Kim Moon Bae Underrepresented Students Scholarship

As a young Mexican girl living in Mexico, I had never questioned or recognized my identity and what that meant for me and those around me. For seven years, I actively participated in my Mexican community and culture; engaging in school activities such as reciting the Mexican National Anthem and Pledge of Allegiance. Pledging my loyalty to my country, I signified myself as a valued member of my community. At home, my connection to my Mexicanidad was further enforced by my family. Living with my extended family, I experienced big birthday parties with children eagerly watching the colorful piñata’s candy spill, the feeling of a watery mouth as female family members prepared the tamales for Christmas Eve, and being memorized by the firework show during Mexico’s Independence Day. These moments, once part of my everyday life, have become cherished memories I long to relive. Moving to the United States at seven years old conditioned me to become hyper-aware of my identity’s complexity and how quickly I would feel out of place. My experiences and survival in the United States were determined by ethnicity, language, and immigration status. I arrived in the U.S. before the school year began, becoming the new student from Mexico, with no papers and no understanding of English. Returning home meant releasing the tears I held back during the school day. I would break down, frustrated by homework in a language I couldn’t yet speak. I had to grow up faster than my peers, sacrificing fun and playfulness for extra English practice often facilitated through my own means. Misleading narratives, such as “The American Dream” and “Freedom is America”, propagate notions of guaranteed success while disregarding the deeply rooted systematic racism present in the U.S., contributing to inequality. As a child, I lacked the vocabulary to articulate these issues, yet I was aware of the restrictions and stigmas that my identity carried in a country that centers Whiteness. This feeling of alienation was reinforced when a U.S. citizen, unaware of our legal status or ethnicity, told my family and me to “go back to Mexico”. As I grew older, my classmates would talk about getting jobs and hoping to vote in a few years–opportunities closed to undocumented people. I have been responsible for shaping my educational and professional path. In recent years, I have built a strong connection with the Street Dance community in Los Angeles. I have been training, sharing meals, traveling, and performing with a BIPOC dance community dedicated to preserving the essence of Street Dance. Alongside this community, I am embarking on my professional career as a dancer. As a dance major at UCLA, with the goal of double majoring in Chicanx Studies by my sophomore year, I am working toward becoming a professional dancer who represents the versatility the Latinx community holds. I aim to unite and empower my Latinx and undocumented communities by fostering community determination. I believe in the power of art to be more than entertainment but an avenue to creating change. This year marks my twelfth anniversary of living in the United States. As a member of an underrepresented minority population, my understanding and compassion for the diverse communities within the U.S. has deepened. Rather than confining myself to a singular path, my identity has become a source of expression for my passions and ambitions. I acknowledge that the differing parts of my identity contribute to communities of resilience and hope. I am confident that receiving this scholarship will enrich my journey and serve as a step toward a brighter future for my community.