I was around the age of 10 when I accompanied my mother to the doctor’s office. The doctor asked my mother if she could speak English, to which she responded with “No.” The doctor then asked her how long she had been in America, and my mother responded with “About 20 years,” and the doctor said, “Well, you need to learn English, it would make this a lot easier.” Even as a child, I questioned this exchange: why did it matter whether she could or could not speak English? I was translating, so why did it matter? I always translate for my parents wherever we go, jumping in when others can’t understand my parent’s English or when people look at them funny when they speak the little English they know. I grew up having the instinct of always helping my parents. Ever since I was young, I always spoke for my parents. I am their personal translator, and, at times, I felt like I was also their protector. As a little girl, I always feared being away from them because just the mere thought of them being apart from me, apart from my English, made me nervous. I feared the things others might say to them, phrases my parents wouldn’t be able to understand or respond to. Early on, as the first-born daughter of an immigrant family, I learned that minorities are expected to stay quiet. We are expected to let people do what they want towards us, but as I grew older, I realized that I have a voice for myself. And a voice that I can lend to other people who also face discrimination. My childhood experiences, in which I saw my parents belittled for speaking Spanish, made me want to become a human rights and social justice lawyer. I watched my parents roam “the land of equal opportunities” with fear because of discrimination. I realized that there is a certain prejudice people can have towards non-English speaking people. I want to be the voice of many people of color and immigrants. As a child, I didn’t know how to respond or react, but as I grew older, I understood the need to speak out against discrimination. I understood that some people feel like they don’t have the power to do so. I want to empower justice for minorities and people of color. I want to be the change for us in this world.

I have struggled with self-love, self-acceptance, mental health, and body positivity; I found comfort and inspiration in Korean Pop, also known as K-pop. Although it is a music genre originating from South Korea, it has managed to speak to many people beyond South Korea. In 5th grade, I was bullied, and, consequently, I grew to hate myself. I found BTS during that hard time. They say that you find BTS when you need them the most... Whoever it was that said that, was right. They inspired me to love myself even when people tried to bring me down. The songs BTS makes have lyrics that can mean so much to people. The lyrics from BTS’s song “Answer: Love Myself” resonate with me. “Yesterday's me, today's me, tomorrow's me. I'm learning how to love myself, I'm learning how to love myself, without exception, without leaving behind, everything is me.” It was inspirational to me: it made me think about how I’ll be with myself the longest. I have to learn to love and embrace myself even with all of my mistakes. Also in a BTS song called “Epiphany,” the lyrics say: “I’m the one I should love in this world. Shining me, precious soul of mine. I finally realized so I love me. Not so perfect, but so beautiful. I’m the one I should love.” It made me realize that even with all my imperfections, all my mistakes, everything “bad” there is about me, I need to see myself as valuable even with my perceived imperfections. The lyrics gave me confidence. BTS openly sings about topics that are taboo, especially in South Korea; BTS challenges the cultural ideals of perfection seen on social media and in the public eye. They bring awareness to issues such as mental health, racism, climate change, and so much more. They have also partnered with UNICEF to end violence against children. BTS has made an impact on my life but they have also made an impact on global culture. They have broken so many records; "most-viewed Youtube video in 24 hours, "most-streamed male group on Spotify," and "most-followed group on Instagram," and that's just to name a few. For me, BTS has boosted my self-confidence, and also shown me that it is okay not to be perfect; I can like myself and all my imperfections and mistakes. Their music has taught me and inspired me to be ambitious and to put myself and my goals first. I have seen them grow as an artist but I have also seen myself grow and heal as a person and their music has helped me a lot throughout that process.

I grew up in a low-income household, where we had to move a lot. We never had a house that was truly "ours." My family and I had to move a total of six times. We had to move into my aunt's house twice. Six people crammed into a three-bedroom house... My very own Barbie Dream House would be located here in Martinsburg, West Virginia. Where I have been living with my family for the last six years. The place that has slowly become home for my family and me. The place in which we have grown comfortable in. The house would have a large porch, with a swing where I could sit my mom. There would be a lot of windows with dark blue window side shutters decorating each of them. My cats could sit by each window to enjoy the sunlight that would creep in through the blinds. The house would be white with a dark blue door. The house would have a large fenced backyard, for my three dogs to run around in. It would have a pool, so my sister and I can play and heal our inner children. There would be so much space for my grandmother to plant as many flowers as she wants. And inside, the kitchen would be big with a lot of counter space so my sister could bake as many cakes as she would like. There would be a large window by the sink, where my mom could look out as she washes the dishes. My mom would be able to decorate as much as she wants. We would have a big living room. With an L-shaped couch where, my parents, my sister, the dogs, the cats, and I will all sit to watch our telenovelas. Where my sister and I would play karaoke while my parents were asleep. There would be a huge garage where my dad could store all of his tools. Where we would set up an at-home gym. My dad would be able to build my sister and me those window seats my sister and I have always wanted. In my room, I would be able to hang up as many posters as I would like, without having to fear my parents getting in trouble with the renter. I would be able to paint my walls that light lilac I have always wanted. But most importantly, my parents wouldn't have to worry about paying rent ever again. They would have the chance to finally breathe and not feel like they are drowning in bills. That is what my very own Barbie Dream House would look like. Those are the dreams of a young, Mexican girl that every time she watched Barbie in her dream house, she felt like having a house to call her own would never happen.

As an aspiring Lawyer, I enjoy defending people. I stand aside and see people's stories trying to get an understanding of where they are coming from and why they are doing what they are doing. I could talk about Attack on Titan endlessly. Especially, why Eren isn't the monster he is made to be. Eren is human after all, he has human emotions. Eren Yeager is seen as a monster. All because he fought for freedom and was willing to put everything on the line. He was willing to give up everything and anything, even the people he cared about. Eren's life was chosen for him, having no choice but to live the life that was forced upon him. Eren Yeager, a boy who promised to kill every Titan he comes across after seeing his hometown being brought down to ruins by Titans and having lost his mother to one right in front of his eyes. He fulfills his promise by joining the cadet corps and then choosing to join the survey corps, the ones who constantly risk their lives by going outside of the walls and killing the Titans, basically guaranteeing your death or at least seeing death firsthand constantly. He is eaten by a Titan after saving his friend, and then later turns into one himself, making people turn against him, imprisoning him, and calling him a monster. He clears his name and is put under the surveillance of Captain Levi. Later on, it is revealed that three people Eren considered his friends are titan shifters sent from Marley to Paradis Island to kill people and were also responsible for destroying the wall that protected Eren’s hometown. All Eren wants is to live without the fear of Titans controlling humankind. After having lost everything, he wants to save the world and by doing that, he kills the people that caused the damage. Imagine being forced behind walls by giant monsters, always living in constant fear, and losing your mom at the age of nine because of them. Then, suddenly becoming what you despise the most, seeing everyone around you die, and constantly having to fight to survive, of course, you would go mad. Eren becomes driven by his desire to make those who made him suffer, suffer as well. He becomes the very thing he has always hated. Eren's mentality is that his loved ones have the right to be free, they have the right to stop fighting to survive. Eren is not a villain and he is not evil. The world's cruelty made him take matters into his own hands. He was forced to do this, for himself, for his friends, and for the only people he has ever known. I can relate to Eren in many ways. I will always fight for what I think is right. Especially now, that the world has become cruel. I am Eren, fighting against Titans. The Titans being people that live with racism in their hearts. As a person of color, I have felt belittled and in danger in a nation where most people believe in white supremacy. I have lived in fear of going out, scared that my life and my family’s lives will be in danger. I will always fight for my safety, peace, and freedom. Not only for me but for my family and future generations. I hope that the world will be a better place for minorities, women, and people of color. A world with peace, freedom, and equality.

When I accompanied my mother to the doctor’s office, the doctor asked my mother if she could speak English, to which she responded with “No.” The doctor then asked her how long she had been in America, and my mother responded, “About 20 years,” and the doctor said, “Well, you need to learn English; it would make this a lot easier.” Even as a child, I questioned this exchange: why did it matter that she could or could not speak English? I was translating, so why did it matter? I always translate for my parents wherever we go, jumping in when others cannot understand my parent’s English or when people look at them funny when they speak the little English they know. I grew up having the instinct to always help my parents. Ever since I was young, I always spoke for my parents. I am their personal translator, and, at times, I felt like I was also their protector. As a little girl, I always feared being away from them because just the mere thought of them being apart from me, apart from my English, made me nervous. I feared the things others might say to them, phrases my parents would not be able to understand or respond to. The responsibilities given to me as a child have helped me become strong, learn how to push through struggles and question discriminatory practices. Early on, I learned that minorities are expected to stay quiet. We are expected to let people do what they want towards us, but as I grew older, I realized that I have a voice for myself. And a voice that I can lend to other people who also face discrimination. My childhood experiences, in which I saw my parents belittled for speaking Spanish, made me want to become an immigration lawyer. I watched my parents roam “the land of equal opportunities” with fear because of discrimination. I want to be the voice of many people of color and immigrants. As a child, I did not know how to respond or react to the discrimination my parents faced, but as I grew older, I understood the need to speak out against discrimination. I understood that some people feel like they do not have the power to do so. I want to empower justice for minorities and people of color. I want to defend them and I want to make sure that they know that they also have a voice.

My name is Aurora. My name comes from my grandmother, the mother of my mother. My Mexican grandmother, a strong woman, that raised five children on her own. A brave woman who immigrated to the United States in hopes of a better life. I’m proud to hold her strength and braveness in my name. My grandmother is a woman who fought for everything she has, who has stood up for herself, and who risked her life for a better future and for more opportunities. Her impact on my life is indescribable. At the age of 12, she left for Mexico and I felt like my world crumbled. She was my best friend and my number one supporter. Every accomplishment, every dream, every plan I had, she was the very first person to find out, to encourage me, and to congratulate me. My grandmother used to work as a landscaper at Shenandoah University. Every time she had a job there, she would come home and tell me "Un dia, vas a estudiar ahí," meaning "One day you will study there." I was around eight years old when she first said that to me and University seemed so far away. Almost ten years later, when I applied to Shenandoah University, I had her in mind. When I got accepted she was the first person I called. "Wow, lo lograste, estoy tan orgullosa de ti mi amor," which translates to "Wow, you did it, I am so proud of you my love." Then, I got the Presidential scholarship, the most prestigious scholarship offered there, I called her immediately. When I got into the Honors Program, I cried when I told her. When I competed at the Ethics Bowl Competition, I called her and told her all about it. When I had my first trial in Mock Trial, she was amazed. When I became an FYS Mentor and a Hornet Ambassador she was in complete awe of everything I have accomplished. When I was little, I saw how she came home exhausted. She came home with dirt on her jeans, her head hot from being under the sun for hours, and her hands dry and calloused from all of the dirt and plants she had to touch. I watched as she walked with tired legs. Seeing how hard she worked, motivated me to work equally as hard. Every word of encouragement, every compliment, and every single piece of advice she has given me, has pushed me to accomplish every single dream I have. During my first year at Shenandoah, Imposter Syndrome hit me hard. I felt like I didn't belong, I hadn't made many friends, and I felt like I didn't deserve to be there. I called my grandmother immediately and sobbed. "Eres tan inteligente, todo va a estar bien," "You are so intelligent, everything will be okay," those eight words were enough to help me feel better. I was able to get through it and I ended up being on the President's List and the Dean's List and just like always, I called her and told her and she was mesmerized. So for me, my grandmother, who I share a name with, is someone who has profoundly impacted my life and has made me realize my full potential. My grandmother was the first person to tell me that my name means “goddess of dawn.” Our name means “dawn,” the first appearance of light in the sky before sunrise. New beginnings, new starts, a new day. I will fight for new beginnings, for new starts, and continue to live and experience new days.

After a long day at school, eighth-grade me wanted nothing more than to go home and take a nap. When I arrived at the apartment complex I lived in, I walked as fast as I could to my apartment, but as soon as I was going up the stairs, my chest suddenly felt heavy, almost like I couldn’t breathe. I opened the door and I saw my family in the living room. They looked as pale as ghosts and my mom was crying. “Que pasó?” “What happened?” I asked. ICE had come to our apartment while I was at school. When my family told me that, it felt like my world stopped. I couldn’t believe what they had just told me. I was terrified. Was I going to be separated from my parents? Would we have to move to Mexico? What about high school? Would I be able to attend college? I had so many questions, but at the moment I was at a loss for words. I was angry, sad, terrified, and confused. My parents rushed to find an immigration lawyer and luckily, they were able to find an excellent one. It was a very long and draining process, It took almost five years. I watched as my parents lived with anxiety, scared of what might happen next. I watched as they walked into the courtroom with their heads down, terrified of the decision that would determine our future. The lawyer was able to cancel their deportation order and get them working permits. Recently, my parents got a very exciting call; they are residents now! In all honesty, this was a traumatic experience. An experience that no one should have to go through, but, due to this experience, I realized that I wanted to be an Immigration lawyer. As an aspiring Immigration lawyer, I want to be able to learn about other people’s experiences, especially people that have experienced discrimination, prejudice, or harmful stereotypes. I learned that minorities are expected to stay quiet. We are expected to let people do what they want towards us, but as I grew older, I realized that I have a voice for myself. And a voice that I can lend to other people who also face discrimination. My childhood experiences, in which I saw my parents belittled for speaking Spanish and not being “legal”, made me want to become an Immigration lawyer. I watched my parents roam “the land of equal opportunities” with fear because of discrimination. I want to be the voice of many people of color and of immigrants. As a child, I didn’t know how to respond or react, but as I grew older, I understood the need to speak out against discrimination. I understood that some people feel like they don’t have the power to do so. Currently, I am the Co-President of Estudiantes Unidos which is a group that helps give a voice to Hispanic and Latino students at my university. I am also an “FYS Mentor” and a goal I have is to be able to help other First-Generation students throughout their first year of university. I graduated from high school and now I am about to finish my first year of university. My next step is to further my academic career at law school, to later become an Immigration lawyer. I want to empower justice for immigrants, minorities, and people of color.

Growing up as the first person that spoke English in my family came with many jobs: filling out important paperwork, translating said paperwork, making calls, and helping my parents communicate with others. As I did those acts of service, I realized the way non-English speakers are treated. I navigated this world alongside my immigrant parents, watching how they were made small by people that held a higher education than them. I watched as they were belittled because they didn't know English, and I saw how they grew nervous whenever they tried their best to speak a completely different language. I was always taught to help those in need. Even as a little girl, with the little English that I knew, when my family and I went to the store and we saw someone struggling to understand English, I stepped in to help, trying the best I could, even if it made no sense. It wasn’t until I was around thirteen that I truly understood just how meaningful it was to help my people with communication. Coming to a place that is completely different than your native land is hard, and so is trying to learn a new language. My personal experiences made me want to be a human rights and social justice lawyer, making me attentive in diverse and collaborative dialogue. Along with my personal experiences, my English classes in high school, with all the readings and analysis, made me realize my interest in finding answers, giving my point of view, and learning how to discuss what I read and understood. In English classes, you can question the purpose of life, women’s roles in society, and the way in which they are viewed, as well as discuss real-world issues. English often created connections between academic topics and my real life: I always found a piece of me in each character. For as long as I can remember, English classes were the highlight of my day and the subject I was the best at. With an English major, you can do so much, despite what many people think. When I tell people that I am majoring in English, I am always able to predict what they’ll say, “You will have a hard time finding a job,” or “What will you even do with that?” But actually, there is so much to do with an English major! I could be an English teacher, a journalist, an editor, or in my case a lawyer. My plan is to continue my academic career at law school and then become a human rights and social justice lawyer.

Growing up as the first-born daughter in an immigrant family, I witnessed how my parents were treated in this foreign land. I navigated this world alongside them, and I watched how they were made small by people that held a higher education than them. I watched as they were belittled because they didn't know English, and I saw how they grew nervous whenever they tried their best to speak a completely different language. I watched as they worked hard to be able to provide for my sister and me, trying their best to make ends meet. My parents would always tell me "Estudia, para que les puedas dar todo lo que no les pudimos dar a ustedes, se lo puedan dar a sus hijos," which translates to "Study so that you can give your children everything we weren't able to give you." They told me to work hard so that I didn't have to work at a factory or a warehouse. When my parents came home from work, I could see their drained faces. I watched as they walked with heavy footsteps, exhausted from standing for seven hours. When I held their swollen hands, I felt their callouses. When I massaged their feet, they were swollen, aching, and tired. My heart ached for them. I always wished that there was something I could do to help them. Neither of my parents attended high school, then years later they immigrated to the United States of America in hopes of having a better life and in hopes of being able to give their future children a better life and more opportunities. They risked their lives for my sister and me. I am now 19 years old and thanks to them and to my hard work, I am attending Shenandoah University. I am an English and Spanish double major. I want to make my parents proud. I want to be able to accomplish my dream of becoming an immigration lawyer. I remember the look on my parent's faces when I graduated high school, it was as if they had just won the lottery. Now imagine the look on their faces when I graduate college and then when I graduate from law school. That is what keeps me going. I realized as a little girl that the best thing I could do for them was to go to school. Go to school so that one day, my parents won't have to work and they can finally rest. So that they can live peacefully, watching their daughter become everything she had ever wished for and everything they had fought so hard for.

I am the firstborn daughter in an immigrant family. I’ve grown up as a translator, a secretary, a chef, a housekeeper, and a spokeswoman. I’ve also had to live with the constant feeling of needing to be perfect. I've gained a new sense of maturity thanks to this and it has made me who I am today. I grew up translating paperwork for my parents. Translating at appointments forced me to set my social anxiety aside. Learning medical terms and work-related words from a young age. At the age of nine, I knew how to fill out the paperwork they give you at the doctor's when you're a new patient. I schedule appointments and keep track of them. I'm even a calendar. When I was 12, a lady from the doctor’s office told me “One day, you’ll be an amazing translator, maybe you could even work here.” My mom was very proud when they told me that, but only if she knew that sometimes, translating felt like a burden. Growing up in a Hispanic household, you typically grow up being taught that “If you can’t cook or clean, no one will want to marry you.” At the age of 11, I was taught how to “hold a broom properly.” I once told my mother’s friend that I hated cooking and that I just didn’t know how to cook, she responded with “Who will marry you? A man needs someone to cook for him and to keep the house clean.” I told her, “Then I just won’t marry anyone.” I’ve had multiple conversations with my parents on how this idea of a woman having to know how to cook and clean was an idealism that should be dead and now they understand that. Now that phrase I used to hear so often, got changed to “Then how will you survive when you live alone? You can’t spend your whole life eating fast food.” I’ve learned to cook and clean, to help out, not to gain experience so I can serve my future husband. My parents grew up in Mexico. They don’t know how to speak English, so people can sometimes be disrespectful and get frustrated easily with them. When they go out alone I always get that constant feeling of anxiousness. My head is often clouded with thoughts of "What if they can't understand what other people are saying?" "What if other people can't understand them?" "What if people are rude to them and they can't defend themselves?" Ever since I began understanding how cruel the world is towards non-American people, a permanent feeling of fear grew in me. I’ve grown scared of speaking Spanish in public places, scared that someone won’t like that and that they’ll pick a fight with me. Being the firstborn daughter in an immigrant family gives you a new perspective on responsibility and sometimes it feels as if you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. My parents didn’t attend college and they speak a completely different language. I had to figure everything out about University on my own. I grew up with resentment, but what I failed to realize was that this sense of responsibility would make me a mature and independent lady. I’ve learned skills that will be needed in the adult world, skills that will help me survive. Even though at first, I thought it had mentally destroyed me, it has empowered me, especially during times when the world isn’t at its best time. The responsibilities given to me at a young age have helped me be strong and push through.

Growing up as the first-born daughter in an immigrant family, I witnessed how my parents were treated in this foreign land. I navigated this world alongside them, and I watched how they were made small by people that held a higher education than them. I watched as they were belittled because they didn't know English, and I saw how they grew nervous whenever they tried their best to speak a completely different language. I watched as they worked hard to be able to provide for my sister and me, trying their best to make ends meet. When I accompanied my mother to the doctor’s office, the doctor asked my mother if she could speak English, to which she responded with “No.” The doctor then asked her how long she had been in America, and my mother responded with “About 20 years,” and the doctor said, “Well, you need to learn English, it would make this a lot easier.” Even as a child, I questioned this exchange: why did it matter that she could or could not speak English? I was translating, so why did it matter? My mother was never able to go to English classes because she was a stay-at-home mom and my sister was a very sickly child. My dad was never able to go either because he was always working. My parents would always tell me "Estudia, para que les puedas dar todo lo que no les pudimos dar a ustedes, se lo puedan dar a sus hijos," which translates to "Study so that you can give your children everything we weren't able to give you." They told me to work hard so that I didn't have to work at a factory or a warehouse. When my parents came home from work, I could see their drained faces. I watched as they walked with heavy footsteps, exhausted from standing for seven hours. When I held their swollen hands, I felt their callouses. When I massaged their feet, they were swollen, aching, and tired. My heart ached for them. I always wished that there was something I could do to help them. Neither of my parents attended high school and then years later they immigrated to the United States of America in hopes of having a better life and in hopes of being able to give their future children a better life and more opportunities. They risked their lives for my sister and me. I am now 18 years old and thanks to them and to my hard work, I will be attending Shenandoah University in the fall. I will be an English and Spanish double major with a minor in sociology. I want to make my parents proud and I want to be able to accomplish my dream of becoming an immigration lawyer. I remember the look on my parent's faces when I graduated high school, it was as if I had just won the lottery. Now imagine the look on their faces when I graduate college and then when I graduate from law school. That is what keeps me going. I realized as a little girl that the best thing I could do for them was to go to school. Go to school so that one day, my parents won't have to work and they can finally rest. So that they can live peacefully, watching their daughter become everything she had ever wished for and everything they had fought so hard for.

To me, the best thing that has ever happened to me will always be when I rescued my dog Abi. On October 31, 2013, we rescued Abi from our local SPCA. They had told us that the litter of five puppies was found in a trash can, most likely abandoned. My heart broke. Abi was the only girl out of a litter of five puppies. I remember seeing her for the first time. Her tail was wagging and her eyes were full of hope as she awaited to be chosen. We immediately picked her. We were taken to a room to play with her, and she instantly ran up to me. She was so excited. When we finally took her home, I showed her every single room in the house. This was her forever home now. From now on, it will always be Abi and I, next to each other, and figuring life out together. When I was around ten years old, I was getting bullied at school. It was a very difficult time for me, especially mentally. The only thing that made it better was Abi. Abi was always there for me. She was always there to comfort me and she would always allow me to speak to her about my feelings. Although she probably didn't know what was going on, she would sit next to me and look at me with wide eyes. She would tilt her head and look at me in the softest way possible. She was the only thing that kept me going, even when I was going through a rough patch in my childhood. She was what kept me living. She was truly the light out of a tunnel. She was there when I transferred schools to get away from the bullies. She was there as I got used to the new school and the new people. She waited for me at the house, ready to listen to all my new stories and new adventures. She is truly my best companion. Nine years later, her heart is as kind as the first day I met her. Her fur is covered with more white hair than before but she still smiles the exact same as the first time I saw her. Her running is a bit slower, but she still loves going outside and exploring. She was there when I went from middle school to high school. She was there when I graduated high school, she was there when I got accepted to college. And now, she is next to me as I am getting ready to go on my next adventure; figuring out college. I am so excited to be able to share my new stories with my best friend.

At the age of nine, my family and I rescued a puggle from our local SPCA. I named her Abigail but Abi for short. She instantly became my best friend. She was always there for me, through all of my struggles and especially when I went through a rough patch in which my anxiety and depression got bad. She would lay in bed with me, and lick my face. She would run around, making me laugh. She is now nine years old, her heart as kind as when we first got her, her hair whiter but her smile remains the same. Not that long ago, I rescued a kitten. I named him Gus-Gus. Now, Abi and Gus are brother and sister, a duo that never fails to put a smile on my face. When it's time for bed, Gus loves sleeping by my head, while Abi wraps herself around my feet, and that is how we fall asleep. Abi and Gus are quite literally, my children and my pride and joy. They are what keep me going each and every single day. I always talk to them, and it's like they actually know what is going on, because they sit next to me, and look at me wide-eyed, with the most understanding look on their tiny faces. They truly changed my life for the better and I know that I was destined to have them in my life. They allowed me to pick them, but at the same time, they also picked me as their person. Pets have the most innocent souls and are the best companions. No matter what they will always choose their human. They will always put you over themselves with no hesitation at all. They listen and give you comfort. When you feel alone, they are always there. Pets are better than humans; this will forever be my opinion.

When I accompanied my mother to the doctor’s office, the doctor asked my mother if she could speak English, to which she responded with “No.” The doctor then asked her how long she had been in America, and my mother responded with “About 20 years,” and the doctor said, “Well, you need to learn English, it would make this a lot easier.” Even as a child, I questioned this exchange: why did it matter that she could or could not speak English? I was translating, so why did it matter? I always translate for my parents wherever we go, jumping in when others can’t understand my parent’s English or when people look at them funny when they speak the little English they know. I grew up having the instinct of always helping my parents. Ever since I was young, I always spoke for my parents. I am their personal translator, and, at times, I felt like I was also their protector. As a little girl, I always feared being away from them because just the mere thought of them being apart from me, apart from my English, made me nervous. I feared the things others might say to them, phrases my parents wouldn’t be able to understand or respond to. Early on, I learned that minorities are expected to stay quiet. We are expected to let people do what they want towards us, but as I grew older, I realized that I have a voice for myself. And a voice that I can lend to other people who also face discrimination. My childhood experiences, in which I saw my parents belittled for speaking Spanish, made me want to become a human rights and social justice lawyer. I watched my parents roam “the land of equal opportunities” with fear because of discrimination. I want to be the voice of many people of color and of immigrants. As a child, I didn’t know how to respond or react, but as I grew older, I understood the need to speak out against discrimination. I understood that some people feel like they don’t have the power to do so. I want to empower justice for minorities and people of color.

When I accompanied my mother to the doctor’s office, the doctor asked my mother if she could speak English, to which she responded with “No.” The doctor then asked her how long she had been in America, and my mother responded with “About 20 years,” and the doctor said, “Well, you need to learn English, it would make this a lot easier.” Even as a child, I questioned this exchange: why did it matter that she could or could not speak English? I was translating, so why did it matter? I always translate for my parents wherever we go, jumping in when others can’t understand my parent’s English or when people look at them funny when they speak the little English they know. I grew up having the instinct of always helping my parents. Ever since I was young, I always spoke for my parents. I am their personal translator, and, at times, I felt like I was also their protector. As a little girl, I always feared being away from them because just the mere thought of them being apart from me, apart from my English, made me nervous. I feared the things others might say to them, phrases my parents wouldn’t be able to understand or respond to. Early on, I learned that minorities are expected to stay quiet. We are expected to let people do what they want towards us, but as I grew older, I realized that I have a voice for myself. And a voice that I can lend to other people who also face discrimination. My childhood experiences, in which I saw my parents belittled for speaking Spanish, made me want to become a human rights and social justice lawyer. I watched my parents roam “the land of equal opportunities” with fear because of discrimination. I want to be the voice of many people of color and of immigrants. As a child, I didn’t know how to respond or react, but as I grew older, I understood the need to speak out against discrimination. I understood that some people feel like they don’t have the power to do so. I want to empower justice for minorities and people of color.

I am the firstborn daughter in an immigrant family. I’ve grown up as a translator, a secretary, a chef, a housekeeper, and a spokeswoman. I’ve had to live with the constant expectation and pressure of being perfect at everything. But most of all, I worried about my parents in this cruel world. I learned that minorities are expected to stay quiet. We are expected to let people do what they want towards us, but as I grew older, I realized that I have a voice for myself. And a voice that I can lend to other people who also face discrimination. My childhood experiences, in which I saw my parents belittled for speaking Spanish, made me want to become a human rights and social justice lawyer. I watched my parents roam “the land of equal opportunities” with fear because of discrimination. I want to be the voice of many people of color and of immigrants. As a child, I didn’t know how to respond or react, but as I grew older, I understood the need to speak out against discrimination. I understood that some people feel like they don’t have the power to do so. I want to empower justice for minorities and people of color. I thought about my future self. In America, education is the key to success. My parents knew this, too. Anything below an A grade was deemed not good enough. Not only did I have to be the perfect student, but I also had to be the perfect daughter and a perfect role model for my younger sister. Most nine-year-olds do not carry the weight of their parent’s risks of immigrating to this country, but I carried that weight every day to school and back. I carry the weight of my parent’s dreams and my family’s future as a first-generation high school and college student. I grew up with resentment, but my childhood transformed me into a mature and independent woman. I turned that resentment into strength, which allowed me to learn that I shouldn’t be tied down because of my parent’s constraints. The responsibilities given to me as a child have helped me become strong and learn how to push through struggles. Also at a young age, I made my education a priority because I knew that no one can ever take knowledge away from me. I have the capability of becoming everything I want to be and even more. I am the first in my family that will get to experience it all.

As an aspiring human rights and social justice lawyer, I am attentive in diverse and collaborative dialogue. My English classes in high school, with all the readings and analysis, made me realize my interest in finding answers, giving my point of view, and learning how to discuss what I read and understood. In English classes, you can question the purpose of life, women’s roles in society, and the way women are viewed, as well as discuss real-world issues. English often created connections between academic topics and my real life: I always found a piece of me in each character. For as long as I can remember, English classes were the highlight of my day and the subject I was the best at. With an English major, you can do so much, despite what many people think. When I tell people that I plan to major in English, I am always able to predict what they'll say, "You will have a hard time finding a job," or "what will you even do with that?" But actually, there is so much to do with an English major! I could be an English teacher, a journalist, an editor, or in my case, a lawyer. My plan is to major in English and then continue my academic career at law school and then, become a human rights and social justice lawyer. Currently, I am the President of my school's Multicultural Club. My current leadership role has given me the opportunity of being a part of the Equity and Inclusion student advisory team as well as a member of my county's diversity council. All of these opportunities, further enhance my dreams of becoming a human rights and social justice lawyer. I have gotten the opportunity to be a voice, for minorities. As a child, I didn’t know how to respond or react to discrimination, but as I grew older, I understood the need to speak out against discrimination. I understood that some people feel like they don’t have the power to do so. I want to empower justice for minorities and people of color. I want to be the change for us in this world and I will do so by going to college, and then law school. I will be a human rights and social justice lawyer. After all, education is everything. No one can take your education away from you. Knowledge is key.

As a first-generation and first-born daughter in an immigrant household, life isn't always easy. As a junior in high school, I have had no one to guide me through the many roads and bumps along the way of college applications, scholarships, and many other challenging things that will have a huge impact on my future. I have had to do it all on my own. It is difficult, but I am not going to give up on my dream of becoming an amazing lawyer that will open up her own law firm. I want to be the first lawyer in my family. I also want to one day open up my own law firm. I want to help people in this world. My parents have worked extremely hard to give me a proper education and I want to make them proud of the person they have raised. Having no one to guide me, I have had many struggles. Struggles I have had to find a way out all on my own, but as hard as it had been, it shaped me into the lady I am today. A lady that will work hard to find a solution to a problem. I have learned that if you truly are driven to accomplish something and you put your mind to it, you can absolutely do it. I can and will accomplish my dream of becoming an extravagant and wonderful lawyer. My parents have always motivated me. I grew up seeing them work very hard. I would see them come home with their hands and feet hurting, barely being able to walk or hold things. I want to one day, buy them a nice house so they can finally rest and see me as a marvelous lawyer. I want them to be proud. As a first-generation, I can say that it can be hard to reach your goals but if you are passionate about it, you can achieve it, you just have to work hard for it. My parents are truly my biggest form of motivation. I want to see the smiles on their faces when I graduate high school, when I get accepted into college, when I graduate, when I get accepted into law school, when I take my bar exam and pass, and finally when I become a lawyer. That is what drives me to keep fighting for my goals and dreams.

I am the first generation to graduate high school and to attend college in the future in my family. I am Mexican and the oldest daughter. I have grown up translating for my parents ever since I could form proper sentences in English. I am a spokesperson and secretary. I keep track of everything and anything, whether it's appointments, paperwork, or phone calls. Growing up, I had to deal with the stress of being the only English speaker in my family. I am the spokesperson for my parents. Translating and speaking up when needed. I remember when I had to translate for the very first time, I was frightened. I always feared that I would translate incorrectly and things would go wrong, but I was told that I did a fantastic job. I was told, "Maybe when you're older you could work here and translate." I remember how proud my mom was. My mom always taught me to help the people that need help. Whenever we went out and I saw someone that didn't speak English struggle with communicating, I would step in and help. That's when my desire of helping people began. That's when I realized that my dream is to become a lawyer. A lawyer that will be there to help people. I grew up with Immigrant parents, parents that always work hard to provide for both my sister and me. Luckily my parents were able to get legalized, but there are people out there that aren't as lucky. I want to help those people to obtain peace and tranquility. I want to help them in being able to live their life without having to worry about being deported. Having to live with the constant fear of your life changing drastically isn't something that is enjoyable. I want to be someone that my parents are proud of. I have always worked hard to obtain my goals. I want to be a respectable lawyer. A lawyer that helps people. A lawyer that gives her clients peace, tranquility, and ease.

As a first-generation and firstborn child, I had no one to guide me through scholarship applications, researching about colleges, or just looking into college-related things. I had to figure it out on my own, which was draining. I felt lost most of the time. As a first-generation and firstborn child, I am held up to very high standards in my family. I have to be a role model, which forces me to be almost perfect. Being firstborn and also a first-generation in my family, gaining an education after high school is a huge accomplishment. I want to make my parents proud. I want them to know that their hard work and effort didn't go to waste. I always worked hard in school to get good grades, because the smiles on my parent's faces showed how proud they are. My parents gave up many things so that their family can have a better life. They always tell me that I have to be better. They tell me that I have to work hard so that I don't end up working a hard job like them. My goal in life is to go to college, then law school, and then work as a lawyer, and once I have enough money, I want to buy my parents their own house. I want them to stop working and rest. I want them to be proud. Being a first-generation and firstborn child has motivated me to be the best student and the best role model I can be. I have had immense pressure but it has taught me amazing skills that I'll be able to use in my daily life once I am an adult.