When I was younger, we lived in an apartment complex. The people who lived there were more than just neighbors, they were the people who helped us figure out how to navigate this new world. It was neighbors who taught me how to speak English, ride a bike, and fill out my first job application. After high school, I thought I couldn't afford community college until someone told me about California Assembly Bill AB 540, and explained that it could help me qualify for in-state tuition. Later, a neighbor who had gone to a DACA renewal workshop helped me fill out my paperwork for free so my family wouldn't have to pay expensive attorney fees. They always told me that if we had access to something, it was our responsibility to make sure other people had access to it too. For most of my life, knowledge and community have meant the same thing. If I didn't know something, I knew I could knock on someone's door and find someone willing to help. In 2022, I was working at Starbucks when partners in Buffalo, New York, made headlines by unionizing. My coworkers and I wanted to know how they had done it and what challenges they had faced, so we reached out to them on Twitter. Before we knew it, we were in group chats and Zoom calls with workers from across the country, sharing ideas and learning from each other. With their support, and the help of local organizers, we had our own union election, which we won unanimously. Those experiences shaped the way I see change. Growing up undocumented and low income, new to this country, it often felt like doors were closed before I even had the chance to knock. Trying to force those doors open by yourself can feel impossible. But when your community is pushing with you, your strength grows. Obstacles become lighter because everyone is carrying them, and when one person gets through, they hold the door open for everyone else. That is the impact I want to make. I want to earn a degree in Sociology so I can better understand how communities build power and create lasting change. I hope to find my place in community organizing because I want to give back to the people who built me. Whether that means helping immigrant families navigate resources, organizing workers, or connecting people with information they didn't know existed, I want to be the person someone can knock on the door of. My path hasn't been conventional, but I'm grateful for every detour because each one taught me something worth sharing. As I continue my education, I know my role in my community will grow too. The people who inspired me never kept knowledge to themselves, they passed it on. I want to do the same, because I've seen firsthand how one person sharing what they know can change someone else's future.