FEBRUARY 20, 2026 ENTREPRENEURSHIP Always look on the bright side of life My life as a wanderer has been — and still is — difficult. Even with everything I have learned and achieved, I cannot say I feel safe, and certainly not comfortable. What I can say is that I have experienced moments of complete happiness. I have had the privilege of discovering incredible places such as Chicago, Detroit, Ann Arbor, New York City and Poughkeepsie. I have witnessed wonders, built loyal and caring friendships, and lived some of the wildest adventures imaginable. My arrival in Chicago was uncommon — or at least unexpected. People helped me without my asking. They offered rides, information, food, weed and something even more valuable: genuine American kindness. I heard the phrase “I’ve got your back” many times, and they truly meant it. For two days, I didn’t even touch my wallet. That generosity mattered deeply to me, especially because I had just left my home country behind. I was vulnerable, uncertain — and yet, supported. From Chicago, my destination was Fenton, Mich. I took a bus to Detroit, and during the ride, memories surfaced from the many times I had visited Ann Arbor back in 1995, when I lived in Fenton. I knew Ann Arbor was home to the University of Michigan, and the map showed that stopping there could save time on my way north. More than that, I wanted to explore. I had no schedule, no commitments. When I stepped off the bus at the train station, I was immediately enchanted. Walking through the streets, I was struck by the beauty of the city and the warmth of its people. Ann Arbor felt almost magical — like something out of a fairy tale — and it gifted me countless memorable moments. I was welcomed so deeply that, as a friend once said, “You were looking for a home, and you found one.” And it was true. That is why I call Ann Arbor my American hometown. Instead of spending just a couple of weeks in Fenton on my way to New York, I ended up staying in Michigan for almost a year. I’ve returned twice since then. If I had to highlight the best moments, I would mention the Huron River, the Law School that looks like Hogwarts, the Groundcover News office at Bethlehem United Church of Christ, the breakfast church at Saint Andrew’s, the Starbucks at Liberty and State (my favorite corner), long bike rides and, above all, the dear friends I made along the way. Detroit, unfortunately, I never had the chance to know as well as I wanted. I was usually just passing through, often in a hurry — still long enough to get into trouble. There’s so much I want to experience there: a Lions game, County caught my attention — its natural beauty, its opportunities. What was meant to be a weekend became a new chapter. I settled in Poughkeepsie, and I’ve been living here ever since. This place isn’t perfect, but it’s the PEDRO CAMPOS Groundcover vendor No. 652 Greek Town, cross to Canada, the city itself. In March, I’ll finally have the chance. I’m heading to Detroit for a concert. We’ll see how it goes. New York City, on the other hand, gave me time and intensity. The city is fascinating, with layers of architectural history stamped onto its buildings and a deeply multicultural, cosmopolitan soul, especially in Manhattan. I’ve been everywhere. I can honestly say Manhattan is my playground, and Brooklyn is my hood. New York hits you hard, like a slap in the face. Or, as the song says, “Amerimacka, is like licking honey off of a knife.” Sweet, dangerously so. New York is not for everyone. You can arrive easily, but staying is another story. Belonging is even harder. I’ve tried three times already, and three times the city spun me out, dizzy and exhausted. I had to escape before losing my sanity — twice back to Michigan, and now to Poughkeepsie. I needed distance from the noise, the rush, the violence, the constant hustle. I needed to heal, recover and rehabilitate — to bite the Big Apple. And I will. I’m not afraid. All things considered, I think I’m doing well. I survived the winter, stayed safe and stayed busy. This time, I’m not starting from scratch. I have my belongings: good clothes, gear, phones, cameras, shoes, a bike — even books and board games. I love them. And most importantly, my application for permanent housing has been approved. I’m now on the waiting list for an apartment in Manhattan, hopefully before my birthday in July. Last year, at the end of October, after leaving the shelter and wandering for a month, I headed north from the city along an ancient Native American trail that begins on Broadway and stretches all the way to Albany and beyond. I didn’t know where I was going or how long I would be gone. I had my tent, my courage, and not enough clothes for the cold that was coming. I rode my bike forty miles north from the Bronx, then took the train to the last stop. My plan was simple: camp at Black Creek Park under the full moon, regroup and return. But as I researched the Hudson River region, Dutchess safest I’ve felt since being repatriated. For the first time in a long while, I found peace of mind in a positive environment. I’ve been productive, too. I recently wrote six new poems to submit to “The New Yorker.” I also wrote my first book — a cosmic fable for children, Sophie Star Adventure — as a gift for my seven-year-old niece Thais. One of my poems was selected by PoetTreeTown to be printed and displayed at the Ann Arbor downtown library. One way or another, I made it into the library — and that is a great honor. To see my words recognized, written in English, moves me deeply. From the streets to the university, from Ann Arbor to Ypsilanti, people read my work. They understand me — or at least try. I may come on strong sometimes, but always with respect. I recognize the responsibility that comes with being heard, and for that, I am grateful. As for New York City — I won’t give up. Actually, I’m just getting started. Many of my desires have already been fulfilled: walking around Daredevil’s neighborhood, Hell’s Kitchen, attending Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, playing chess at Union Square, visiting the Statue of Liberty, standing in Times Square. I’ve ridden my bike around Central Park, Broadway, Columbia and Harlem. I’ve been to a couple of plays, a rooftop party and an underground party. I’ve eaten great food, talked to people and improved my English. I visited the Museum of Natural History and even had one of my poems printed in a local newspaper called Street Voices. I’m working hard, preparing myself for the fourth round. In the middle of the civil war we seem to be living through today in our country, I’ve managed to keep moving forward — focusing, healing confirming my purpose. When the snow melts, I plan to finally put my ideas into practice: negotiating my writing, my art. I’ve chosen a spot along the westbound trail that will be my corner. In the summer, I’ll get a business license in Beacon, New York, a cultural and tourist hub just an hour from NYC in order to sell my writing and art. I’m excited to explore these parks by bicycle, swim in rivers, climb mountains, chase waterfalls, meet people, get into a little trouble, smoke my see BRIGHT SIDE page 16 GROUNDCOVER NEWS 11
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