As they prepare for the next stages of their lives, members of the Brooklyn College Class of 2018 share their thoughts on some of the more complex and challenging aspects of their areas of study. For more on this year’s commencement, visit our Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter pages. Use the #BCGrad2018 hashtag to join the conversation. Nicole Solis-Ramirez is a member of the Class of 2018 graduating with a bachelor of arts in English and a bachelor of arts in history, with a minor in Puerto Rican and Latino Studies. Solis-Ramirez, who hails from York, Pennsylvania, is of European and Japanese descent. She made the Dean’s List every semester she attended Brooklyn College. She was also accepted into the Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellowship, where she conducted research on a series of Roman coins from 100 B.C. The data she assembled during the semester will add to Department of Classics Associate Professor Liv Yarrow‘s ongoing research in that area. She also made the Department of English’s Chairperson’s List of Outstanding Scholars in 2017, and works part time in the Brooklyn College Learning Center as an English tutor. Solis-Ramirez’s husband is Mexican American, and she is the mother of four children, ages seven to one, two of whom are currently enrolled in the Brooklyn College Early Childhood Center. She says she works to ensure that her children are educated about their heritage so that they are instilled with a sense of pride. She is a full-time student, a mentor in the Peer Mentoring Program, and an elected member of the Community Education Council for her home district in Brooklyn. She credits the Magner Career Center for helping her to prepare for the job market by providing resources such as cover letter and resume review and career advisement. She was accepted into Brooklyn College’s Master of Arts English Program and hopes to one day become a college professor. Solis-Ramirez shared her thoughts on how identity, history, and literature intersect, and what impact all three have had on her and her family. “There are layers to rebuilding a system that does not erase or ignore the works of marginalized perspectives in literature. The Internet and social media have given people a platform that is special in the way that it crosses age, race, and gender barriers. Yet, living in this unique moment that offers us an opportunity to celebrate marginalized voices is not enough. Changes need to be made at a larger institutional level and we, as the people who are the foundation and support of these institutions, have a responsibility to hold them accountable. “On an individual level, we need to hold ourselves responsible for unlearning Eurocentric and colonial ideologies. In my own experience, I was never exposed to literature or literary characters that represented me. I never questioned why some books were considered ‘classics,’ and what it meant to have characters of color being depicted by white authors. My educational experience at Brooklyn College made me more aware of how unaware I was. Just because someone is a woman does not mean that she cannot contribute to the patriarchy. Just because someone is other than European does not mean that they cannot contribute to Eurocentrism. The acceptance of the Eurocentrism of literature is compliance— we need to hold ourselves and our institutions accountable for the silencing of marginalized perspectives. “As a woman who is multiracial but white passing, my struggle has not necessarily been the same as other marginalized groups. Growing up in a small, predominately white town, I think that my siblings and I were very aware that we would never be accepted as white or Japanese. From a very young age, I loved reading; literature was my great escape. However, I never found authors who vocalized feelings through their characters that were similar to my own. “Partially because of how those that have preceded me have been silenced and because those with similar experiences were not present in the literature that was introduced to me, understanding my own identity has been a continuous process with no starting point. Yet, another layer of my struggle lies in the fact that my grandmother, who immigrated to the United States from Japan, was silenced. My grandfather did not permit my grandmother to teach her children her native language. There was no sense of pride instilled in my family lineage. Perhaps I silenced my own voice because of my feelings of inadequacy. When I think about marginalized voices being heard in spaces where they have been silenced, I think of my children. I want them to hear voices similar to their own, and I want them to be able to speak. My partner was born and raised in Mexico, and because of the many political discussions that are currently present in the United States, we have worked very hard to instill a sense of pride in every cultural identity that exists within our children. Because these voices have been historically silenced, the most important lesson I can teach them is that their voice is significant because of who they are.”