University of Utah

To Learn for Spirit, To Learn for Self

Self-Narrative

Eric G. Barragan
Humanities 2001
Professor Jose Hernandez Zamudio
November 9, 2015

And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them
have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over
all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. So God created man in
his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.
-

Genesis, Chapter 1, Verses 26-27

I am a child of two fathers, and two mothers. It isnt that weird, my parents are simply
divorced. I was three years old when my beloved parents separated. I have no memories of my
mother and father being together in same place. If anything, a non-broken family is more
abnormal to me. The concept of being so comfortable with your mother that you argue with her
is foreign. Or that you are so close with your parents that you talk to them about your personal
feelings. That is weird to me, and such a situation isnt so in my life.
I was born in the United States, coming from two people who were born in Mexico. They
both came from the dust so to speak. My father was raised in Monterrey, Nuevo Leon and lived a
life of what seems to me, to be the epitome of poverty, abuse, and neglect. My mothers situation
was the same, but instead of poverty, her family faced lots of drug abuse. She was raised in
Hermosillo, Sonora. Both grew up, and converted to members of the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-Day Saints. In their early 20s after conversion, they served a mission right after. Upon
returning, they attended university, and then moved to the U.S. in Provo, Utah. First, my mother
gave birth to my brother Alexis Manuel Barragan, and then moved to Hillsboro, Oregon. After
time there, they moved back to Utah in West Valley City, and my mother gave birth to me. Eric
Gabriel Barragan.

My elementary education was easy. I learned quickly, I seemed to have a gift for
education. I attended a school known as Hillsdale Elementary, being ranked by the state, it was
ranked one out of ten. In addition it was a Title One school. That meant most of the kids came
from low income families, like me. In turn that also meant that most of the population of the
school was Hispanic. I spoke Spanish at home, and I spoke it at school often. I fit in perfectly, I
was Mexican, I liked soccer, and I liked Hot Cheetos. I didnt really care about school. I was a
kid. In my first years however, that is when I lived with my mother.
Diana Valdez had very dark brown hair, a beautiful smile, was very affectionate, and was
very fair skinned. However, she always had issues in her life, but they reached a climax during
the early elementary years of my life. She had become addicted to cocaine, she developed
depression, and her natural bipolar disorder intensified. I was never abused, but I was neglected.
She would lock herself in her room for days on end. I lived with my mother, yet I would actually
see her once a week for very little time. If I wanted to eat something, I would have to knock on
her door and ask permission. If I needed anything, I remember I had to always knock on her
door. My brother and I took care of each other. We comforted each other, fed each other, and
simply progressed in our lives. One night, my mothers boyfriend had done a little too much of
whatever they did that night, and a fight broke out. My mothers shoulder was dislocated, and her
boyfriend was lacerated. I woke up the next morning to the police. A restraining order was sent
in place, and after this, I never lived with my mother ever again.

Hasta entonces nunca haban combatido; no obstante, no teman la muerte, y estimaban ms

la libertad de sus padres que sus propias vidas; s, sus madres les haban enseado que si no
dudaban, Dios los librara.
-

Alma, Capitulo 56, Versiculo 47

Living with my father, was a different world. He had food, he had treats. And every
Sunday he would go somewhere. He would take us to the pool, and out to eat. I liked it a lot. But
I missed my mother. My father did anything for us, but he showed love through play and action.
My mother however, told me she loved me, and would give me kisses. To me that was what love
was, and from my early childhood, to the age of adolescence, that is what I thought it was. As all
this happened, I continued to go to school. I went, I did all my homework, my friends never
changed, and my straight As stayed the same. My schooling and my life outside of school, to
me, never had to coexist. At least not until my father remarried.
Mindy Faye Young was her name. She was very white, blonde, and wore lots of make-up.
She had a sweet voice, but it could be learned very quickly that it could not be so sweet if one
opposed her. She also went somewhere every Sunday. When she lived with us, she took control.
She made me do chores, she made me read every day, she made me do math, she made me write,
and she made me study scriptures that my father would always read.
This is for your own good Eric Mindy would say. The funny thing is I hated her at the
time. I missed my mother. She meant everything to me, but she would tell me the same thing:
Es por tu bien. We stopped speaking Spanish, and our connection to Hispanic culture faded as
months with her went by. We started to go to the place where my dad went on Sundays. They

spoke of Jesus Christ, a man who loved everybody and who had died for kids like me. Jesus
Christ was peculiar. He had apparently given me everything, including my body, my weaknesses,
and my problems. He had a dad too. I remember wondering if He called His dad Papi, like I did,
or if His mom was out and about. For the guys in suits never talked about His mom, like how my
family never talked about mine. I really wanted to know Jesus.
Missionaries came to my house every now and then telling me about Jesus, they even told
me about Him in Spanish. They then told me about someone else, Jose Smith, or Joseph Smith.
He restored the gospel that was lost, by finding plates buried a long time ago by a prophet old in
the Americas, by receiving the Priesthood by angels, and by receiving revelation from God
Himself about His plan. I learned a lot about Joseph, God and Jesus showed themselves to him
when he was 14. I remember wondering if they would ever show themselves to someone like me.
After months of talking with the missionaries they asked me if I wanted to be baptized into the
church. What was there to lose? I said yes. But they said they would ask me again in a week, for
being baptized came with a lot of responsibilities. Responsibilities I never knew I would have to
uphold.
I was submersed inside a world of a higher law, of change, understanding, obedience, and
righteousness. My father now trusted me with family secrets, knowledge, and even his own
insights of the world. I progressed through school. Still doing well, being a top student, needless
to say my education changed. Those around me started getting in to drugs, violence, immorality,
and more. What I learned through my peers was no longer about cool family members, older
siblings, video games, and who could run fast. But now I was learning about media, sexuality,
independence, individuality, and desire. The education I was gaining through my environment
was changing quickly. And so were my own values, and morals.

My church greatly emphasized scripture study. My favorite was Doctrine & Covenants:
Section 122, verses five through nine. It read of the revelation the Savior gave Joseph Smith
when he was imprisoned in Missouri. The scripture taught that everything was for your own
good. Every trial was to refine you into the person you need to become. My childhood was
dangerous, hard, and filled with a lot of emotion, my lack of affection from parents, their lack of
effort to be truly involved in my life, my loneliness, my efforts to be righteous and think
completely different in my mind.
By this time both my parents had remarried establishing themselves without the other,
and forming entirely different lives. I visited my mother often, and she taught me about
individuality and living for the things that would make me happy. Mother taught me that I didnt
necessarily need religion or education to be happy and amazing. My father on the other hand
taught that religion was everything, my stepmother taught that disobedience meant failure, and
that without faith, I would fade into nothing. I was taught on both ends of the spectrum. My
father taught me one primary idea. One day he sat me down to talk. He told me of his own
hardships, but he said something so vital, which made my life better and/or worse.
You have complete control, you control how you feel. If you are sad, you are choosing
that emotion. My father said. I could see the intense solemnity on his face, and hear it in his
voice. My mother years later told me her central advice, she told me on my 16th birthday.
The Lord wants you to be happy just as much as you do. My mother said. At that
moment, the love I always knew she had for me came in to full recognition that day. To this day,
and forever, my mother is the most sacred, and loved person in my life

Both families adopted the culture of the mother. So my mothers family maintained the
Spanish language and even moved to Mexico. My fathers family left the culture, abandoned the
language, and assimilated into Mormon-American culture. However I chose to express myself at
school as completely devoted to religion, as a person who strove to live a higher standard, and as
Mexican. Going to public school made it easy, they taught to stand out, be greater than those
around you, achieve for greatness, and to be morally clean. I could do all those things and did all
those things. My education dramatically changed when I started to attend AMES.
AMES brought kids from a variety of incomes, religions, geography, and culture together.
The teaching seemed to be very liberal as well, very anti-authority. They taught to challenge the
modern standards; they blurred the lines of right and wrong, and even promoted challenging your
own standards. The idea that you shouldnt always believe what you think. My surroundings
were so very different. At the public schools, I was at the top morally, in intelligence, and in
wisdom. I was the ideal student. The children who were bad, who did drugs, who were
immoral, and disobedient were punished and disdained. They were told they were bad people.
I was told I was a good person. However, at AMES, nothing of what I believed in, what I
thought, or what I was told mattered to no one, and proved to nobody that I was a good person.
Good was subjective at AMES. If anything, more moments occurred where I was labeled or
implied as the wrong person for my beliefs, instead of the expected opposite.

And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of
death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against
thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements

combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth
wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be
for thy good.
-

Doctrine & Covenants, Section 122, Verse 7

In high school, I started to reevaluate myself, my life and my own experience. I started to
learn of other perspectives and really listen to those who opposed my views. At the same time,
my Sunday School grew more serious, along with my priesthood duties. But no matter what, I
was being convinced that maybe the LDS church wasnt as important to me as it was before. I
could live a happy life without it. My attitude about it started to degrade, but I let this transition
of mentality happen in secret. No one needed to know. The transition continued for a while but
then ceased when my brother started to prepare for a mission. I could see him from a far, so
focused, so enlightened, so ready. Then he actually left, leaving a hint of legacy behind for me. I
reluctantly accepted it, but then it snowballed into something much bigger than me.
I became more and more knowledgeable about the Gospel, I strived to know it,
understand it, and to become it. I often ran in to arguments with those around me who I cared
about, and I disregarded the negative opinions of others. There was a difference in people who
wanted to learn about me, and those who wanted to mock me, and put me down. I attended
Seminary ever since I was a freshman, but now it was magnified for me, a place of peace, and
rest from constantly defending my views to others. I became a cornerstone of faith to many
people.

Vosotros sois la luz del mundo; una ciudad asentada sobre un monte no se puede esconder. Ni
se enciende una vela y se pone debajo de un almud, sino sobre el candelero, y alumbra a todos
los que estn en casa. As alumbre vuestra luz delante de los hombres, para que vean vuestras
buenas obras y glorifiquen a vuestro Padre que est en los cielos.
-

San Mateo, Capitulo 5, Versiculos 14-16

My race never really made my life challenging. I was always around people of my
background, never was really racial profiled and always mistaken for half-white which could be
good or bad depending on how I saw it. However, being in the area I lived in, I attended failing
schools, and a lot of my friends ended up making mistakes that society could easily label them as
failures. I was very fortunate to attend and still attend the Academy of Math, Engineering, and
Science, for it gave me opportunities and advantages that I would have ever received elsewhere.
Being male, I never experienced the inequality of being a female, nor will I ever. But being LDS
is where all my problems at school or outside my home occurred. In the realm of faith, is where
all my battles were fought. All the conflicts in my family were between differences in views,
thinking, and feeling. We all had faith for different things, but the thing that kept all of my
families tied to me was we all had faith in something. We all came to the conclusion that life was
for us, we struggle to be refined. There had to be opposition in all things, so we had faith in
better things. We were: my mother, my stepfather, my father, my stepmother, my brother, and
I.
I shunned my own shortcomings and problems as a child. I was taught that I had
complete control of how I felt. If I felt sad, it was because I was choosing that emotion. I was

taught to solve my own problems, and if something was wrong, you endure the problem and
become more resilient. The liberal education I was taught outside of my home at an older age
was that I should express my feelings not just to my friends, but to the public. If there is a
massive problem, I should fight to stop it. I should endure the difficulty of the battle, not the
difficulty of dealing with it. My life was always black and white. It was religion, or no religion,
Hispanic culture or American culture, tradition or progression, faith or fear. I always was battling
between two, but I am learning that I can be a mix. That sometimes life requires an arsenal of
values, beliefs, and thoughts to progress and provide for yourself. I have chosen religion, and I
have chosen faith. But that does not close my doors to other things. I use it to my advantage. I
take what is right and apply to my life and my interactions hoping it can benefit others.
Education is to learn something, understand that something, apply that something, and
pass it on. I must pass on my faith, so I will serve a mission. But I cannot force anyone to
convert, nor can I convince anyone that it is right. But I can tell others and those around me the
good things it has done for me and the great things it has to offer. I am still learning about my
faith, understanding it, and applying it. I have realized that school and religion are the same in a
very significant way. You must apply both consistently to hone your talents, your mind, and your
identity (if you choose religion is for you). The cycle of education could stop with me, I could
refuse to not pass on what I learn to anyone, but that is selfish. I have come to the conclusion that
it is my obligation to pass on what I have learned through my life and my faith. Knowledge is
meant to be shared, and to be discussed. Not to be confined or isolated.
Eventually my mother and my stepfather became active in the LDS church, and others
like them that I knew did as well. Faith is difficult; believing in something one cannot see is not
easy, and living lifestyles not natural to standard person can be hard. I have been called blind,

close-minded, and foolish because of my faith. But I always saw faith as the nobler thing. It is
easy to only believe what can be proven, to be skeptical. The world teaches that the skeptic is
intelligent and clever, but in my experience skepticism only ever leaves me with unanswered
questions and loneliness. Faith brings hope, not just in the LDS religion, but in any. Faith gives
purpose and light to the lives of anyone who has it.

Therefore, hold on thy way, and the priesthood shall remain with thee; for their bounds are set,
they cannot pass. Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear
not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever.
-

Doctrine & Covenants, Section 122, Verse 9.