Our past is the foundation of our future. Even when our history is hidden or untold, it wants to break free and remind us of who we are and where we came from. My name is Chloe McKay, and I was raised in a true Alaskan household with roots in the Scottish highlands. I held up my first catch when I was 4, and helped pack my first moose out of the mountains when I was 11. My dad, uncles, and grandpa all have flaming red hair and beards, built for the cold, and my sisters are gorgeous green-eyed beauties. I am an Alaskan and a McKay, through and through. Before my name was Chloe McKay, though, I was Chloe Hernandez. I was the adopted first daughter of my father, who took me in when he was 23 and single. We've always had a special connection, and I think he knew that from the moment he heard that I needed a home. Though we didn't have much money, we had the relationship and family that I was nearly unknowingly denied. I was never told I was adopted, but the past comes back to haunt us. It haunted me in the way my little sisters shared my dad's green eyes and freckles, my brown skin that "took after my well-tanned aunt," and the harmless jokes between sisters about how I look so much different than them. A slow, hidden trickle of doubt grew in me, building on a fact I already knew deep inside. My dad told me one week after my 16th birthday. "The McKays never lie to each other," he said, "but I haven't told you the whole truth for a long time." The mixed emotions that followed were a devastating mix of betrayal and confusion. But most of all, I felt a deep feeling of rightness. Ultimately, it never mattered that I wasn't Scottish by blood; he was still my dad, I still had two little sisters, and I still belonged to a family with an overflowing love for one another. I left that conversation with a new knowledge of my Hispanic (Puerto Rican) identity and the curious mind of someone with a new outlook on what culture and community mean. History always wants to be told, and I realized that as I thought back to my 4th grade project on the Mayan empire or my self-led Spanish lessons in middle school. Soon after that conversation, I started my first year in the Middle College program, where I studied at UAA as a high schooler with full funding from the school district. I dove into new classes in history, international studies, Spanish, and everything in the library I could get my hands on to catch up on the 16 years I thought I lost. Now, I'm 18 years old. I'm closer than ever with my little sisters, who also know and had a million jokes to make once the dust settled. My dad and I have bonded in new ways over how I came to be in his life, and learning about my past alongside me. I earned my associate's degree through Middle College, and I'm continuing my bachelor's at UAA in history and Spanish studies. I want to continue to embrace the history I didn't know about and become a teacher to educate the world about the people who came before us. No matter the decade or side of the world, families will always find their way to each other. And no matter how long it's hidden, our history will always come to light.