaining my high-spirited qualities.

I stay true to my primal motives; my words weren’t one with my thoughts then. In reality I wasn’t sure of the occupation I would embody. So my answer aimed to respond regarding my actions. That I would one day be someone great. And I believe I am.

So while I’m scrubbing kitchen and bathrooms floors on my hands and knees, I don’t really see the rag sliding under me. No, I’m still dreaming—still hunting for my dream job.

It’s ironic. Yes, I’ll admit that and I’ll even smile a bit as I mock myself. I do wonder though, what would my 2nd grade teacher say if she saw me today? All grown up and cleaning houses which should really be called mansions. “My, my, Xochitl. You sure reached your goal!” I’d laugh and respond. “Nope, still climbing. I’ll reach the top someday, though. You’ll see!”

Ah yes. Positivity. It chimes sardonically as do the bells hanging down from the home owner’s patio. And perhaps if I’d tell my friends all of this, they’d ridicule me as well. For believing in a child-like fantasy to, as they say, be somebody. But what else can I do? I’m not satisfied with how my life is. And if I don’t change it who will?

So in the mean time, I’ll keep scrubbing floors and cleaning toilet bowls. At least I’m moving forward!