Benicio’s Essay

PERSONAL STATEMENT

I spent most of my childhood growing up in the small rural town of Cotiporã, near the southern tip of Brazil. Hidden in the Serra Gaúcha mountains, Cotiporã feels like a step back in time with its cobblestone streets, weathered colonial architecture, and verdant valleys covered by family-owned vineyards and orange plantations. In this isolated town surrounded by rich forests and steep hills, generational traditions continue to flourish, giving the sense that it is cut off from the pace of the modern world.

Good luck getting a satellite signal here. And forget trying to Zoom anyone; you’re better off mailing a hand-written letter. Farming families like mine have continued working the same land originally given to our immigrant ancestors upon their arrival from Italy centuries ago. Today, they continue cultivating grapes, corn, and sugarcane as the city’s church bells coordinate every local routine. This place feels like a land that time forgot, but to me, it is simply home.

Despite all of the modern conveniences that I didn’t have access to, I discovered hidden treasures. For example, I developed a profound sense of responsibility for the land and all living things. On our family’s farm, I spent countless hours caring for our sheep, learning how to manage their frequent ailments like worm infestations or lamb rejection (when an ewe rejects her offspring) without easy access to veterinary specialists. I learned — by doing — that by adjusting the slats on their house’s floor, I could improve their health by keeping waste off their skin. By caring for these vulnerable, white-furred, black-headed animals, I strengthened my resilience and problem-solving, making me deeply value the connection between humans and the environment.

Cotiporã’s sense of community also strengthened my understanding of how collective effort can bring people together. The town’s frequent colonial parties, especially those tied to religious occasions, allowed everyone to contribute and connect. Each family brought their culinary specialties to these gatherings — my neighbors with homemade bread and me with cappelletti soup (made with bacon, Parmesan, and nutmeg). These lunches permitted us to celebrate a crucial part of our identity: our Italian heritage, a culture filled with family and food values. The town’s unification during this collective experience showed me the power of small contributions and made me realize how, together, we become capable of building things far more significant than ourselves.

Collectively, we also planned for the town’s dramatic seasonal changes. During Cotiporã’s winters, morning frosts blanketed the ground at 0º Celsius, drying out the once-thriving grass. Each summer, I gathered fallen trees and stocked firewood to fuel the fireplaces for the cold season ahead. Alongside Paulo, the caretaker of our land, I drove our trusty 1947 red tractor around our property as we cut and organized the wood stumps to dry for winter. This annual ritual taught me the importance of hard work as I planned for the future, year after year, reminding me comfort requires consistent effort and preparation.

Yet once the day ended, Cotiporã’s peaceful quiet would always return. With no city distractions, I curled up in books and gazed at the pitch-black sky. I learned to identify constellations like Sagittarius and Scorpius. This connection to a broader universe encouraged me to look beyond the borders of my small town — my personal circumstances, needs, and desires - to consider global issues and unfamiliar perspectives.

As I prepare to venture beyond the borders of Cotiporã and explore the unknown, I will take my small-town values with me: curiosity, resourcefulness, community, and respect for the world around me.