An immigrant finds belonging in Rotary
Far from home and seriously injured, a young man finds comfort and renewed purpose among his Rotary family
“¿Dónde estoy?” I thought, returning to the world, all white light, blurs of color, and muffled sound. “Where am I?” My lips were so dry. “¡Agua! ¡Agua!,” I cried, asking for water. I struggled to get up, but my mother told me to lie still. I was in the hospital. Those blurs of color turned out to be balloons. There had been an accident, my Jeep versus a tree. The tree won. I’d been in a coma for two weeks.
I tried to think back. I remember driving my car after a long shift at the restaurant where I worked. Then nothing: no crash, no tree, no ambulance. No three major surgeries to drill a hole in my skull to reduce pressure on my brain and to repair my broken left hip and right clavicle. The doctors said that I was lucky to be in a coma for only two weeks. It could have been months. I might never have woken up.
Illustration by Hokyoung Kim
My life started coming back in patches. My name is Andrés Briceño. I was born in Venezuela, though today I live in Texas. I came to this country in November 2021 when I was 23 years old. I moved to The Woodlands, north of Houston, because an aunt and some of my cousins live here. But I also belonged to a larger, international family — Rotary — which I first joined when I was living in Venezuela as a member of both the Rotary Club of Las Delicias and the Rotaract Club of Las Delicias Leone Rossi.
When something is wrong, I want to change it. My dream was to see my country free. But freeing a country is not easy. When you defend freedom in a dictatorship, you become a target. Ultimately I had to leave.
A new club
After I arrived in Texas, I reached out to the Rotary Club of The Woodlands. It changed my experience as an immigrant. One month after my arrival in the United States, I attended the club’s Christmas party. I was far from Venezuela, yet the club’s members made me feel like I was home, that I belonged in their community. That was so valuable: being accepted, feeling like I belonged.
My accident was on 25 June 2023. The day before was a Saturday. It had been only three days since the Rotaract Club of The Woodlands, which I was instrumental in establishing, was officially chartered. I woke up very early. It was a hot summer day. Our club was helping the Woodlands Rotary club with an event for youth. It was like a scavenger hunt, with clues hidden here and there. The kids had fun, running around looking for them. That took most of the morning, and I went straight from there to work. Saturday is the busiest day of the week at the restaurant, and it was several hours after midnight when I was driving home. Five minutes from my aunt’s house, the accident occurred.
I spent 33 days in the hospital. For the first week, they didn’t know if I was going to survive. My mother never gave up hope — and the members of Rotary were there all the time for my mom, keeping her company and supporting her. Kay Boehm-Fannin, the 2023-24 president of the Rotary Club of The Woodlands, visited me in the hospital every day. Every single day, even though I wasn’t awake and didn’t know she was there. Other Rotary members would line up in the lobby, waiting for their turn to see me.
When I woke up, one of the nurses asked me, “Are you famous?” I said no, not yet. Why? She said, “You have so many visitors, all the people coming every day. That’s not normal.” I felt so loved.
As did my mother. My dear friend Dr. Lucian Rivela, a member of the Woodlands Rotary club, frequently checked in with my doctors and shared any updates about my status with my anxious mother, who doesn’t speak English. The day I awoke from my coma was my mother’s birthday, and my Rotary family held a party for her in the ICU waiting room.
Four days after being discharged from the hospital, I attended a Rotary After Hours event and, two days after that, a meeting of the Woodlands Rotary club. I couldn’t wait any longer to be back among my Rotary family. I felt an urgent need to thank them. Which I did, tearfully.
The road to recovery
Right away I had to face the changes in the little things we take for granted. Things like using the bathroom or climbing the stairs — sitting on the steps and using my arms rather than my legs — to get to my room in my aunt’s two-story house.
I rushed too quickly into trying to get my life back. I didn’t realize the magnitude of what had happened to me. I learned that sometimes you can’t rush things. You have to take it one step at a time.
And every step I took, Rotary was there for me — even before I could actually take steps. I was in a wheelchair for months. My Rotary family provided the wheelchair, and the walker and the cane that followed. They even hosted a fundraiser to help me cover my physical therapy costs as I learned to walk again.
During my recovery, I had two wonderful therapists, Stephanie and David, who worked with me at a Houston-area clinic. Stephanie was an Interactor in high school and later spent a year studying in England as a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar. What she experienced over that year inspired her to come back to the United States and earn a doctorate in physical therapy.
Stephanie and I became friends thanks to that Rotary connection, and I invited her to accompany me to the elegant gala thrown in February 2024 by the Rotary Club of The Woodlands. The day of the gala, I decided I no longer needed my cane and left it at home. For the first time in months, I was walking freely. And that night at the gala, surrounded by my Rotary family, Stephanie and I danced.
Feeling as if I’d received a second chance at life, I returned to college this year. I’m studying political science and eventually hope to get a master’s in economics. I’m preparing myself to return to Venezuela and help rebuild my home country. Until then, I’m looking for work with a nonprofit here in the United States. My dream job would be helping others — just as I’ve tried to do ever since I have belonged to Rotary.
Andrés Briceño is a founding member and president of the Rotaract Club of The Woodlands in Texas.
This story originally appeared in the April 2025 issue of Rotary magazine.