Spanish Writing Center’s “El Momento”

Students write narratives remembering the moment life would never be the same

Taylor DeGuzman / Arts & Culture Editor / The USD Vista
The winning narrative, “Quédense esperando,” focuses on the eerie moment students were forced into the unknown of the pandemic and had to “stay waiting” for what the future had in store.  
Taylor DeGuzman/The USD Vista

The Spanish Writing Center is a hidden gem on campus — not many students know about the center yet, but the hard work and dedication each tutor pours into the program makes it a helpful resource for many USD Spanish majors and minors. Having a Spanish Writing Center on USD’s campus is rare because not many other universities have similar programs. 

Not only does the center offer services and revision help throughout the entire week, but it also allows Spanish speakers who need help in their writing and Spanish majors and minors alike to feel seen and supported. Resources like these are important for allowing the diversity at USD to flourish. 

The center held a writing contest centered around one simple truth: life as we know it would never be the same. The reality is that this pandemic has lasted well over a year now. Many USD students can distinctly pinpoint where they were and how they felt last spring semester, when the world flipped upside down and every sense of normalcy became fleeting.

Students answered the question: “Where were you when you began to realize that your life was going to change completely?” 

Alexa Paulina Ortiz, sophomore, wrote the winning narrative titled: “Quédense esperando” — translated in English as “Stay Waiting.” Ortiz paints a story that strikes a chord today and offers a glimmer of hope; we are not in the same place we were a year ago, we’ve come a long way. 

Before COVID-19, tutors at the Spanish Writing Center would hold weekly meetings to get organized for helping students throughout the week.
Photo courtesy of Clara Acevedo

“Quédense esperando” 

El último viernes en el campus estaba nublado y lluvioso, apto para el porvenir. Todavía no sospechaba un gran cambio porque eran nada más medidas preventivas tomadas por la escuela. ¿Verdad? 

Pero al día siguiente, fui a trabajar sin cubrebocas por última vez. Luego en un par de días, mis amigos y familia de Tijuana ya no pudieron cruzar como antes por el cierre de la línea. Después, perdí un mes de turnos en el trabajo. En menos de una semana, parecía que el mundo que antes conocía tan bien era algo desconocido. ¿Qué hacemos ya? Las únicas respuestas eran “quédense en casa” y “esperen.” 

“Stay Waiting” (English translation)

The last Friday on campus was cloudy and rainy, fitting for what was to come. I still didn’t suspect a big change because they were just preventive measures taken by the school. Right? 

But the next day, I went to work without a mask for the last time. Then in a couple of days, my friends and family from Tijuana could no longer cross as before due to the closure of the border. Then I lost a month of shifts at work. In less than a week, it seemed that the world we once knew so well was something unknown. What do we do now? The only responses were “stay home” and “wait.”

Now when some students think of the “last Friday on campus,” they see a different image. There are no longer grey skies that cloud the air, alerting some kind of impending doom. The campus is no longer a ghost town. 

There are students on campus during this spring semester. There are students with masks who safely socialize with each other and get their favorite plate from the SLP. 

There are students who attend mass and beam at the beautiful immaculata reflecting the San Diego sunshine. So much has changed since a year ago: there is a light at the end of the tunnel.