I was born in Puerto Rico, where my earliest memories are marked by instability, loneliness, and resilience. My parents didn’t have the best relationship, and by the time I was three, my father had moved to the United States. My mother stayed but was distant because she had no other option but to work long hours. In many ways, I was alone. I’d like to say I was raised by my grandparents, but the truth is, I raised myself. Around age seven, I went through a period I can only describe as dark. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I just remember the constant sadness, therapy sessions, and being on medication. Looking back, I realize I was a child trying to survive in an environment that gave me very little support. I witnessed violence, lost people close to me, and felt the kind of emotional weight that most adults struggle to carry. But even during all of that, I always stayed on top of my schoolwork. It gave me structure, hope, and something to look forward to. The pandemic hit during what should’ve been my last year of middle school, but I didn’t get to experience it fully in person. That year, I made a life-changing decision, and I moved to the United States to live with my father. I left behind everything I knew, including the language I spoke. I started high school in Derby, Connecticut, with no friends, no English, and no sense of belonging. All I had was myself and my determination to be more and do more. I started with basic-level classes and started a new sport, but overall I kept my head down and focused. I learned English on my own, spoke up when I was scared, and challenged myself more and more each year. By sophomore year, I requested to join honors classes. My counselor was unsure if I could handle it, but I was ready to prove I could. I did just that. I made friends, joined clubs, and became a part of the community I once felt so disconnected from. Then one day, talking to my mother, I found out that many of the kids I grew up with back home had died or just weren’t going in the right direction. They were victims of the same violence I had somehow escaped. That shocked and saddened me, but it also motivated me. That’s when I became interested in criminal justice and law enforcement. I started reading, researching, and learning about how justice systems work, and more importantly, how they fail. I began researching careers where I could protect and serve communities like mine, where young people grow up in fear and without guidance. I believe that people who’ve lived through hardship are the ones best equipped to change things. I know how powerful it is to feel seen, supported, and safe, and that’s what I want to provide. By junior year, I was taking AP classes. By senior year, every class on my schedule was AP-level. When I sat with my counselor to talk about college, she told me I was in the top ten of my graduating class. It was one of the proudest moments of my life. Now, I’m a student at the University of New Haven studying criminal justice. I’ve made it this far, but I know I have more to do and more to give. I’ve had to fight for every step forward, but those experiences have made me who I am-- determined, focused, and passionate about creating change.