Oswalcenit Pichardo - Reflection 2

Reflection on the Hialeah: Past, Present, and Future Presentations

When I first found out that our group presentations would be about Hialeah—its past, present, and future—I didn’t really know what to expect. I figured it would be mostly facts and timelines, the kind of information you find in a textbook or a quick Google search. But I was wrong. As each person presented, I found myself drawn into the story of Hialeah in a way I hadn’t expected. What I thought would be a boring list of dates turned out to be something way more personal, cultural, and real.

Starting with the past, I was genuinely surprised by how rich and interesting Hialeah’s history is. Before the presentations, I didn’t know that Hialeah used to be a farming and horse-racing town. I’d heard about the Hialeah Park Racetrack before, but I never realized how famous it once was—like, world-famous. People used to come from all over to watch the races and see the flamingos. It’s wild to think that a place that now feels so everyday and normal was once a glamorous destination. Learning that the city started out as a prairie and was once filled with cow pastures and open land felt unreal. I honestly had a hard time imagining Hialeah without the traffic, strip malls, and Cuban bakeries on every corner. But that contrast made me appreciate just how much the city has changed.

What really hit me, though, was how Hialeah transformed in the mid-1900s with the arrival of so many Cuban immigrants. That part of the presentation stood out the most to me, especially because I’ve grown up around Cuban culture my whole life but never really stopped to think about how it all started. The presenters talked about how the city became a home away from home for so many people fleeing the Cuban Revolution. They built businesses, raised families, and created a community that still defines the city today. I thought it was powerful how someone said, “Hialeah didn’t just change—it became a symbol of survival.” That line stuck with me. It made me think of my own family, and how so many of us have roots that trace back to people just trying to build a better life.

Moving into the present, things got even more relatable. It was interesting to hear people talk about what it’s like to live in Hialeah now—from the good to the not-so-great. There’s something comforting about how everyone kind of knows everyone here. The sense of community is strong. People look out for each other. You go to the bakery and run into your old teacher. Your mechanic is also your cousin’s best friend. It’s all connected. But at the same time, the presentations didn’t shy away from the real issues. People brought up the cost of living, how hard it is to find good-paying jobs, and how traffic and infrastructure haven't kept up with how much the city has grown. One presenter made a joke about “Hialeah time,” meaning that people are always running late because of how crazy the streets are. Everyone laughed, but it was true.

There was also a part about language that really made me think. Hialeah is known for being one of the most Spanish-speaking cities in the United States. That’s something I’ve always thought was cool, but one of the presenters brought up how that can also create a divide—like, it can feel hard for outsiders to connect or for newer generations to hold onto their roots. It made me think about how I speak Spanish with my grandparents but mostly English with my friends, and how language plays such a big role in shaping identity. That presentation really made me reflect on the balance between honoring culture and adapting to new environments.

When we got to the future of Hialeah, that’s where the conversations really opened up. People had so many ideas, from creating more parks and green spaces to improving public transportation, and even turning old buildings into art spaces or cultural centers. What I appreciated the most was how hopeful and creative everyone was. Instead of just complaining about what’s wrong, people were imagining how to make it better. One person mentioned the potential for tech startups and small businesses to thrive here, especially if there were more support from local government. Another talked about the need for affordable housing so that the people who grew up in Hialeah don’t get pushed out as it develops. There was even a suggestion to bring back some of the history—like restoring the racetrack or honoring old landmarks—while still moving forward with modern ideas.

What I liked about these presentations was that they didn’t feel like schoolwork. They felt like conversations that mattered. Everyone brought their own experiences, and that made each perspective unique. You could tell when someone was really passionate about what they were saying, whether it was pride in their community or frustration with the challenges. It didn’t feel fake or forced. It felt like we were all taking a closer look at the city we call home, and trying to understand it better—not just as a place on a map, but as something alive and growing.

Personally, I walked away from the presentations with a new respect for Hialeah. I’ll admit that sometimes I’ve taken it for granted. It’s easy to complain about what it lacks or what’s broken, especially when you’re young and thinking about the future. But hearing everyone talk made me realize how much heart this city has. It’s not perfect, but it has history, culture, and resilience. And more than anything, it has people who care—people who want to see it thrive.

To be honest, I didn’t expect to enjoy these presentations as much as I did. I thought I’d just sit there and zone out, but instead I found myself engaged, inspired, and even a little emotional at times. Whether it was learning about the old days, reflecting on what it means to live here now, or imagining what Hialeah could be, it all came together in a way that felt meaningful.

If anything, I think these presentations reminded me that every place has a story—and it’s up to us to listen, learn from it, and help write the next chapter.