Certainly, one of the most crucial moments in which I chose to prioritize my mental and emotional state was between middle school and high school. By then, I had been crossing daily from Juárez to El Paso since I was eight years old. My parents had been deported several years before, forcing me to work two jobs while going to school. I did my best to make it look like I was moving forward, but little by little inside me they weighed up everything: early awakenings, endless queues at the border, differences of language, academic pressure, and the responsibility of helping at home. It dawned on me that I was going to burn out entirely if I didn't take care of my mental and emotional health. And that’s when I started actively choosing to get well — even if it meant I had to pump the brakes in other places. I made it a point to spend at least part of my evenings reflecting, praying, and grounding myself for the following day. It provided new strength and grace to myself when I had no clue what all needed to happen. I confided in a trusted professor about my struggles who told me to make modest plans and that the sum of what I could accomplish was not the whole reflection of myself. In pushing myself to such an immense degree, it taught me the very hard lesson that you can push so much that you stop altogether. I realized the time of rest is not a weakness, it's just part of success. What I also realized is that reaching out, whether through communication, faith, or support from mentors, does not make you less efficient; it makes you powerful. From there I have taken this frame of mind into all aspects of my life. I am a college student at UTEP studying Forensic Science with a concentration in Biology. I have a loaded schedule and lots of plans for my future. I still work to put food on the table for my family. I am still responsible in every way like I have been since childhood. Today, however, I tackle my calendar and obstacles with a completely different perspective. I ensure that my studying is offset with breaks for rest, contemplation, and engagement with experiences/persons who bring me back down to earth. As I look towards my future, whether it be in forensic science, biology, or psychology, I know the path to success will not come easily. That means hard work, emotional strength, and keeping it together under pressure. I know the value of keeping myself mentally and emotionally sound because I already have a history of this working and me not getting burnt out or tired in weeks. I now know that self-care is not a luxury; it's an integral part of becoming successful. Because in the end, that season of my life made me someone who now knows big dreams are not about risking your health but securing it to keep going. And I'm confident now that whatever faces me in the future, I'll handle it by fighting my ass off and staying sane and healthy. It is this balance that will determine whether or not I succeed in school, work, and life.

My name is Fernando Escobedo. I am a student, 18 years old, at The University of Texas at El Paso (UTEP), and my major is Forensic Science with a concentration in Biology. Let me tell you, my journey of higher education was not so pretty, but all the bad things that happened to me made me a determined and tough man who just does not want to give up on his dream. I was born in El Paso, Texas, and grew up across the border in Juárez. At the age of eight, I was crossing the border back and forth daily to simply access my right to an education in the United States. It was not an easy beginning — I came here and did not know a single word in English. I had to learn the language and catch up with my classmates who had been speaking that way all their lives. I arrived early every morning to patiently endure the long border wait followed by a chaotic, challenge-ridden school day. Now, in hindsight, I have learned that all throughout high school, when I thought of my schedule as cruel and unusual punishment, it was actually teaching me two things: discipline in practices and play, and gratitude for this opportunity to fight for. Furthermore, my parents were deported when I was young. All at once, I was left to figure out life on my own while carrying the burden of responsibility in taking over their role. In their absence on a daily basis, I grew to depend on myself and to discover strength in my faith in God and my drive. Education quickly became my rock—the single constant I could cling to when tried by an unpredictable home life. I am sure that as I get older, I will learn to make greater sacrifices for education. I had a job at a restaurant, but also for solar panels—not out of my spending money, but to help support my family too. It was not easy task, work and school, but I always managed to keep my grades up equally high. I learned about persistence, time management, and how hard work pays off while working these jobs. With many challenges in the way, I kept my sight on my goals. That was the start of me studying sciences, especially forensic science, because it helps us to find out the truth and have justice. Pursuing a focus in biology gives me the flexibility to study life at a microscopic scale and makes it feasible for psychology to play an integral part in my future career. My hope is to become a part of the academic community so that I may make a difference, such as solving potential crime cases, doing research in specific fields, or aiding those who seek closure. Looking back on my path, I believe that it is a story of resilience. At the age of eight, I went through learning a new language to, at eighteen, crossing the border every day to attend school as well as working and keeping up with my full-time course load — adversity hit me hard, although, it can either break or build you. It has been, in my case, the backbone of my personality. There will be more obstacles in my future, but I take with me the valuable lessons from my past — persevere, keep moving forward, and that you write your own destiny. The struggle was there in my past, but what comes next will live up to the hopes I set out for February 2016, I have without question.

I was born in El Paso, Texas, but raised in Juarez, Mexico. Since I was 8 years old, I have crossed the border nearly every day to my U.S. school. I was at ground zero, with no English-language skills to speak of, and every day felt like I would fall further behind and struggle to remain just as good. It became more difficult when my mother and father were deported. I matured overnight quite like most kids my age. I was too young to put a name on the stress that I bore home with me from school and from crossing an international border every day. I had no idea at the time; I just thought it was what life is supposed to be like — constantly exhausted, anxious, and feeling as though everything was out of my control. So I grew up and realized that mental health is no less important than physical health. Anxiety might not break the skin, but it will make you bleed on the inside. I realized that when I was stressed, it influenced my academics and how engaged I was in class; it even impacted my interactions with those around me. I felt like I was about to shut down, but after enough experiences, you learn to keep pushing, yet also remember to tend to your brain in small ways such as a phone call or some music for your sanity. My journey has shown me that struggling with mental illness does not mean you are weak; it just means you are human. I always bottled up my stress because I didn't want to come off as fragile, but then I learned that sharing it actually made me stronger. It could help people to talk about what they are suffering from, which will strengthen bonds, and it would also reduce the stigma that mental health is something to look down upon. I worked at a restaurant, sold solar panels; balancing work and resilience since 16. I was overwhelmed with work, study, and family obligations, and it exhausted me over many months until one day I discovered the very costly lesson that you cannot do your best when you are not at your best. I now focus on listening to my body and knowing when it is time for me to step back. Applying means I hit submit — the following are experiences that have really defined me as a person, but in many ways defined what I value within my career goals too. The University of Texas, with a major in forensics — biology concentration. You might wonder what forensic science has to do with mental health, but hear me out — there is a parallel in the sense that this field necessitates compassion, empathy, and grace under fire. To some extent, having my own experiences has made me more empathetic, and that will translate to being a better student but also being a better professional. Mental health has defined my beliefs, relationships, and future. It has shown me that strength is not never facing issues but overcoming them and in these ways having the ability to help others.

never really thought about mental health when I was younger. Where I come from, it wasn’t something people openly discussed. If you were anxious, sad, or stressed, the common advice was simply, “stay strong,” and that phrase became part of everyday life. But as I grew older, I realized mental health isn’t something you can push aside—it’s part of our biology, influencing how we see the world, how we treat others, and how we plan for the future. My journey began at eight years old, crossing the border from Juárez into El Paso every single day to go to school. At first, it felt routine. But after a few months, the emotional weight began to sink in. Waking up before dawn, waiting in long lines at the bridge, and sitting through hours of classes in a language I didn’t yet understand left me drained. I often felt like a fish out of water, caught between two worlds, never fully belonging in either. For a child trying to figure out life, this constant in-between was exhausting. Things became even harder when my parents were deported. I was too young to fully process what had happened, yet I had to adapt instantly. Their absence left behind a kind of quiet that was not peaceful—it was heavy and isolating, even in a crowded room. I didn’t know how to deal with those feelings, so I buried myself in schoolwork, hoping to avoid the anxiety and sadness that followed me. Looking back now, I can see that I was carrying far more than I understood at the time. As I got older, my relationship with mental health began to change. By high school, I measured my worth by how much stress I could handle while also being “strong” for my family. At sixteen, I got my first job at a fast-food restaurant, later moving on to selling solar panels. I worked to help my family financially, but it came at a cost. Balancing school, long work hours, and responsibilities at home taught me discipline and resilience, but it also showed me the toll that neglecting my mental health could take. One of the most important realizations I had was that you cannot pour from an empty cup. If I wanted to be there for my family, be a good friend, and build a life I was proud of, I had to take care of myself first. This understanding changed my relationships. I stopped pretending I was always fine and began opening up when I was overwhelmed. I started listening more when friends confided in me, recognizing how much bravery it takes to share your struggles. I came to understand that true strength is not about never breaking—it’s about having the courage to admit when you’re not okay. A huge shift in my perspective was realizing that mental health is not a weakness. In fact, it’s one of the strongest aspects of who we are, shaping every decision, accomplishment, and relationship. I stopped seeing success purely as grades or money and began valuing my mental, emotional, and physical well-being as equally important measures of achievement. This mindset influenced my career choice. I am now pursuing a degree in Forensic Science at the University of Texas at El Paso. On the surface, it might seem unrelated to mental health, but for me, they are connected. Forensic science is often emotionally intense—investigating crimes, analyzing evidence, and sometimes interacting with victims or their families requires not just technical expertise, but empathy, patience, and emotional resilience. My experiences with mental health have strengthened these qualities in me, and I know they will make me a better professional in the future. I also want to use my voice to help break the stigma surrounding mental health, especially in Mexican-American and immigrant communities where the subject is often taboo. I’ve seen how silence can harm people and how pretending to be okay can make things worse. The belief that “strong” people never ask for help is damaging, and I hope to change that mindset. I want to show others—especially young people—that prioritizing your mental health is not selfish, it’s necessary. Over time, I’ve learned the value of compassion. Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you can’t see. That understanding has made me more patient and empathetic, and I try to be a safe space for those around me. Whether it’s through friendships, family bonds, or professional relationships, I lead with empathy and understanding. Resilience has been another important lesson. Mental health is not something you “fix” once and never think about again—it’s a lifelong journey. Some days are harder than others, and that’s okay. The key is learning healthy coping mechanisms: confiding in someone you trust, setting boundaries, or allowing yourself time to rest. This mindset has carried me through long shifts after school, demanding college coursework, and moments of self-doubt. I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about never falling; it’s about always getting back up and growing from each setback. As I continue my education, I know new challenges will arise—academic pressure, financial stress, and moments where I’ll question myself. But I am committed to making mental health a priority. I’ll set aside time to rest, stay connected to my support system, and seek help when I need it. I no longer see this as weakness; I see it as strength. I hope my story serves as a reminder to others, especially first-generation students, that while life may not always be easy, it is still possible to build a future you’re proud of. Becoming a first-generation Mexican-American college graduate will mean more than personal success—it will be proof to my family and my community that our struggles don’t define us, but they do shape us. Mental health has influenced how I define strength, how I treat the people I care about, and how I envision my future. It has shown me that dreaming big is possible while still caring for myself. It has taught me that asking for help is an act of bravery and that even the smallest act of kindness can deeply affect someone’s life. My journey has been full of challenges, but it has made me stronger, more patient, and more determined to make a difference. The most important thing I’ve learned is that struggles are not the end of the story—they are the chapters that shape us into who we’re meant to be. And with the right mindset, they can turn us into someone capable of achieving anything.

I grew up in Juárez, Mexico, and was born across the border in El Paso, Texas. Since the age of eight, I walked across the border on a daily basis to attend school in the United States. I started out not knowing any English… I was scared stepping into a classroom where I could understand neither my teachers nor classmates. Each morning, however, I told myself that education was my tunnel — not only for me, but for my family. My folks were deported when I was a kid, and that moment has been instrumental in shaping my life as I try to navigate it today. It made me grow up sooner without them around. I learned to take care of myself, to survive on my own, and that no matter what life throws at you, it still goes on. Education was something I could not afford to be cavalier about anymore; each assignment, each class — every opportunity mattered now. I was in similitude paying back my parents for the price of parenthood. Like it was juggling school, responsibility of a family, and I had to work alongside. In high school, I got my first job at sixteen, working in both a restaurant and selling solar panels. I was not doing it for the extra money, but I needed to do my part and help my family. Considering those works, I learned how to be disciplined and speak to people of any background; the customer is always right. I found out success is not just a function of talent, but showing up every day (tired as you might be) and giving it your all. Flash forward 8 years later, I am now 18 years old and a student at the University of Texas at El Paso majoring in Forensic Science with a Bio track. My hope through education is to one day save the world, law enforce murder investigations, victims with no justice, and exonerate science. Like my degree will mean more than a job–it will mean I got there first. Unlike most of the people I know, I am proud of being a first-generation, Mexican-American college student. I am the first in my family to traverse this road and I know, because of me, that there will be others. Graduation is going to be more than just a cap and gown for me and my family, my culture, all the people I continue to inspire that want to drop out because they have been told their dreams are too big. It will be a note that traveling to cross the bridge every morning, suffering from the language struggles, working honestly round the clock, and surviving all of it was not just another waste but an effort about igniting change. I am determined to make this journey of mine worth every sweat and tear because I want to prove that being Mexican-American is not a weakness, it is one hell of an advantage. We are a resilient, loyal, hard-working culture. Encouraging younger students in my community to have big dreams just steps away from where they are. If my story helps just one person realize that they are stronger than they think, then everything I have ever been through will have been worth it. I am still at the beginning of my journey, but I know where my journey will end. I walk to my degree, my job, and few pictures like other people. By the time I walk across the commencement stage, it will be the swiftest, most prideful border crossing of my life.

My name is Fernando Escobedo. I am from El Paso, Texas, but raised in Juárez, Mexico. Growing up between two cities, and in so many ways, two worlds, has had an impact on who I am today. I have crossed the border every day since I was eight years old to go to school in El Paso. It meant early morning departures, unwelcome waits, and back-and-forth between surroundings as simple as crossing the several-storied bridge… but it was not THAT simple. In the beginning of my U.S. schooling, I didn't speak, and every day felt like a battle. I had to make extra efforts to figure out what was happening in class and stay up with my classmates every moment of the day. And my parents were deported a long time ago. Not having that daily presence soon made me grow up, and hand in hand, I had to deal with things kids my age do not even think about. I had a very tough life, but I always knew that my way out was education. I made those daily border crossings my business, but I also made them a symbol of what I was striving for — to provide myself with opportunities that otherwise would not have come. Eventually, I adapted, picked up the language, and started to treat my upbringing as a benefit and not a debilitating circumstance. I have been working since I was 16 to assist my family. I got my first job in a restaurant and really started learning patience and politeness — even when stressed or under pressure. The next was in solar panel sales, which taught me to sell and deal with rejection, as well as some boundaries of my comfort zone. It could be draining balancing work and school, but it taught me how to plan my time and relieve stress positively. This too encouraged me to be mindful of mental health. I came to understand that although stress, anxiety, and pressure are not always something that can be seen, they actually touch every aspect of a person's life. Having the right support and mindset enables people (including myself) to carry on in trying times. It is the message and action I take with me and will more than ever continue to fight for in the future. I am now studying for a Bachelor's Degree in Forensic Science (Biology major) at the University of Texas El Paso. Biology is one subject that I have always found interesting because of the mystery surrounding life and how it may be used to decipher the truth. I’m also interested in human psychology and behavior; I want those to provide a bridge between the two. Ultimately, I hope to pursue a career in which I can meaningfully apply my skills and understanding to aid others and positively impact society. In retrospect, my road to recovery was rough, but every stumble I experienced made me stronger. The early mornings at the border, the long hours spent working, and moments where I was unsure if I could balance it all, have all culminated into who I am today; someone with resolve to keep going and take whatever life throws my way. I realize that there are still many storms that lie ahead of me, but I also know as long as I power through with the determination and dedication to continue following my heart, nothing can stop me.

My name is Fernando Escobedo. I was born in El Paso, Texas, but I grew up in the mean streets of Juárez, Mexico. I grew up having to cross the border every day to go to school in El Paso since I was eight years old. It was difficult, really fucking difficult at times. My parents got deported, so I had to make a lot of decisions on my own. Despite it all, I did not want to give up school or my dreams. I am going to the University of Texas at El Paso (UTEP) to get my major in Forensic Science: Biology. I have always loved science, but I am also very interested in WHY people think and do what they think and do. In high school, I learned that no one ever talks enough about mental health. Juggling through education, work, and life independently was somewhat of a shock to my system (to say the least), stress, and pressure in forms I would not have ever anticipated. In addition, there were friends and even teammates who I watched battle internally for fear of others knowing they might be judged. This helped me see that mental health is not about going to a counselor when times are bad, but it is essentially understanding people and being patient with them as well as always being there for somebody who needs you. I started working as a teenager at 16 to help my family, first in a restaurant and then selling solar panels. It was tiring at times, but it also taught me responsibility, patience, and stress management. The jobs made the impact of mental illness on everyday life so real to me — just in the sense that it CAN be pretty difficult to push through even a sliver of adversity (try staying motivated and getting into your work after speaking with someone for an hour who broke down crying over their best friend's suicide!). I need to do something more than just school in college. I want to encourage awareness around mental health, to build safe spaces for us all to open up about what it is we are experiencing and just remind people that it is okay to not be stronger than the storm every day. With hard work, you can always continue despite the obstacles of life and help other people while you are at it. And that's all I ever want to do with the rest of my life.