As a mentor and psychologist, my guiding belief is that human potential is limitless, but for many, that potential is stifled by trauma, hardship, and a lack of support. I know this because I’ve lived it. Growing up in extreme poverty in Mexico, surrounded by addiction, abuse, and violence, I experienced firsthand how life’s circumstances can limit our sense of possibility. Yet, through education and the guidance of those who believed in me, I was able to break free from those cycles. Now, as I pursue a degree in psychology, my mission is to provide that same opportunity for others—especially for those who face barriers similar to the ones I overcame. At the heart of my philosophy as a mentor and psychologist is the belief that healing and growth are possible for everyone, regardless of their past or current struggles. I believe that people are resilient and that, with the right support, they can overcome even the most significant challenges. Trauma does not have to define a person’s future. My own experiences with adversity have shaped this belief. This personal journey has taught me that a core part of my work is to instill hope, to help individuals see that their pain is not a permanent barrier to success, but a source of strength from which they can grow. My background also influences my approach to working with culturally diverse individuals. Having lived in both Mexico and the United States, I understand the struggles of navigating different cultural expectations, linguistic barriers, and feelings of not belonging. I believe that every person’s cultural and linguistic background should be honored and integrated into their healing process. My role as a mentor and psychologist is to help individuals embrace their identities and see their uniqueness as a source of strength rather than a challenge to overcome. Through my journey, I have found that some of the most effective strategies in mentorship and psychology are those that center on empathy, active listening, and culturally relevant support. I recall the transformative power of the mentors and counselors who took the time to truly understand my background, not just as a set of obstacles but as part of the fabric of my identity. They didn’t just help me survive; they helped me thrive by connecting what I was learning to my lived experiences, making the healing process deeply personal and meaningful. In my role as a mentor and psychologist, I strive to create a similar approach. Drawing from my studies in psychology, I will employ trauma-informed practices to ensure that my clients feel safe, supported, and understood. I believe that healing begins when individuals feel seen and validated, which is why I will use culturally relevant approaches, incorporating an understanding of the person’s background, language, and community into our conversations. My goal is to help individuals not only process and heal from their trauma but also to discover the strengths they may not yet see in themselves. Many of the individuals I will work with, particularly those from underserved communities, face significant personal and social barriers that affect their mental health and outlook on life. Academically and socially, I want my clients to feel empowered to pursue their dreams, no matter the obstacles they have faced. Having experienced homelessness, familial addiction, and violence, I understand the feeling of hopelessness. But I also know the power of hope when paired with guidance and the right support systems. My clients should leave our sessions knowing that they are capable of achieving their goals, and that their past struggles do not have to dictate their future success.

For me, success is about much more than just personal achievements or academic accolades—it’s about overcoming the generational cycles of trauma and hardship that have defined so much of my life. Growing up in extreme poverty in Mexico, surrounded by addiction, abuse, and violence, I learned early that survival wasn’t a guarantee. I witnessed firsthand how addiction can tear families apart and how trauma can seep into every aspect of life. I lost my cousin to suicide, a moment that shattered my family and left a permanent mark on my heart. These experiences have shaped my understanding of success as something much deeper than simply reaching goals; it’s about healing from the past, building resilience, and helping others find hope where there once was none. When I think of success, I imagine myself not only earning my PhD in psychology as a first-generation student but using that degree to create real, lasting change in the lives of those who are often overlooked. I see success as breaking free from the cycles of trauma that affected me, my family, and my community—and helping others do the same. I want to work with young people, especially those who come from backgrounds like mine, to show them that their future doesn’t have to be defined by their past. I want to be the mentor and advocate that I once needed, guiding them through the challenges of mental health, addiction, and trauma, and showing them that there is always a way forward, no matter how dark things may seem. This scholarship opportunity would mean so much more than just financial support for my education—it would be an investment in my mission to help others. Growing up, financial instability was a constant, and even now, as I pursue higher education, the weight of financial stress is something I carry. This scholarship would allow me to focus fully on my studies and my community work without the overwhelming pressure of debt. It would free me to immerse myself in my psychology studies and gain the knowledge I need to create real solutions for those who are struggling with the same challenges I’ve faced—trauma, mental health crises, addiction, and poverty. Earning my degree is not just about advancing my own life; it’s about lifting up others who feel trapped by their circumstances. I think back to my time in high school, where I faced homelessness and uncertainty, and the one constant was my drive to break free from the cycles of hardship. I know what it feels like to have no safety net, to wonder if the future could ever hold something different. This scholarship would help me become the person who can offer that lifeline to others, showing them that they can rise above the adversity they face, just as I have. In my current work with Improve Your Tomorrow, I mentor high school students who are navigating some of the same challenges I once did. Many of them are dealing with poverty, family instability, and feelings of hopelessness, just as I did when I was their age. I see myself in them, and I know the importance of having someone who believes in you, someone who helps you see that your circumstances do not define your worth or your future. This scholarship would allow me to continue this work on a larger scale, reaching even more young people and giving them the tools they need to heal, grow, and achieve their dreams. Success for me isn’t just about overcoming my own struggles—it’s about using my experiences to help others overcome theirs. This scholarship would be a vital step in allowing me to finish my PhD and continue on my path toward becoming a mental health advocate and psychologist, dedicated to breaking cycles of trauma and creating opportunities for healing in underserved communities. It would be a means of turning my own pain into purpose and helping others find the strength to do the same. Ultimately, success for me is rooted in resilience, empathy, and transformation. It’s about taking the hardest moments of my life—growing up in poverty, losing loved ones, facing homelessness—and using them as fuel to make a difference in the lives of others. This scholarship will help me fulfill my purpose, ensuring that I can provide hope and healing to those who need it most, just as I once needed it.

Reflecting on my journey as a suicide loss survivor is a deeply personal and painful process, yet it has also been one of profound growth, understanding, and resilience. Losing my cousin to suicide, after years of struggling with addiction, shook my world in ways I could never have imagined. It was a moment that felt like all the unresolved pain, trauma, and heartbreak in my family had culminated in this devastating loss. He had been battling meth addiction for years, and when my grandparents found him hung outside my grandfather’s mechanic shop in Mexico, it was a moment that left me shattered. One of the greatest challenges in surviving this loss was grappling with the overwhelming feelings of guilt and helplessness. I kept asking myself: Could we have done more? Were there signs we missed? Why wasn’t I there for him in the way he needed? Suicide loss is a different kind of grief—it’s not just about losing someone you love, but about coming to terms with the feelings of failure and unanswered questions that haunt you. Another challenge was navigating the cultural stigma around mental health and suicide, particularly in my community. In many Mexican families, mental health struggles are often brushed aside or hidden, seen as something shameful or weak. Addiction and suicide are rarely spoken about openly, and this silence only made the grief harder to bear. I felt like I was carrying not only my own pain but also the weight of my family’s unspoken grief and unresolved trauma. Despite these challenges, I have learned some powerful lessons along the way. First, I’ve come to understand that addiction and mental health struggles are not personal failures but complex, multifaceted issues that need compassionate care and attention. My cousin’s death taught me that untreated trauma and mental health issues can have devastating consequences, and it deepened my resolve to address these issues in myself and in others. I’ve also learned the importance of seeking support, both personally and for those around me. For a long time, I tried to handle my grief alone, thinking that being strong meant not showing my pain. But I realized that healing requires vulnerability and the courage to ask for help. Through therapy and support groups, I found a space to express my grief, to talk about my cousin’s life and struggles, and to process the complex emotions that come with being a suicide loss survivor. Pursuing a degree in psychology has played a crucial role in that journey. It has allowed me to not only understand my own trauma and grief but also to see beyond it—to recognize that pain, while heavy, doesn’t have to define the rest of my life. Studying psychology has opened my eyes to the ways in which trauma can be transformed, and how mental health can be nurtured and restored. This knowledge has helped me rebuild my sense of hope. Working with high school students through Improve Your Tomorrow has been another source of healing and resilience. I’ve found purpose in sharing my story with young people who may feel like they are alone in their struggles, reminding them that they are not defined by their darkest moments. My goal is to help them see that there is always a way forward, even when life feels overwhelming. While I will always carry the pain of losing my cousin, I have found hope in the belief that his death is not the end of the story. Through my work, I strive to honor his memory by helping others who are battling their own mental health struggles.

What inspires me to get involved in my community is the deep connection I have to the struggles I’ve lived through and the realization that my story can be a source of strength for others. Growing up in poverty in Mexico, surrounded by addiction, abuse, and violence, I know firsthand the heavy burden of trauma and how it can make you feel powerless. My journey—from enduring the chaos of my early years, to leaving Mexico at fifteen, facing homelessness in high school, and ultimately pursuing education in the U.S.—has shaped not only my will to survive but also my desire to help others find their way out of similar darkness. Pursuing a degree in psychology has been transformative in my life. It has allowed me to see my trauma through a different lens. I’ve learned that trauma, though painful, doesn’t have to be the end of our story. Instead, it can be the beginning of healing. My studies have helped me understand how deeply our mental health impacts every aspect of our lives—our relationships, our self-worth, and our ability to succeed. Understanding these dynamics has not only been healing for me personally but has also given me the tools to help others through their struggles. I’ve come to realize that my trauma, while once a source of deep pain, can now be a source of compassion and strength for those I work with. This newfound perspective on trauma and mental health is what drives me to give back to my community. I see the importance of showing others—especially young people—that their pain does not define their future. This is why I’m committed to working with high school students through *Improve Your Tomorrow*, a non-profit dedicated to helping young men of color overcome obstacles and realize their potential. These students often face immense challenges: poverty, broken homes, feelings of isolation, and lack of support. I see myself in them, and I know how difficult it can be to believe in yourself when the odds feel insurmountable. I work to influence change by mentoring these students, sharing both my personal experiences and what I’ve learned through my psychology studies. My goal is to help them understand that their circumstances—no matter how tough—are not permanent, and that they have the power to transform their lives. By offering guidance, support, and a listening ear, I strive to show them that education and mental health are intertwined, and that self-awareness and healing can be the key to unlocking their potential. Through workshops, one-on-one mentorship, and community outreach, I’m actively breaking down the barriers that keep these young men from realizing their potential. I help them navigate their own traumas and challenges, showing them that their struggles can be a source of resilience, not defeat. I want them to see that just as I have broken the cycle of hardship, they too can rise above their circumstances and create a future filled with hope and opportunity. In the end, my inspiration comes from both my personal experiences and the transformative power of psychology. I’ve learned that trauma can either break us or shape us into something stronger. Through my work in the community, I aim to help others discover that same strength within themselves and give them the tools to not only survive but thrive.

My experiences with mental health have deeply shaped who I am, influencing my beliefs, relationships, and career aspirations. Growing up in an environment filled with addiction, abuse, and violence, I came to understand the silent suffering that so often accompanies mental health struggles. I saw how the weight of untreated trauma can tear people and families apart, and that realization shaped my belief that mental health is not just important—it's essential for survival and healing. This personal history has given me a profound sense of empathy. I believe that everyone carries unseen battles, and that compassion, not judgment, is what the world needs more of. My own journey has taught me that while pain and trauma can shape our past, they don’t have to define our future. It’s possible to break free from the cycles of hardship, and I’ve learned that healing is a process that requires patience, self-love, and the courage to seek help. My relationships have been transformed by this understanding. I now approach others with a deep sense of empathy, recognizing that many people are carrying burdens that are invisible to the outside world. I strive to create safe spaces for those I care about, where they feel understood, accepted, and supported. At the same time, I’ve learned the importance of self-care and setting boundaries. Taking care of my own mental health allows me to be there for others without losing myself in the process. My journey with trauma began in the earliest years of my life, in a household where addiction and violence were constants. My parents, caught in the painful grip of substance abuse, were often lost to the haze of their own struggles. I was a child growing up in the shadow of their battles, navigating a world where safety and stability were nonexistent. The chaos in our home, the yelling, the unpredictable swings from love to rage, created an environment where fear became my constant companion. Physical abuse was a part of my daily life, but the emotional scars often ran deeper. The unpredictability of my parents’ behavior left me in a constant state of alert, trying to gauge the mood of the house, trying to stay out of the way to avoid the next explosion. This environment made me feel invisible and powerless, as though my needs, my voice, and my very existence didn’t matter. The emotional neglect and abandonment I felt weighed heavily on me, creating deep wounds that followed me well into my teenage years. There was also the trauma of witnessing domestic violence. Watching someone you love become the victim of abuse is a pain that’s hard to describe. The helplessness of those moments stayed with me, as did the confusion of how love could exist alongside so much hurt. I often felt caught between conflicting loyalties, torn between wanting to protect those I loved and needing to escape for my own survival. Foster care was meant to be a refuge, but instead, it amplified my sense of isolation. Being separated from my family, despite all the dysfunction, made me feel discarded—like I was just another problem to be passed off. In foster care, I experienced another layer of trauma: the trauma of being unwanted. While the physical danger may have subsided, the emotional scars deepened. I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere, that I had no real home. I had learned to build walls around myself because vulnerability had always meant getting hurt. For years, I carried the weight of my past without realizing how deeply it was affecting me. I thought that if I could just survive, that would be enough. But trauma doesn’t just disappear with time—it lingers, shapes you, and leaves lasting marks. As I began my high school journey; It was a different kind of instability, but it echoed the chaos of my earlier years. Once again, I felt like I was living on the edge, without a safety net, without a place to truly rest due to homelessness. The trauma I endured deeply influenced my understanding of mental health. I realized that my own pain, left unaddressed for so long, had shaped how I saw myself and the world. There were times when I felt broken, like I wasn’t worthy of anything better. It took time, support, and the willingness to face my own wounds to start the process of healing. But that journey to healing wasn’t just about repairing the damage—it was about transforming my trauma into something meaningful. This transformation has become the driving force behind my career aspirations. Pursuing a PhD in psychology isn’t just an academic long term goal for me; it’s a deeply personal mission. I want to help others who, like me, have been shaped by trauma. I understand that pain isn’t something you just “get over”—it’s something you learn to live with, something you grow through. My work with high school students through Improve Your Tomorrow is part of that mission. I want to show them that their past, no matter how painful, does not have to define their future. Trauma may leave its mark, but it doesn’t have to dictate the rest of their lives. My own trauma has taught me to approach others with deep empathy. I see the unspoken struggles in those around me, and I feel a responsibility to be a source of support, to be the person I needed when I was younger. Trauma has given me the ability to connect with others on a profound level, to understand pain without needing it to be explained. It has shaped not only my beliefs about mental health but also my desire to be a force for healing in the lives of others. In many ways, my trauma is still with me. It doesn’t disappear, but it no longer controls me. My goal is not only for myself, it's also to help others embark on their own journeys of healing, resilience, and transformation.