My crinkly hands, worn from years of play and work to make the lives of my students better, touch the sign of the "Hieb Center for Families and Children" clinic for the last time, and I suddenly am overcome with flashbacks of the years before this sweet ending: laws passed to ensure people with disabilities have equal rights, adults who were once children in this clinic thanking my team for their hard work to make sure they grew up to be happy and healthy, and children hand-in-hand with their worried parents entering the front door with hopeful eyes.

We called it “the accident.” The image of a sock, bloody with accidents in my uncle’s front driveway, is the last remnant of who he was before the ambulance took him away. Everyone knew that what my uncle had done was not an “accident,” but I think my mother started to call the day my uncle shot himself in the head after a lifetime of mental health struggles the “accident” because we never think this sort of thing will happen to us. My uncle’s suicide attempt was not successful, but none of us were ever the same. When mental illness creeped through the cracks of our life like weeds in the sidewalk, we remembered this day. The day when my single mother packed my brother and I into the car in a hurry in the middle of the night. The day when we realized that accidents happen to everyone…including us. The day when I realized I was not going to go back to kindergarten because my brother and I had to live with someone else while my mom went to Texas in search of hope for my uncle. My own battle with depression, severe anxiety, trichotillomania, and PTSD were debilitating. There were many days where I did not think I was going to make it to the next part of my degree, to the next stage of life, to the next year. When I began working with children with mental health struggles, I found a whole new meaning. Many people asked me how I could work with children who attempted suicide, had conditions that bring adults to the brink of forfeit, and who often engaged in behaviors that resulted in injuries to myself. Those children gave me hope. They showed me that joy can be found even in the midst of our greatest battles. They gave me hope that I was not defined by my own mental illness or my family history. They helped me to accept myself as I am because how could I love a child who was so similar to me but not show myself the same grace and kindness I showed to them? How could I laugh, cry, and walk through the fire with them and not believe in a world where mental illness and indescribable joy and beauty could coexist? People called me a “saint,” but that was simply not the truth. I showed up everyday because I could help them even on the days when I felt like I couldn’t help myself. I showed up every day because they are the reason my power became sharing my battles with mental health. While it may sound selfish, helping these children showed me that there was hope for myself and for my family. Each family who cried on my shoulder, each child who walked out of the clinic happy and healthy, each day I sat with psychologists as they deemed my client no longer qualified for a diagnosis because treatment had been so successful, I began to see that none of this was an “accident.” Standing on the platform of accidents turned into hope as a first-generation college student, I dream of earning my Master’s degree in Early Childhood Special Education with a specialization in Applied Behavioral Analysis from Vanderbilt University where I will conduct research on how to use behavioral mental health treatments in early childhood. After my Master’s, I plan to earn a PhD in Psychology so that I can continue to pioneer research in the field of behavioral treatments for mental health conditions and show that mental illness and joy can exist together.

We called it “the accident.” The image of a sock, bloody with accidents in my uncle’s front driveway, is the last remnant of who he was before the ambulance took him away. Everyone knew that what my uncle had done was not an “accident,” but I think my mother started to call the day my uncle shot himself in the head after a lifetime of mental health struggles the “accident” because we never think this sort of thing will happen to us. My uncle’s suicide attempt was not successful, but none of us were ever the same. When mental illness crept through the cracks of our life like weeds in the sidewalk, we remembered this day. The day when my single mother packed my brother and I into the car in a hurry in the middle of the night. The day when we realized that accidents happen to everyone…including us. The day when I realized I was not going to go back to kindergarten because my brother and I had to live with someone else while my mom went to Texas in search of hope for my uncle. My own battle with depression, severe anxiety, trichotillomania, and PTSD were debilitating. There were many days where I did not think I was going to make it to the next part of my degree, to the next stage of life, to the next year. When I began working with children with mental health struggles, I found a whole new meaning. Many people asked me how I could work with children who attempted suicide, had conditions that bring adults to the brink of forfeit, and who often engaged in behaviors that resulted in injuries to myself. Those children gave me hope. They showed me that joy can be found even in the midst of our greatest battles. They gave me hope that I was not defined by my own mental illness or my family history. They helped me to accept myself as I am because how could I love a child who was so similar to me but not show myself the same grace and kindness I showed to them? How could I laugh, cry, and walk through the fire with them and not believe in a world where mental illness and indescribable joy and beauty could coexist? People called me a “saint,” but that was simply not the truth. I showed up everyday because I could help them even on the days when I felt like I couldn’t help myself. I showed up every day because they are the reason my power became sharing my battles with mental health. While it may sound selfish, helping these children showed me that there was hope for myself and for my family. Each family who cried on my shoulder, each child who walked out of the clinic happy and healthy, each day I sat with psychologists as they deemed my client no longer qualified for a diagnosis because treatment had been so successful, I began to see that none of this was an “accident.” Standing on the platform of accidents turned into hope as a first-generation college student, I dream of earning my Master’s degree in Early Childhood Special Education with a specialization in Applied Behavioral Analysis from Vanderbilt University where I will conduct research on how to use behavioral mental health treatments in early childhood. After my Master’s, I plan to earn a PhD in Psychology so that I can continue to pioneer research in the field of behavioral treatments for mental health conditions and show that mental illness and joy can exist together.

We called it “the accident.” The image of a sock, bloody with accidents in my uncle’s front driveway, is the last remnant of who he was before the ambulance took him away. Everyone knew that what my uncle had done was not an “accident,” but I think my mother started to call the day my uncle shot himself in the head after a lifetime of mental health struggles the “accident” because we never think this sort of thing will happen to us. My uncle’s suicide attempt was not successful, but none of us were ever the same. When mental illness creeped through the cracks of our life like weeds in the sidewalk, we remembered this day. The day when my single mother packed my brother and I into the car in a hurry in the middle of the night. The day when we realized that accidents happen to everyone…including us. The day when I realized I was not going to go back to kindergarten because my brother and I had to live with someone else while my mom went to Texas in search of hope for my uncle. My own battle with depression, severe anxiety, trichotillomania, and PTSD were debilitating. There were many days where I did not think I was going to make it to the next part of my degree, to the next stage of life, to the next year. When I began working with children with mental health struggles, I found a whole new meaning. Many people asked me how I could work with children who attempted suicide, had conditions that bring adults to the brink of forfeit, and who often engaged in behaviors that resulted in injuries to myself. Those children gave me hope. They showed me that joy can be found even in the midst of our greatest battles. They gave me hope that I was not defined by my own mental illness or my family history. They helped me to accept myself as I am because how could I love a child who was so similar to me but not show myself the same grace and kindness I showed to them? How could I laugh, cry, and walk through the fire with them and not believe in a world where mental illness and indescribable joy and beauty could coexist? People called me a “saint,” but that was simply not the truth. I showed up everyday because I could help them even on the days when I felt like I couldn’t help myself. I showed up every day because they are the reason my power became sharing my battles with mental health. While it may sound selfish, helping these children showed me that there was hope for myself and for my family. Each family who cried on my shoulder, each child who walked out of the clinic happy and healthy, each day I sat with psychologists as they deemed my client no longer qualified for a diagnosis because treatment had been so successful, I began to see that none of this was an “accident.” Standing on the platform of accidents turned into hope as a first-generation college student, I dream of earning my Master’s degree in Early Childhood Special Education with a specialization in Applied Behavioral Analysis from Vanderbilt University where I will conduct research on how to use behavioral mental health treatments in early childhood. After my Master’s, I plan to earn a PhD in Psychology so that I can continue to pioneer research in the field of behavioral treatments for mental health conditions and show that mental illness and joy can exist together.

My mask digs in at the soft flesh of my cheeks. I am rocking a little boy to sleep. I know that, if he sleeps, this will be his first taste of rest in three whole days. The next day, I walk into a center where my client has been left in soiled diapers for hours by poorly trained daycare staff. I am not teaching my client to gain the attention of her teachers to change her just because it is in the goals or because it is developmentally appropriate, I am doing it so that no child is forgotten because of a condition that makes it difficult for them to speak. I am doing it because I know that every person with differing needs has their voice heard. My career has been a series of wheels that I could not just reinvent, but that I had to break entirely before rebuilding the wheel. For the past 3 years, I have worked steadfastly at improving the lives of children with Autism and other comorbid conditions as a Registered Behavior Technician. As an RBT, I worked in home, clinic, and community settings to apply Applied Behavioral Analysis therapy. I began to work alongside several Occupational and Speech therapists in our community when they struggled to work with some clients with severe self-injurious behavior and aggression. I risked my career to out an abusive facility and raise awareness for anti-neurodiversity affirming clinicians who had silenced employees while they caused trauma. I rocked the boat even more when I opened my own business where that addressed the lack of services provided to families with special needs. I guided parents through potty training, became a respite care provider for families, facilitated birthday parties, created play groups for families to connect, and provided support to families who were in the process of adopting children with differing needs. Additionally, my passion for preventing Shaken Baby Syndrome led me to start a night nursing service where families could have help from a trained professional during the night to help reduce the stress from lack of sleep. As a student teacher, my commitment to inclusive education inspired me to design an inclusive classroom model and create digital resources for teachers looking to help their students with differing needs and facilitate positive reinforcement within the classroom. I also worked to design an inclusive classroom curriculum for teaching Social Emotional Learning skills with a team of counselors and therapists. Prior to this, I created a reading remediation program for at-risk youth which was recognized by Yale University. I was awarded the Yale Bassett Award of Community Engagement for my work bringing literacy to children in the community in culturally responsive ways. I recently accepted admission to Vanderbilt University for a Master's in Early Childhood Education with a specialization in ABA. I plan to use the knowledge I will gain there to open the first whole service intervention center of its kind in the heart of a disadvantaged community in my hometown, Albuquerque, New Mexico. I want to give families and children the supports I wish I would had as a child growing up below the poverty line in a state ranked the worst for education with one of the highest crime rates in the nation. I want to create a network of support for families including sensory gyms, hair salons for individuals with special needs, and inclusive childcare where families can get treatment for their own mental health. I hope that you would support me on this journey of paving a new way for addressing poverty and mental health.

My mask digs in at the soft flesh of my cheeks. I am rocking a little boy to sleep. I know that, if he sleeps, this will be his first taste of rest in three whole days. The next day, I walk into a center where my client has been left in soiled diapers for hours by poorly trained daycare staff. I am not teaching my client to gain the attention of her teachers to change her just because it is in the goals or because it is developmentally appropriate, I am doing it so that no child is forgotten because of a condition that makes it difficult for them to speak. I am doing it because I know that every person with differing needs has their voice heard. My career has been a series of wheels that I could not just reinvent, but that I had to break entirely before rebuilding the wheel. For the past 3 years, I have worked steadfastly at improving the lives of children with Autism and other comorbid conditions as a Registered Behavior Technician. As an RBT, I worked in home, clinic, and community settings to apply Applied Behavioral Analysis therapy. I began to work alongside several Occupational and Speech therapists in our community when they struggled to work with some clients with severe self-injurious behavior and aggression. I risked my career to out an abusive facility and raise awareness for anti-neurodiversity affirming clinicians who had silenced employees while they caused trauma. I rocked the boat even more when I opened my own business where that addressed the lack of services provided to families with special needs. I guided parents through potty training, became a respite care provider for families, facilitated birthday parties, created play groups for families to connect, and provided support to families who were in the process of adopting children with differing needs. Additionally, my passion for preventing Shaken Baby Syndrome led me to start a night nursing service where families could have help from a trained professional during the night to help reduce the stress from lack of sleep. As a student teacher, my commitment to inclusive education inspired me to design an inclusive classroom model and create digital resources for teachers looking to help their students with differing needs and facilitate positive reinforcement within the classroom. I also worked to design an inclusive classroom curriculum for teaching Social Emotional Learning skills with a team of counselors and therapists. Prior to this, I created a reading remediation program for at-risk youth which was recognized by Yale University. I was awarded the Yale Bassett Award of Community Engagement for my work bringing literacy to children in the community in culturally responsive ways. I recently accepted admission to Vanderbilt University for a Master's in Early Childhood Education with a specialization in ABA. I plan to use the knowledge I will gain there to open the first whole service intervention center of its kind in the heart of a disadvantaged community in my hometown, Albuquerque, New Mexico. I want to give families and children the supports I wish I would had as a child growing up below the poverty line in a state ranked the worst for education with one of the highest crime rates in the nation. I want to create a network of support for families including sensory gyms, hair salons for individuals with special needs, and inclusive childcare where families can get treatment for their own mental health. I hope that you would support me on this journey of paving a new way for addressing poverty and mental health.

My mask digs in at the soft flesh of my cheeks. I am rocking a little boy to sleep. I know that, if he sleeps, this will be his first taste of rest in three whole days. The communication goals sit on a beaten clipboard on the desk across the room, not because they do not matter, but because the human-being in my arms is more important than the data. The next day, I walk into a center where my client has been left in soiled diapers for hours on end by poorly trained daycare staff. I am not teaching my client to gain the attention of her teachers to change her just because it is in the goals or because it is developmentally appropriate, I am doing it so that no child goes forgotten because of a condition that makes it difficult for them to speak. I am not teaching her to speak just because it is what her intervention plan says or because her parents want her to, but I am doing it because I know that every person with differing needs has their voice heard. The day after, I teach a family to use an AAC device for the first time. His grandmother cries as his face lights up because this is the first time in his life that he has been able to communicate. I watch the little boy smile with glee under the light of his communication device as we played and talked through the AAC device. For the past 3 years, I have worked steadfastly at improving the lives of children with Autism and other comorbid conditions as a Registered Behavior Technician. As an RBT, I worked in home, clinic, and community settings to apply Applied Behavioral Analysis therapy. I began to work alongside several Occupational and Speech therapists in our community when they struggled to work with some clients with severe self-injurious behavior and aggression. When I realized that there were gaps in client care after the therapists went home, I opened my own business where I provided niche services to families with special needs. I guided parents through potty training, became a respite care provider for families, cared for children with a variety of special needs, and provided support to families who were in the process of adopting children with differing needs. Additionally, my passion for preventing Shaken Baby Syndrome led me to start a night nursing service where families could have help from a trained professional during the night to help reduce the stress from lack of sleep. As a student teacher, my commitment to inclusive education inspired me to design an inclusive classroom model and create digital resources for teachers looking to help their students with differing needs and facilitate positive reinforcement within the classroom. I also worked to design an inclusive classroom curriculum for teaching Social Emotional Learning skills with a team of counselors and therapists. Prior to this, I created a reading remediation program for at-risk youth. My work was recognized by Yale University and I was given the Yale Bassett Award of Community Engagement for my work bringing literacy to children in the community in culturally responsive ways. I recently accepted admission to Vanderbilt University for a Master's in Early Childhood Education with a specialization in ABA. I plan to use the knowledge I will gain there to open the first whole service intervention center of its kind in the heart of a disadvantaged community in my hometown, Albuquerque, New Mexico. This scholarship will help me to pursue my dreams and to reach even more lives.

My mask digs in at the soft flesh of my cheeks. I am rocking a little boy to sleep. I know that, if he sleeps, this will be his first taste of rest in three whole days. The next day, I walk into a center where my client has been left in soiled diapers for hours by poorly trained daycare staff. I am not teaching my client to gain the attention of her teachers to change her just because it is in the goals or because it is developmentally appropriate, I am doing it so that no child is forgotten because of a condition that makes it difficult for them to speak. I am doing it because I know that every person with differing needs has their voice heard. My career has been a series of wheels that I could not just reinvent, but that I had to break entirely before rebuilding the wheel. For the past 3 years, I have worked steadfastly at improving the lives of children with Autism and other comorbid conditions as a Registered Behavior Technician. As an RBT, I worked in home, clinic, and community settings to apply Applied Behavioral Analysis therapy. I began to work alongside several Occupational and Speech therapists in our community when they struggled to work with some clients with severe self-injurious behavior and aggression. I risked my career to out an abusive facility and raise awareness for anti-neurodiversity affirming clinicians who had silenced employees while they caused trauma. I rocked the boat even more when I opened my own business where that addressed the lack of services provided to families with special needs. I guided parents through potty training, became a respite care provider for families, facilitated birthday parties, created play groups for families to connect, and provided support to families who were in the process of adopting children with differing needs. Additionally, my passion for preventing Shaken Baby Syndrome led me to start a night nursing service where families could have help from a trained professional during the night to help reduce the stress from lack of sleep. As a student teacher, my commitment to inclusive education inspired me to design an inclusive classroom model and create digital resources for teachers looking to help their students with differing needs and facilitate positive reinforcement within the classroom. I also worked to design an inclusive classroom curriculum for teaching Social Emotional Learning skills with a team of counselors and therapists. Prior to this, I created a reading remediation program for at-risk youth which was recognized by Yale University. I was awarded the Yale Bassett Award of Community Engagement for my work bringing literacy to children in the community in culturally responsive ways. I recently accepted admission to Vanderbilt University for a Master's in Early Childhood Education with a specialization in ABA. I plan to use the knowledge I will gain there to open the first whole service intervention center of its kind in the heart of a disadvantaged community in my hometown, Albuquerque, New Mexico. I want to give families and children the supports I wish I would had as a child growing up below the poverty line in a state ranked the worst for education with one of the highest crime rates in the nation. I want to create a network of support for families including sensory gyms, hair salons for individuals with special needs, and inclusive childcare where families can get treatment for their own mental health. I hope that you would support me on this journey of paving a new way for addressing poverty and mental health.

My mask digs in at the soft flesh of my cheeks. I am rocking a little boy to sleep. I know that, if he sleeps, this will be his first taste of rest in three whole days. The communication goals sit on a beaten clipboard on the desk across the room, not because they do not matter, but because the human-being in my arms is more important than the data. The next day, I walk into a center where my client has been left in soiled diapers for hours on end by poorly trained daycare staff. I am not teaching my client to gain the attention of her teachers to change her just because it is in the goals or because it is developmentally appropriate, I am doing it so that no child goes forgotten because of a condition that makes it difficult for them to speak. I am not teaching her to speak just because it is what her intervention plan says or because her parents want her to, but I am doing it because I know that every person with differing needs has their voice heard. The day after, I teach a family to use an AAC device for the first time. His grandmother cries as his face lights up because this is the first time in his life that he has been able to communicate. I watch the little boy smile with glee under the light of his communication device as we played and talked through the AAC device. For the past 3 years, I have worked steadfastly at improving the lives of children with Autism and other comorbid conditions as a Registered Behavior Technician. As an RBT, I worked in home, clinic, and community settings to apply Applied Behavioral Analysis therapy. I began to work alongside several Occupational and Speech therapists in our community when they struggled to work with some clients with severe self-injurious behavior and aggression. When I realized that there were gaps in client care after the therapists went home, I opened my own business where I provided niche services to families with special needs. I guided parents through potty training, became a respite care provider for families, cared for children with a variety of special needs, and provided support to families who were in the process of adopting children with differing needs. Additionally, my passion for preventing Shaken Baby Syndrome led me to start a night nursing service where families could have help from a trained professional during the night to help reduce the stress from lack of sleep. As a student teacher, my commitment to inclusive education inspired me to design an inclusive classroom model and create digital resources for teachers looking to help their students with differing needs and facilitate positive reinforcement within the classroom. I also worked to design an inclusive classroom curriculum for teaching Social Emotional Learning skills with a team of counselors and therapists. Prior to this, I created a reading remediation program for at-risk youth. My work was recognized by Yale University and I was given the Yale Bassett Award of Community Engagement for my work bringing literacy to children in the community in culturally responsive ways. I recently accepted admission to Vanderbilt University for a Master's in Early Childhood Education with a specialization in ABA. I plan to use the knowledge I will gain there to open the first whole service intervention center of its kind in the heart of a disadvantaged community in my hometown, Albuquerque, New Mexico. This scholarship will help me to pursue my dreams and to reach even more lives.

My first time experiencing the arts in my community was when I entered into the Spoken Word Poetry community during my freshman year of high school at the Voces Writing Institute. I can recall those four summers being the most alive I have ever felt: writing and performing everyday with a group of people who were so radically vulnerable that it changed the way I viewed the world. My favorite teacher from high school was named Tonya Troske; she taught a course called The Holocaust and Human Behavior. This class truly changed the way I viewed people in our society who are painted as "evil" because of the terrible things they do. Tonya's excitement for turning us into better citizens and her candid explanations of what goes on in our world made me want to be a better person. In high school, I ran a program called The Medicine Project where I created a reading remediation program that utilized spoken word poetry. I taught 500+ hours of classes from my sophomore to junior year where I sat on the ground with countless students as they poured their souls out. We were teaching literacy, but we also taught students that art and community are healing. When the notification from Yale University popped up, notifying me that I had been denied admission, it felt like my whole world was crashing down. I had planned the most beautiful life for myself, and I did not know how to get up from such a massive failure. My whole school came to watch me open my admission letter, sure that I'd be the first Ivy League student in my community. I took a few days to cry, to mourn a life and dream that was not meant to be. I decided to stay at my home school (UNM) where I landed the job of my dream a few days later after I finally let go of the sorrow and disappointment I was feeling. I realized it all happened because I was meant to make my impact here, and I quickly rediscovered my true purpose.

I didn’t know I was Autistic until I was working in a clinic with dozens of Autistic children. I very quickly became passionate about advocating for them because so many of their struggles had also been my own struggles as a child. I was “high-functioning” and often told that I was just anxious or a “people pleaser.” It wasn’t until I was working with people who were like me until I realized how important it was to feel a sense of community, receive quality treatment, and be in a neurodiversity-affirming environment. As a Registered Behavior Technician, I am committed to changing the field of mental health by advocating for neurodiversity-affirming Applied Behavior Analysis Therapy over traditional methods of Applied Behavior Analysis. I have been an active ethics advocate in the Albuquerque area in an attempt to make pediatric psychiatric care more affordable, safe, and ethical. One of the main issues I have encountered in my career is the lack of affordable care for those with mental health concerns. Many families and children could not afford to see a psychologist or psychiatrist even with insurance. Many families were unable to receive appropriate mental healthcare for caregivers which resulted in detriment to the child. I recognize that this is an area where New Mexico is egregiously failing. There are 0 non-profit organizations in New Mexico for those who are mentally ill. According to the New Mexico Behavioral Health Needs Assessment, the suicide rate in New Mexico is 1.5-1.9 times higher than the national average. New Mexico is ranked in the top ten states with the highest rates of serious mental illness in the United States. Despite this, mental healthcare in New Mexico is often not affordable or ethical. I hope to open the first neurodiversity-affirming mental health clinic in the state of New Mexico once I complete my formal education. I want to cultivate a rich community of resources for those struggling with their mental health. I dream of a community where mental healthcare is provided with evidence-based, culturally relevant practices that can begin in early childhood. Early intervention is key for long-term success, so this is a service I firmly believe in. I dream of a New Mexico where children are screened for mental-health conditions before the age of five. I dream of a New Mexico where poverty and homelessness rates decrease as a result of improved mental health care. I dream of a thriving clinic where Speech Therapy, Counseling, Psychiatric Services, Occupational Therapy, clothing banks, and food banks are available at one, welcoming location. I dream of a New Mexico where we are free to dream beyond the bondage of poor mental health-care.

I didn’t know I was Autistic until I was working in a clinic with dozens of Autistic children. I very quickly became passionate about advocating for them because so many of their struggles had also been my own struggles as a child. I was “high-functioning” and often told that I was just anxious or a “people pleaser.” It wasn’t until I was working with people who were like me until I realized how important it was to feel a sense of community, receive quality treatment, and be in a neurodiversity-affirming environment. As a Registered Behavior Technician, I am committed to changing the field of mental health by advocating for neurodiversity-affirming Applied Behavior Analysis Therapy over traditional methods of Applied Behavior Analysis. I have been an active ethics advocate in the Albuquerque area in an attempt to make pediatric psychiatric care more affordable, safe, and ethical. One of the main issues I have encountered in my career is the lack of affordable care for those with mental health concerns. Many families and children could not afford to see a psychologist or psychiatrist even with insurance. Many families were unable to receive appropriate mental healthcare for caregivers which resulted in detriment to the child. I recognize that this is an area where New Mexico is egregiously failing. There are 0 non-profit organizations in New Mexico for those who are mentally ill. According to the New Mexico Behavioral Health Needs Assessment, the suicide rate in New Mexico is 1.5-1.9 times higher than the national average. New Mexico is ranked in the top ten states with the highest rates of serious mental illness in the United States. Despite this, mental healthcare in New Mexico is often not affordable or ethical. I hope to open the first neurodiversity-affirming mental health clinic in the state of New Mexico once I complete my formal education. I want to cultivate a rich community of resources for those struggling with their mental health. I dream of a community where mental healthcare is provided with evidence-based, culturally relevant practices that can begin in early childhood. Early intervention is key for long-term success, so this is a service I firmly believe in. I dream of a New Mexico where children are screened for mental-health conditions before the age of five. I dream of a New Mexico where poverty and homelessness rates decrease as a result of improved mental health care. I dream of a thriving clinic where Speech Therapy, Counseling, Psychiatric Services, Occupational Therapy, clothing banks, and food banks are available at one, welcoming location. I dream of a New Mexico where we are free to dream beyond the bondage of poor mental health-care.