By Danielle Jonas-Delson, Psychology Fellow, DREAM Project, Dominican Republic on
As a linguistics enthusiast, I love thinking about how we construct our realities through language and how language, in turn, reflects and transmits elements of our cultures. My first year as a PiLA fellow with the DREAM Project felt like a constant climb — I'd push through one challenge only to meet another, and then I'd learn and discover that I was wrong about so many things. Three months into my second year in the Dominican Republic, I feel like I've settled in enough to share a glimpse into my experience. To do so, I've created a dictionary of some of the words and phrases that describe or have etched themselves into my everyday reality.
Chapter 1: Proceso de adaptación (Process of adaptation)
Se dañó (It was damaged): My first several months in the DR were a series of unfortunate events. While some of these incidents could be considered cosas de la vida (things of life), some were plain unlucky or products of stress and exhaustion. Se dañó became a frequently used phrase in my lexicon: my hearing aids stopped working because of the humid air, my computer decided not to turn on, and my leg hurt from being bit by a dog. I began pulling the words No escuché (I didn’t hear) out of my pocket numerous times daily, a phrase that I continue to use regularly due to my hearing loss. While I searched for and found solutions, both independently and with help, I became harta de todo (fed up with everything). I felt like I wasn't supposed to be here.
El gerente está aquí? (Is the manager here?): I quickly learned that patience is a necessary virtue for living in the DR, that the rhythm of life is slower than what I was accustomed to back in the United States. For instance, I had to take around seven trips to the bank in order to set up my local account because the manager had to be present. Each time, we'd ask, el gerente está aquí? and they would tell us to come back the next day at 9 am, or 12 pm or 2 pm, because the manager didn't have a schedule. Another lesson about patience manifested during my first month, when I was sitting in the office with my supervisor as the preschoolers arrived. I asked her, what are we doing right now? She laughed, remarking, we're waiting! My brain had been so wired to focus on productivity, on how many tasks I’d completed that day, that the concept of waiting seemed like wasted time.
Yo aprendo de ti, tú aprendes de mí (I learn from you, you learn from me): In order to adapt, I'd need to discard the binary notion that going to work meant simply being productive and that relationships with supervisors and coworkers should be kept professional. I'd soon begin to understand that the calendar was a guideline, not set in stone, and I'd eventually embrace the familial atmosphere in the workplace. Since I was far away from my actual family, my supervisor immediately took me under her wing. Yo aprendo de ti, tú aprendes de mí, she would say, exhibiting the non-hierarchical nature and reciprocity of our relationship.
Proceso de adaptación (Process of adaptation): Adapting to living in my host community was not a linear process; rather, my sense of belonging would ebb and flow. I’d feel settled in and then another incident would leave me questioning if I'd last until the end of the year. But when the tears dried up and I shared my stories with others, I began to laugh at the drama of it all. After every challenge I pushed through, I felt more grounded, more certain that I could keep going. I pivoted from not knowing what I was doing with my life, to researching jobs in the U.S. to escape the present, to discarding those options, discovering an interest in speech-language therapy, and considering renewing my fellowship past the one-year mark — all within those first four months.
Chapter 2: Aprendizajes (Lessons)
Se fue la luz (The power went out): This is a phrase that I hear or use probably at least once a week, whether it's exclaimed by the preschoolers when the classroom fans suddenly stop working or by us adults when we lose electricity at work or home. In my host community, tasks or issues that are considered urgent will not be addressed that very moment, but instead when the time and resources allow. One never knows exactly when the electricity will be restored, the printer fixed, the materials delivered, or the payment deposited. Without these resources, we are often unable to complete our pendientes (pending tasks). But instead of stressing over lost time, we accept the situation and adapt. We wait, figure out what we can do — and if a couple of hours have gone by and something does need to be done, we go find a place with internet access to finish our work.
Sostenibilidad (Sustainability): At the beginning of my fellowship year with DREAM, I was told I'd be responsible for a proyecto sostenible (sustainable project). By this, DREAM doesn’t mean that their fellows should implement recycling programs for the environment; rather, they are to leave behind a meaningful contribution to their program that can be recycled or built on after they leave. Fellows, who stay for only a year or so, are not the only ones who should keep sustainability in mind — so should every employee in a nonprofit. While some might become coordinators or directors, most will end up leaving in favor of other opportunities. I've seen firsthand how fellows and employees come and go, how bits and pieces of information are lost during transitions when the necessary resources aren't left behind. Setting aside extra time to document projects, initiatives, and best practices enables a smoother transition for the next fellow or employee.
Aprendizajes (Lessons): As in most nonprofits, the work can be taxing and the compensation little. No tengo cualto (I don’t have money) is a commonly uttered phrase. I’ve learned that in order to seguir adelante (carry on), we must be passionate about our work, about contributing to the community. However, this can only take us so far. If we don't try to enjoy the jornada laboral (workday) and each other's company, we will almost inevitably burn out. I experienced this burnout towards the end of my first year, after stepping in for my supervisor for three months. During this time, I became so entangled in navigating the opinions and feedback thrown at me from different angles that I lost the space to think and decide for myself. To break through my burnout, I had to confiar en mí mismo (trust in myself), tomar la iniciativa (take the initiative) to share how I felt, and reduce the pressure I placed on myself. I scaled back my responsibilities and reminded myself of the purpose of my work: to help the kids and to learn. I could only generate a sustainable impact if I prioritized my own mental and physical health.
Chapter 3: Agradecida (Grateful)
A ella le gusta reírse (She likes to laugh): If you know me, you know that I love laughing and appreciate the value of humor. While my coworkers still joke with me that I can take my work too seriously, I've been able to let my goofy side emerge. I've begun to measure each day based on how I feel at the end of the workday, on the small but impactful moments: lunchtime discussions with coworkers, positive interactions with the children, hearing a a child utter a word for the first time, the opportunity to apply my knowledge and my creativity, and the satisfying sensation that I love what I do. I think about the moments of cross-cultural connection and discovery, from the difficult conversations to the goofy relajo (joking around) and everything in between.
Zona de confort (Comfort zone): From my first day in the DR to now, I have continued to expand my comfort zone, both by intentionally pushing it and being pushed out of it. I've organized and delivered workshops to parents and teachers in Spanish, led meetings, created and implemented plans to support neurodiverse preschoolers, helped coordinate summer camp volunteers and excursions, and begun a project to work with children on their speech and language. I have run some cool races, discovered that I enjoy dancing to bachata and merengue, and somehow acquired a taste for coffee. Over time, I've grown more comfortable with what was once unfamiliar and have been able to strike a balance between the familiar and the new.
Agradecida (Grateful): Living in a community far from my roots, I've pulled pieces of myself apart, uncovered traits I didn't realize existed, and rewoven these pieces to create the person I am now. To me, displaying gratitude for being mentored by a community means not simply thanking them or reciprocating the act, but also passing the knowledge forward. I've gone from counting down the days until winter vacation a year ago to staying a second year because I wanted to continue serving and learning from this community. I've accepted that this is where I belong right now, and as the time flies by, I wonder how I am going to be able to leave. This is not to say that it's been perfect, but I am now equipped with a toolbox of lessons and a heart full of trust, patience, and gratitude for this opportunity.
During her first year with the DREAM Project, Danielle helped lead the Department of Orientation and Psychology, supporting neurodivergent preschoolers in inclusive classrooms. She also expanded her impact by beginning to work with the volunteer program, coordinating volunteers during the Summer Camp and supporting programming for incoming fellows. In her second year, Danielle continues to work in DREAM's psychology and volunteer programs.