As a child growing up in Union City, New Jersey, I often asked my mother questions that she struggled to answer. Why was someone sleeping on a sidewalk? Why did people ask us for money? At six years old, I believed every problem had a simple solution. As I grew older, I realized that homelessness, poverty, and mental health challenges are often interconnected and far more complex than I had imagined. At the time, my mother tried to protect me from seeing the harsh realities of homelessness; however, as I grew older, its persistence became impossible to ignore. Those early conversations became the first bricks in the foundation of the future I hope to build: a career dedicated to providing stability and security to others. As I continue my educational journey, I am laying additional bricks through both academic and hands-on experiences. Through my volunteer work with The Backpack Project and Bigger Vision, I am developing my ability to connect with underserved populations while gaining a deeper understanding of the challenges many individuals face. These experiences have strengthened my commitment to social work and reinforced my desire to serve those experiencing homelessness. After earning my bachelor's degree, I plan to pursue a Master of Social Work to deepen my understanding of the field and strengthen my ability to support vulnerable populations. Following graduate school, I hope to spend several years working directly in mental health and homelessness services. These experiences will allow me to explore where I can make the greatest impact while building the clinical skills, knowledge, and perspective necessary for my long-term goals. My ultimate goal is to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and establish my own private practice. Through this practice, I hope to provide counseling services to individuals experiencing homelessness and struggling with mental health concerns. I believe that homelessness is often connected to deeper systemic issues, including untreated mental illness, stigma, and a lack of accessible support systems. When adequate resources are unavailable, many individuals fall through the cracks and are unable to receive the help they need. That is why I envision building a practice that goes beyond traditional counseling by connecting clients with housing resources, mental health services, and community support networks. By pursuing a minor in business alongside my social work education, I am gaining the knowledge necessary to turn this vision into reality and build a practice centered on service and impact. As a first-generation Latina student, becoming a business owner would be the realization of a dream that no one in my family has had the opportunity to pursue before. More importantly, it would allow me to create a space where individuals feel supported and empowered to build more stable futures for themselves. The curiosity and compassion sparked by my childhood questions became the first bricks in the foundation of the future I am building today, and I hope to continue laying those bricks through a career dedicated to helping others.

“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, this phrase was an unwritten law. I learned early on to keep my struggles entirely to myself, locking them away behind closed doors. At thirteen years old, I began experiencing a deep sadness and loneliness that I could not explain. It wasn't just a fleeting teenage phase; it was a persistent, hollow ache that, over time, drained me. As I entered high school, those feelings never subsided, but instead grew heavier. Growing up with a single mother, I watched her work tirelessly for us while carrying herself with constant strength. Because she rarely expressed vulnerability, I convinced myself that my mental health struggles were a sign of personal weakness. I chose silence because I didn’t want to burden her with internal problems she couldn't fix, especially when she already carried the immense weight of providing for our family. However, trying to protect my mother in this way took a heavy toll on our relationship. Hiding my pain ultimately created a barrier between us. Even though we were incredibly close, keeping my depression a secret meant I was shutting the person I cared about most completely out of my world. Professional help also never felt like an option. In my family, therapy was often viewed as unnecessary or shameful, so I dismissed it without a second thought. 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. The turning point began in my sophomore year of high school when I discovered poetry. Writing became a vital sanctuary for the emotions I had buried for years. With the encouragement of an exceptional 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. However, writing alone couldn't completely untangle years of repressed depression. Recognizing I needed more support, I took a terrifying but necessary step: I sought out online therapy. The digital aspect of it provided a sense of privacy and safety that allowed me to bypass the fear of family judgment. For the first time, in front of a screen, I began unpacking the heavy grief and anxiety I had carried alone. Therapy didn't lead to immediate healing, but it did teach me something of great value: the quiet power of human vulnerability. It taught me that vulnerability isn't a burden, but a bridge, ultimately transforming how I approached my relationship with my mother. With that realization, I finally found the courage to open up to her, replacing years of protective isolation with honest closeness. This intersection of personal suffering, healing, and professional support ultimately shaped the career path I have chosen to pursue. As a psychology and social work major at the University of Georgia, my goals are rooted in the very stigma I had to overcome. I want to help people who feel unseen and unheard, particularly within underserved communities. Just as cultural stigma forces many in the Hispanic community to suffer in silence, societal stigma causes unhoused populations to be routinely dehumanized, ignored, and left to feel entirely unseen. Society often reduces homelessness to a lack of physical shelter, ignoring the profound, untreated mental trauma, severe depression, and substance use disorders that lock people into cycles of vulnerability. My ultimate goal is to establish a private practice alongside a dedication to nonprofit work. Through this dual approach, I plan to focus on providing accessible, specialized counseling services directly to homeless populations using an integrated approach. By dedicating my career to underserved communities, I want to bridge the gap between clinical psychological care and real-world social work. Bringing mental health struggles out of stigmatized darkness is not just a professional goal for me—it is a deeply personal mission. By entering the field of mental health, my ultimate goal is to break the cycles of silence and stigma, because I believe that no one, regardless of their background or circumstances, should have to wash their heaviest laundry in isolation.

"When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly. They are like this because they cannot distinguish good from evil. But I have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and I have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own... None of them can hurt me." — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations. In this opening passage, Marcus Aurelius demonstrates the personal sovereignty that we possess over our own peace. We achieve mental resilience not by hiding from the flaws of others, but by acknowledging human faults and bracing ourselves with cautious grace and understanding towards others. As a perfectly blameless man hung on a cross, facing the height of human malice and evil, one of the most memorable and radical prayers was spoken into existence. In Luke 23:24, Jesus prays, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Jesus prayed this prayer, asking for forgiveness on behalf of men who displayed the worst kinds of evil done against him— a concept that my human mind still fails to fully comprehend. Centuries later, Marcus Aurelius, arrived at a strikingly parallel realization when he wrote that difficult people act poorly because "they cannot distinguish good from evil." As a Christian, my faith teaches me that striving to live like Jesus means extending grace precisely when it is hardest to do so. Looking closely at Aurelius’s words reveals that his Stoic philosophy offers a practical, psychological framework for practicing this very type of Christ-like perspective, providing a reliable path to peace in the face of offense. At first glance, Aurelius’s list of human faults—selfishness, arrogance, and dishonesty—reads like a deeply negative condemnation of the world, written from a position of self-righteous superiority. However, looking beneath the surface reveals the quiet power in reading human nature through a lens of preparation. This exercise mirrors how Jesus sees all of our flaws and human messiness, fully recognizing that we are broken sinners, yet choosing to love and walk with us anyway. For Aurelius, this morning reminder is a tool to eliminate impulsive offense rather than judge his peers. By carefully reading the predictable patterns of human brokenness at dawn, he removes the element of surprise, preparing his heart to respond with patient composure rather than retaliatory anger. "They are like this because they cannot distinguish good from evil". Understanding the word 'cannot' is the key to unpacking the deeper meaning of the text. Aurelius does not see difficult people as villains acting with clear-eyed malice, but as individuals suffering from a profound lack of moral clarity. This subtle distinction changes our entire internal response to harm, shifting us from anger to mercy. Just as Christ looked down from the cross and identified a spiritual blindness rather than pure evil, Aurelius suggests that looking beyond the surface of a person's behavior allows us to see their underlying brokenness. When we reframe the offensive behavior of others as an inability to see clearly rather than a desire to do harm, our natural instinct to defend ourselves turns into an instinct to understand. We would not be angry at a physically blind person for bumping into us; similarly, understanding human motives allows us to meet moral blindness with a greater sense of patience and grace. With that, this understanding does not minimize the real impact of difficult behavior, nor does it require discarding personal boundaries; rather, it ensures that while another person's chaos may disrupt our environment, it lacks the power to corrupt our character. On a personal level, as a future social worker preparing to serve individuals experiencing homelessness, this intersection of faith, philosophy, and textual analysis directly shapes my daily worldview and professional calling. My passion for mental health has taught me that individuals endure unimaginable hardships, and I recognize that I am inherently limited in my ability to fully comprehend the depth of another person's suffering. However, this text, synthesized with my faith, reconfigures my entire approach to interpersonal conflict. It serves as a reminder that those navigating housing instability may project defense mechanisms such as anger or dishonesty simply as tools for survival. Instead of reacting with judgment or frustration, this perspective allows me to look past surface behaviors and view them through a Christ-like lens—as broken individuals who possess inherent dignity and remain infinitely worthy of grace. A key concept in social work is meeting clients exactly where they are, and this philosophy provides the framework to do so. While I cannot control the trauma or systemic hardships a client brings into a space, I retain absolute control over my own heart. By practicing this deeper level of analysis, I can preserve my capacity for empathy and remain a calm, steady source of support. In the context of learning, Aurelius’s approach perfectly matches the practice of close reading itself. Deeply engaging with a text requires us to look past the surface—to not just notice a harsh tone or a confusing phrase, but to ask why it is there. Just as Aurelius looks beneath frustrating behavior to find a deeper lack of understanding, a close reader looks beneath the explicit words on a page to find the real human needs driving the writer. Ultimately, Aurelius’s assertion shows that close reading is not just an academic exercise for the classroom, but a vital tool for cultivating a Christ-like attitude in an imperfect world. It reminds us that protecting our inner character requires an active, deliberate interpretation of the world around us. By slowing down to read between the lines of human behavior, we learn to acknowledge human flaws while still withholding condemnation. We can choose to respond to malice with understanding, anchoring our peace not in how others treat us, but in our enduring commitment to extend the same grace we have been given.

“One day, we’re going to be sitting on your front porch,” my mother told me the morning of 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—one that I am determined to achieve for both of us. As a first-generation college student and proud Latina, my pursuit of higher education has never been solely about personal success. It is rooted in my single mother's sacrifices, my values, and a deep desire to honor the resilience of the generations who came before me. My academic journey wasn't always the easiest; however, I am eternally grateful for the resilience it has taught me. As the only child of a single mother who never had the opportunity to pursue higher education, I often found myself navigating my academic journey alone. When I struggled with my English homework, I couldn't always turn to my mother for academic help. Instead, I learned how to seek out resources, ask questions, and, most importantly, persevere. Throughout high school, I balanced academics with work, holding jobs since the age of fourteen. Later, I navigated the college application process independently, teaching myself how to research schools, complete applications, and pursue financial aid opportunities. Now, as a college student at the University of Georgia, I've discovered a passion that aligns with my values and long-term goals. After entering college as a Psychology major on the pre-med track, I enrolled in an introductory social work course that completely shifted my perspective. While I was drawn to psychology's focus on understanding human behavior, social work introduced me to something that resonated even more deeply: the opportunity to serve others. This realization inspired me to become more involved in my community. Through my involvement with The Backpack Project, a student-run organization dedicated to supporting individuals experiencing homelessness, I have had the opportunity to meet people from many different walks of life. The stories I have heard and the hardships I've witnessed continually remind me that not everyone has been afforded the stability that I have been fortunate enough to have. Yet, at the same time, I've witnessed so much joy within these individuals despite their circumstances. They would share their favorite books, talk about meals they loved, and laugh with me, as if those hardships did not define them. Their experiences strengthened my commitment to social work and affirmed my desire to advocate for underserved populations. In the future, I aspire to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and eventually open my own private practice. To prepare for that goal, I am pursuing a minor in business alongside my social work education, equipping myself with the knowledge necessary to successfully manage a practice. As a first-generation Latina student, becoming the first person in my family to own a business would be a meaningful milestone and a testament to the power of determination and the selfless sacrifices of my mother. “Hija, it is every parent's wish for their child to be better than they were.” Those words from my mother replay in my mind as I continue my academic journey. They remind me why I persevere through challenges, pursue my goals with determination, and strive to make her proud.

As a little girl growing up in Union City, New Jersey, I often found myself asking my mother questions like, “Mommy, why did that person ask you for money?” or “Mommy, why is that man sleeping on the sidewalk?” She 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 mother 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. I believe that being exposed to these issues at an early age led me to my passion and desire to help individuals experiencing homelessness early on. As the child of a single mother, I am especially grateful to have had as much opportunity and resources as I have been blessed with. Additionally, it has been a blessing in itself to have been raised by a woman like my mother, one that is both strong and compassionate. I believe the qualities she has instilled in me has been the foundation of my determination towards my goals and the kindness I hope to share with others. As a social work and business major, I hope to utilize my passions for service, mental health and homelessness to help others in an impactful way. After earning my bachelor’s degree, I plan to pursue a Master of Social Work degree. Following graduate school, I hope to gain hands-on experience through nonprofit work, community outreach programs, and counseling services. Ultimately, my goal is to build a career dedicated to empowering individuals and families experiencing homelessness, helping them access the resources, support, and opportunities needed to achieve stability. As a long-term goal, I plan to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and eventually establish my own private practice. Through this, I plan to focus on providing counseling services to homeless populations struggling with a variety of different mental health issues, such as addictions, depression or mental disorders. I believe that the connection between homelessness and untreated mental illness reveals a deeper problem that extends beyond a lack of housing alone. When there are not adequate resources and support systems in place to help these individuals, they can easily fall through the cracks and not get the help they need. Therefore, I want my future practice to be one that is fully integrated, combining housing services, mental health care, and community support systems so that each individual feels safe and more secure about their future. While I am no longer a six-year-old asking questions on a New Jersey street, the curiosity, compassion, and sense of responsibility that those questions sparked continue to guide me. Even though my questions as a child were simple, they led me to my passion and lifelong commitment of helping others. These values will continue to guide me, shaping not only the career I hope to have, but also the person I hope to become. A person that is able to see the complexity in others’ struggles and respond with compassion and practical support.

“One day, we’re going to be sitting on your front porch,” my mother told me the morning of 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 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. After earning my bachelor's degree, I plan to pursue a Master's in Social Work. After my Master’s, I plan to gain hands-on experience in the workforce for some time where I will be able to explore my interests in mental health and homelessness services. Through these experiences, I hope to discover where I can make the greatest impact while developing the skills necessary for my future career. My involvement in The Backpack Project, a student-run organization that supports the homeless in our community has led me to discover an area of social work I hope to dedicate myself to long-term. The stories I've heard and other's exhaustion that I've witnessed continuously reminds me that not everyone has the same stability I've been fortunate to experience. Yet, at the same time, I've witnessed so much joy within these individuals despite the circumstances they faced. 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 enjoying the humanity in others. For this reason, my long-term goal is to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and eventually establish my own private practice. By pursuing a minor in business alongside my social work education, I am building the skills and knowledge necessary to manage a practice of my own one day. Becoming the first college graduate and the first business owner in my family would be an incredible honor and a testament to the sacrifices my mother made to create opportunities for me. It is my hope that my future career will positively impact the lives of others as a source of mental health support, stability and compassion. And so one day, as my mother and I sit on my 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.

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.

“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.