Gonzaga Parents of the Year!
By: Monsieree de Castro
You won’t find our name in previous Spires yearbooks. Familiar faces don’t dot the visual yearbook in College Hall. There are no buildings dedicated to the de Castro name. I am the first member of the de Castro family to attend Gonzaga University. Before touring as a junior in high school, not a single de Castro had stepped foot east of the Cascade Mountains. But walking into our Seattle home, you would think I was part of a legacy at Gonzaga. Standing at five foot two and five foot four, dark hair with hints of silver, you will hear my small but passionate parents exclaim their affinity for Gonzaga to anyone who will listen. You will see them proudly sporting Gonzaga gear on a regular basis. You’ll spot their car with Gonzaga stickers roaming the streets of Seattle.
Despite their appearance, Desiderio and Monica de Castro are not alumni of Gonzaga. I am not a legacy. I come from a family of immigrants. When I was three years old, my parents left steady lives, good jobs, and most of their family behind in the Philippines to raise their children in a country filled with bigger and better opportunities. Although holding diplomas from universities in the Philippines and having strong work histories, when they arrived in America, my parents were only offered jobs far below their potential and qualifications. But they still took those jobs to provide for my siblings and me, hoping to give us a good education and endless opportunities in life. In addition to this, they never stopped supporting family members still in the Philippines. When we would go to the mall for back to school shopping, they never ceased to keep an eye open for a pair of shoes my uncle in the Philippines could wear to work. When grocery stores had big sales on toothpaste and perishable goods, my parents would stock up so they could send it home to family in the Philippines. In addition to all of this, I have lost count of how many nieces, nephews and family friends my parents have put through college.
My parents have raised me in a loving, nourishing, and stable environment. They have worked hard and sacrificed so much so that I may live a happy and full life, and ensured that no harm would come to their little girl. My parents have inadvertently instilled in me a notion of unquestionable kindness and a love that neither seeks nor expects anything in return. Desiderio and Monica de Castro give and give and give so much of themselves freely, knowing that none of it can ever be reciprocated. Asking for anything in return has never even been an inkling of a thought. Being raised by such kind and selfless human beings has engraved in my heart and in my life a passion for social justice and an endless drive to reach out to other human beings and be one with my brothers and sisters.
Four years ago, it finally became my turn to go to college. Being their youngest daughter, my parents hoped to keep me close to home at a school in Seattle. However, my heart was pulled toward a school across the state. There was only one perfect school where I could live out this passion for justice they had instilled in me. Despite their initial hopes to keep me safe and close to home, they also inspired me to follow my dreams and serve others in the same way that they have served our family. Together, we followed my dreams as it led us to Gonzaga University.
From 200 miles away, my parents have stood by as they watched Gonzaga engulf me and nourish my passions. My parents have supported me as Gonzaga has lifted me up and taken me on journeys across the globe following my dreams and setting the world on fire. They were nothing less than excited for me when I told them I was going to Neah Bay with Mission: Possible to stand in solidarity with our brothers and sisters my freshman year. I came back from Misison: Possible with an even stronger passion for justice, determined to set myself on a path toward a career where I could serve those without a voice.
As a sophomore, I was presented with the opportunity to go to Washington DC for the Ignatian Family Teach-In and advocate for social justice on Capitol Hill. They did not hesitate for a second to encourage me to take the wonderful opportunity and live out my passion. The night before departing for Washington DC, I was hit by devastating news. My parents called to inform me that my eldest sister had unexpectedly passed away. Struck and confused, I didn’t know what to do. With conviction in her voice, my mother told me to find someone, anyone around me, and give them the phone. I immediately walked out of my room and handed the phone to my nearest neighbor. As I sat shaking on the common room couch, she explained the situation over the phone to someone she knew would look after me. I took back the phone, and my mom told me to finish packing my bags. Initially, I thought she meant for me to pack to go home. What she meant, however, was for me to finish packing for my trip to Washington DC. Through all the chaos spinning around me, my parents still wanted nothing less than for me to follow my dreams with Gonzaga. They had zero hesitation trusting my Gonzaga community to take care of me during such a difficult time. Instead of rushing home, I jumped on a plane across the country with 12 other Gonzaga students to fight for our marginalized brothers and sisters. Eventually I would go home for the funeral, but other than that, I stayed at Gonzaga. During such a devastating event, most people would want their family together to support one another. It says a lot that my parents trusted the Gonzaga community wholeheartedly to embrace their baby girl, and be the loving family and community she needed to get through one of the worst heartbreaks someone can experience.
This unending trust in Gonzaga continued my junior year. The following September they put me on a plane to fly five thousand miles away toward Europe. They sent me off to study with Gonzaga-in-Florence and take part in a 50 yearlong tradition of bridging cultures and self-discovery for a year. I sent them postcards and photos of all the new places and cultures I was experiencing. In my year with GIF, I visited fifteen different countries. Without a doubt, an experience a grand as that would have never been possible if my parents had not moved to America. Although Gonzaga has taken me on this global journey, my first steps were taken with my parents. I come from their unlimited love.
Twenty years ago, my parents were carrying me around the rainy streets of Seattle as they searched for jobs and went on interviews. Four years ago they set me free so I could get an education at the school of my dreams. In these past four years they have worked multiple jobs to support my education, kept our family together after the unexpected death of my eldest sister, sent me five thousand miles away to study at Gonzaga-in-Florence, watched me fall, and rise up again. Finally, this May, they will see me be the first de Castro to walk across the stage to receive a Gonzaga diploma. Next year, we will continue following my dreams as it takes me to Phoenix, Arizona, serving as a Jesuit Volunteer at a low resource Catholic school, with a high population of immigrant children. I will serve students who were once in the same position as me, hoping to inspire in the same way my parents have inspired me.
I may not be a legacy, and my parents may not be alumni. But the de Castro family embodies the Gonzaga spirit and mission in every aspect of life. My parents are truly a man and woman for others. They have set my world on fire. I am their Zag. They are my Bulldogs. And together, we are Gonzaga.