Every single year, from first grade all the way up to senior year, we heard about one man: Ruben Darío. Growing up in Nicaragua, where this internationally renowned poet/writer is from, one would expect that. We covered his biography life’s works multiple times in our literature classes. I recognized his undeniable talent, but somehow I had managed to overlook the simple fact he was Nicaraguan. It was not until 11th grade when we had a field trip to his house, which is now a preserved landmark 45 minutes away from my school, that I truly understood he was truly Nicaraguan.
Coming from a small country, one that is often overlooked, I was ready to dismiss any accomplishment produced by it. So much, that I did not see around me the beauty in my country that inspired Dario. I regarded his work as a piece of art separate from Nicaragua, not born from it. This moment helped me regain confidence in telling other people where I was raised. It helped me see the beauty of a country.