As a little girl growing up in Union City, New Jersey, I often found myself asking my dad questions like, “Daddy, why did that person ask you for money?” or “Daddy, why is that man sleeping on the sidewalk?” He would typically reply, “Because he doesn’t have a home, sweetheart,” or “Because they don’t have money.” My six-year-old mind struggled to comprehend how someone could not have a home or money. At the time, my father tried to protect me from the harsh realities of homelessness; however, as I grew older, I realized homelessness wasn't just an occasional sight on the streets but a persistent problem that became impossible to ignore. Growing up so close to New York City, homelessness was something I witnessed often, and it became an issue that became increasingly important to me as I matured. During my senior year of high school, I took an AP Psychology class and became deeply interested in mental health diagnoses and psychological disorders. As I transitioned into college at the University of Georgia, my advisor suggested that I take an introductory social work class during my first semester. Through this course, I began to recognize the strong connection between mental illness and underserved communities, particularly the homeless community. Many people experiencing homelessness also struggle with untreated mental illness, trauma, and limited access to support and resources. This realization inspired me to combine my passion for mental health with my desire to help others in underserved communities. Throughout my first year, I became involved with The Backpack Project and Bigger Vision in Athens, Georgia. Both organizations work to combat homelessness and support vulnerable populations within the Athens community. The Backpack Project distributes essential items to individuals experiencing homelessness in Athens and surrounding areas, while Bigger Vision provides shelter, meals, and other necessities for those in need. Volunteering with Bigger Vision especially allowed me to build relationships with many of the same individuals each week, which not only strengthened my drive to help others, but also helped me grow as a person. Through volunteering, I have seen firsthand how even a few hours of our time can make a meaningful impact on someone’s life. Over time, I began remembering small details about the individuals I regularly interacted with, such as their favorite book or the snacks they liked most from the pantry. Although they were small gestures, I realized how meaningful it is for someone to feel remembered and valued. The gratitude, kindness, and smiles I receive from the individuals I work with continually remind me why this work is so important and reinforce my desire to dedicate my career to helping others Ultimately, I believe safe housing and mental healthcare are basic human rights. Yet homelessness and mental illness are still highly stigmatized issues that society often tries to ignore or conceal. However, neglecting these issues or treating them as taboo subjects only allows them to worsen and causes more individuals to fall through the cracks. Dedicating my career to nonprofit work is important to me because I believe nonprofit organizations play a valuable role in addressing the root causes of these problems and solving them through tangible support. Through a career in social work, I hope to help make mental health and homelessness resources more accessible and create environments where individuals can feel seen and valued.

“La ropa sucia se lava en casa.” Dirty clothes are washed at home, or in other words, “don’t air your dirty laundry in public.” Growing up in a Hispanic household where mental health was often taboo and overlooked, I learned to keep my struggles to myself. At thirteen years old, I began experiencing persistent sadness and loneliness that I could not explain. As I entered high school, those feelings never subsided. Growing up with a single mother, I watched her work tirelessly for us while carrying herself with constant strength. Because she rarely expressed emotion, I convinced myself that struggling mentally made me weak, when in reality, I know now that it did not. At the time, however, I did not want to burden her with problems she could not fix, especially when she already carried so much stress of her own. Professional help also never felt like an option. In my family, therapy was often viewed as unnecessary or shameful, so I dismissed it without ever giving it a chance. Instead, I coped with my emotions in ways I am not proud of. Looking back, I realize I was simply trying to suppress feelings I did not know how to hold. It was during my sophomore year of high school that I discovered poetry. Writing quickly became an outlet for the emotions I had buried for years. With the encouragement of a wonderful English teacher, I learned how to transform those feelings into something meaningful. My poems were eventually published in Scribe, my school’s newspaper, giving me a sense of confidence and validation I had never experienced before. What once felt isolating became a source of healing and self-expression, and poetry remains one of my greatest passions today. My experiences with mental health also shaped the career path I hope to pursue. As a psychology and social work major at the University of Georgia, I want to help people who feel unseen and unheard, particularly within underserved communities. Mental health struggles are especially prevalent among individuals experiencing homelessness, yet they are often ignored or stigmatized. Through counseling and nonprofit work, I hope to help change that narrative. In college, I have sought opportunities to turn my experiences into action. Through the Backpack Project of Athens, I help provide essential goods to individuals experiencing homelessness. I am also involved in Vescent, a mental wellness program that supports young teenage girls. As a mentor, I encourage positive coping strategies, emotional expression, and healthy habit-building skills. Many of the girls I work with are around thirteen or fourteen years old, the same age I was when I felt most alone. Supporting these girls allows me not only to help others facing challenges similar to my own, but also to reflect on how far I have come in my own journey. Ultimately, my experiences with mental health have shaped nearly every part of who I am today. For years, shame convinced me that my struggles were something to hide, which only deepened my isolation and delayed my healing. Now, through mentorship, community service, and my future career in psychology and social work, I hope to be the kind of support I once needed for others. More than anything, I want to help create communities where people feel safe being honest about their mental health and know they do not have to struggle alone.

“One day, we’re going to be sitting on your front porch,” my mother told me the night before my high school graduation. At the time, I thought she was talking about a physical house—something she had never known, having spent her life living in apartments. But as I’ve grown older and witnessed her sacrifices, I’ve come to understand that my “front porch” meant more to her than a place to live. She was describing a future she never had the opportunity to pursue for herself. To me, being a first-generation college graduate means fulfilling that dream, not just for me, but even more so for her. As I watched my mother come home from long nights at work, with tired eyes and heavy shoulders, her love for me was so evident. She worked tirelessly, often without taking time for herself to rest, all to give me opportunities she never had. There were moments when I felt guilty, knowing how much she sacrificed for me, and I tried to ease that burden in small ways. But she never allowed me to carry that weight. Instead, when I shared those feelings with her, she would say, “Hija, it is every parent’s wish for their child to be better than they were.” As I continue my educational journey in college, that reminder pushes me to strive for excellence in my academics. Earning my first degree and continuing on to pursue my Master’s in Social Work is my way of saying thank you. It is my proof to her that her sacrifices were not in vain. And with that, pursuing higher education is a statement: that Latino/a students belong in higher education spaces and are capable of achieving excellence—a sentiment I believe is important to affirm. My desire to pursue a career focused on serving others stems from my mother’s heart and the love for others that she has so clearly modeled in my life. Throughout high school and college, I have sought opportunities to serve those around me, especially individuals in underrepresented and underserved communities. From volunteering at a soccer camp for children with mental and physical disabilities to serving as an executive member of Letters for Rose, where I built relationships with elders in our community homes, each experience was a blessing and a learning opportunity, guiding me to where I feel most called to serve. I found that sense of purpose when I began working with individuals experiencing homelessness. Through my involvement in the Backpack Project, a student-run organization dedicated to supporting the homeless in our community, as well as my time volunteering at Bigger Vision, I have had the opportunity to meet many different people from all walks of life. The stories I’ve heard and the exhaustion I’ve witnessed continuously remind me how blessed my mother and I are. Yet, at the same time, I have witnessed so much joy within these individuals despite the circumstances they face. They would share their favorite books, talk about meals they loved, and laugh with me, as if those hardships did not define them. Conversations like these led me to find my passion for working with individuals experiencing homelessness, and social work—a career that isn’t just about meeting needs, but about recognizing and appreciating the humanity in others. And so one day, as my mother and I sit on that front porch, with our Café Bustelo in hand, I hope she feels proud of me—knowing that investing in me was an investment in others, and that everything she gave, every sacrifice she made, was worth it.