I was twelve years old when my little brother was born, and from the moment I met him, something in me shifted. Our dad was still living with us at the time, but he was already emotionally gone. He spent most days drinking, caught up in his own struggles with alcoholism. He was there, but not really there. He never looked up when I brought home good grades, never asked how I was doing, never tried. My mom, a hard working Mexican immigrant, held everything together the best she could, but she needed help. So I stepped in. I became a second parent overnight. I changed diapers, made bottles, soothed my brother to sleep. As he grew older, I helped him with homework, taught him how to ride a bike, and made sure he had everything he needed. I was just a kid myself, but I didn’t have the luxury of being one. I grew up in the Bronx, in an area most people would call “the ghetto.” It’s not always safe, and it’s definitely not easy, but it’s home. It’s where I learned how to be resilient. When you grow up in a place like mine, people often expect you to fail. They assume you won’t make it out. But I’ve always known that I wanted more, for myself, for my brother, for my family. As a first-generation student, I’ve had to figure everything out alone. There’s no roadmap when you’re the first. I’ve learned how to apply to college by staying after school with my counselor, attending workshops, and Googling everything from FAFSA to scholarships. It’s exhausting, especially while balancing the responsibility of caring for my brother, but I keep pushing forward. My dream is to become a nurse—not just to create a better future, but because I’ve seen firsthand how much care and compassion can change someone’s life. My brother doesn’t know everything I’ve done for him, and I don’t want him to. I just want him to grow up feeling supported, feeling loved, and believing that he can become anything he wants. That’s what keeps me going on the hardest days. When I read about Jesus Baez-Santos, I saw so much of myself in his story. He was selfless, goofy, loving - someone who lit up rooms and gave even when he didn’t have much. I try to be that person too. I try to show up for my family with love, even when I’m tired. I try to laugh, even when things are heavy. This scholarship would mean the world to me, not just financially, but emotionally. It would remind me that everything I’ve carried hasn’t gone unnoticed. That someone out there sees my story and believes in my future.