Juliet McDermott

“Yo te llevo dentro, hasta la raíz

Y por más que crezca vas a estar aquí

Aunque yo me oculte tras la montaña y encuentre un campo lleno de caña

No habrá manera, mi rayo de luna, que tú te vayas”

Music has played an invaluable role in my life, because my family has played an invaluable role in my life. Saturday nights at home were spent in two different ways: going to a party at my aunt’s house or lying in my bed, eyes wide open, listening to the neighbor’s live banda until 3 a.m. When I heard music, I knew I would hear laughter, stories and the voices of the people that have supported me my whole life.

Music and family only became synonymous when I left for college. Moving from Houston, Texas to Brunswick, Maine was a culture shock in itself, and I missed the sounds of home that used to fill my everyday life. This includes moments when my father blasted Los Tigres del Norte or Rock en Español as he dropped me off at my private, predominantly-white high school or when my mom played old Spanish music while she washed the dishes.

The importance of family is deeply embedded in my culture and has been instilled in me from a young age. Family is a unit that stays together. Whether concentrated in a city in Mexico or in a city in the U.S., children remain closely tied to their parents beyond the age of 18, and the idea of multiple generations living within one household is seen as the only natural option. Why go anywhere else? Why move away from your roots?

Natalia Lafourcade’s song,  “Hasta la Raíz,” captures a feeling I knew not until I stepped foot on Bowdoin’s campus—until I knew what it was like to leave the people and the home that kept me grounded. As the first grandchild that actively moved away from their parents and created a life of their own, leaving my roots in pursuit of better opportunities was daunting, but it’s a lesson ingrained in me since I learned how to read and write. “Nadie te puede quitar tu educación,” my mother has always said to me.

While members of my extended family questioned my decision to move 1,713 miles away from home, my parents stood firm by my decision and were excited for me to take the next step in my educational and personal life. Although their support didn’t completely alleviate the anxieties that came with transitioning into college life, they provided me with the courage I needed to persevere. Music provided me with a cultural connection to a community that—while physically residing far away—still lives within me. Like Lafourcade said, it doesn’t matter how much I grow, my family, my culture, our music lives within me forever.

As I prepare to start my senior year this fall, questions about my future linger—not only in my mind but in my family’s. My parents raised me to be ambitious, curious and willing to make the mistakes needed to grow. I have dreamt of moving from place to place and getting to know the world on my own, but I’m scared to do so. I’m caught in between paving a path for myself, vastly different from the ones that I have known, or staying close to my parents, siblings and grandparents. I don’t know where I’ll be in the next five years and frankly, I’ve always hated that question; but if I crank my music up a little louder, if I play “Kumbala” or “Volver Volver” as I go through my day-to-day, I know I’ll carry my home and family with me wherever I am: hasta la raíz.

Catalina Escobedo is a member of the Class of 2026.