I grew up believing that caring for others is what makes a family that much stronger. Being the eldest daughter of immigrant parents in America has impacted the way I was raised. Growing up, I’ve gained the privilege of seeing two sides of the same coin, the strength within my community of low-income immigrants, and the barriers we faced in accessing support and resources that others easily get. I realized that I want to be their hope and a safe space for them. I plan to make it happen as I continue my education in majoring in Family and Human Services. My family had faced poverty when coming to America with only the clothes on their back having no support system which caused them to only depend on themselves. Through their perseverance of working full-time, recycling cans and under the table jobs they were able to manage to buy a home in a safe area to raise me, yet the challenges of belonging and having resources were still something they could not seem to find. As I grew up learning English in an all American school I was able to use that skill to help my parents in translating documents, using the internet and connections to find help with paying bills, understanding insurance coverage and applying for food benefits.It made me realize that other families must be going through the same thing and that someone needs to be there for them too. These experiences have taught me the lack of support and resources within the Hispanic/Latino community where they are not able to freely seek assistance without the many barriers of whether they speak Spanish, understand the circumstances and cultural background. I want to be the person they can lean on and ease that pressure. In doing so I plan to continue my education at the University of Oregon in the Fall to get my bachelors in Family and Human Services. I will be a student full time while working as a receptionist at a private nonprofit organization called Oregon Community Programs that provides behavioral health services for youth and their families. I’ve recently worked with clients in a playgroup to work with them through their feelings and social skills and in the near future I plan to be co-hosting a Spanish parenting workshop to help and provide resources to parents whose first language is Spanish. This scholarship would ease the financial barrier in pursuing my degree full-time while working. More importantly, it would allow me to focus on my studies, the clients, and the community I’m building toward. Like Thomas, I too believe that showing up for others with my whole heart is how you leave the world a little bit better than you found it.

During the few months of COVID-19, my family and I struggled. My mother found out my grandfather was dying which led her to drop everything to see him one last time. While she was away my father was hospitalized leaving me, the eldest daughter and a first-generation student, as the sole provider for my siblings. I was attending school, and holding a household together. I was silently falling apart inside. My doctor advised me to seek therapy and so I did. Yet, what followed was weeks of phone calls, insurance barriers and the many waitlists due to the world being in crisis. I didn’t give up, eventually I found a therapist who truly understood me. Those sessions provided an insight through my own struggles, I began to notice that so many people in my community were growing the struggles so much similar to mine with no roadmap out. This was the spark that helped me find my purpose. Breaking a generational cycle is hard, yet it is the best way to move forward to create a stronger family dynamic where members can express and acknowledge their feelings. The viewpoint led me to continue a degree in Family and Human Services, a goal I held for ten years yet never gave up. The First Generation College Essay would help ease my financial burden so that I may focus more on my education to receive my bachelors degree and to be able to motivate my community to receive mental health services.

Growing up as the eldest daughter of Mexican immigrant parents, I became my family’s source of support. I would translate and explain legal documents for them, navigate the school system without direct parental experience to guide me, and work full-time to support myself and my family. Many children in similar circumstances like me carry that same weight of being their family’s provider, translator and legal expert. This role takes a quiet and heavy toll in their mental health. The challenges of acknowledging and seeking support is a gap that our community still faces, which is what led me to pursue Family and Human Services. My parents came to the United States in their twenties with a dream for a better life for their new family. They found themselves navigating an unfamiliar system where support and resources were scarce. From a young age, helping them through the unfamiliar system gave me a deep understanding of the struggles families like ours face, such as low income, language barriers, complex eligibility restrictions and limited awareness of available services. In my early twenties, the COVID-19 uprooted everything. My mother traveled one way to Mexico to care for my dying grandfather, then suddenly my father was hospitalized, making me the sole provider for my siblings in addition to balancing my full-time job and school. Finding mental health support during that time was its own battle of finding a provider who understood my cultural background and my parents dismissing my struggles as something a simple prayer or a nature walk could fix. This is the reality that many children of immigrant parents know all too well. Mental health is often dismissed as a sign of weakness, attention-seeking or simply not real, leaving many to hesitate to speak up. “Solo estás haciendo flojo”- You’re just being lazy. “Pide a Dios que te ayude” Ask God to help you. “La salud mental no existe”- Mental health isn’t real. That stigma creates a barrier that keeps so many individuals from ever reaching out. Even for those who do cross it, obstacles remain. Finding services that accept their insurance, offer support in their language and even understand their culture can feel impossible. That awareness became the spark for my purpose. I knew I wanted to help others especially within my community, but couldn't name exactly what role that would be. I began working at Oregon Community Programs, a nonprofit that provides research-based treatment and prevention services to families. My role as a receptionist gave me the opportunity to witness clients arrive to their first session overwhelmed and leave their last session with meaningful skills to manage their mental health. I expanded my role by working in a playgroup, where I help children develop social skills while deepening my understanding of Family and Human Services. Education is important to me because I would have the opportunity to be the first woman in my family to earn a bachelor's degree. I hope my life story can inspire so many children of immigrant parents and of low income to dream big and have it be the inspiration to make it their reality. Even though it has taken time to earn my Associate degrees at Lane Community College, I intend to transfer to the University of Oregon to major in Family and Human Services. This scholarship would tremendously ease the financial burden of my education, allowing me to focus on my studies and skill development. I hope to turn my experience into a positive change in my career while motivating my community to break their own barrier by acknowledging and receiving mental health services.

Growing up as the eldest daughter of Mexican immigrant parents, I became my family’s source of support. I would translate and explain legal documents for them, navigate the school system without direct parental experience to guide me, and work full-time to support myself and my family. Many children in similar circumstances like me carry that same weight of being their family’s provider, translator and legal expert. This role takes a quiet and heavy toll in their mental health. The challenges of acknowledging and seeking support is a gap that our community still faces, which is what led me to pursue family and human services. My parents, who were in their twenties, came to the United States with a dream for a better life for their new family. They found themselves navigating an unfamiliar system where support and resources were scarce. From a young age, helping them through the unfamiliar system gave me a deep understanding of the struggles families like ours face, such as low income, language barriers, complex eligibility restrictions and limited awareness of available services. In my early 20’s, the COVID-19 uprooted everything. My mother had to stay in Mexico to care for my dying grandfather while my father was hospitalized, making me the sole provider for my siblings in addition to balancing my full-time job and school. Finding mental health support during that time was its own battle of finding a provider who understood my cultural background and my parents dismissing my struggles as something a simple prayer or a nature walk could fix. This is the reality that many individuals born and raised in America by immigrant parents know all too well. Mental health is often dismissed as a sign of weakness, attention-seeking or simply not real, leaving many to hesitate to speak up. “Solo estás haciendo flojo”- You’re just being lazy. “Pide a Dios que te ayude” Ask God to help you. “La salud mental no existe”- Mental health isn’t real. That stigma creates a barrier that keeps so many individuals from ever reaching out. Even for those who do cross it, obstacles remain. Finding services that accept their insurance, offer support in their language and even understand their culture can feel impossible. That awareness became the spark for my purpose. I knew I wanted to help others especially within my community, but couldn't name exactly what role that would be. I began working at Oregon Community Programs, a nonprofit that provides research-based treatment and prevention services to families. My role as a receptionist gave me the opportunity to witness clients arrive to their first session overwhelmed and leave their last session with meaningful skills to manage their mental health. I expanded my role by working in a playgroup, where I help children develop social skills while deepening my understanding of Family and Human Services. Even though it has taken time to earn my Associate of General Studies and Associate of Arts Oregon Transfer degrees at Lane Community College, my motivation and aspirations have not diminished. I intend to transfer to the University of Oregon to major in Family and Human Services with a clear sense of purpose and determination. This scholarship would tremendously ease the financial burden of my education, allowing me to focus on my studies and skill development. I hope to turn my experience into a positive change in my career while motivating my community to break their own barrier by acknowledging and receiving mental health services.

Growing up as the eldest daughter of Mexican immigrant parents, I became my family’s source of support. I would translate and explain legal documents for them, navigate the school system without direct parental experience to guide me, and work full-time to support myself and my family. Many children in similar circumstances like me carry that same weight of being their family’s provider, translator and legal expert. This role takes a quiet and heavy toll in their mental health. The challenges of acknowledging and seeking support is a gap that our community still faces, which is what led me to pursue family and human services. My parents, who were in their twenties, came to the United States with a dream for a better life for their new family. They found themselves navigating an unfamiliar system where support and resources were scarce. From a young age, helping them through the unfamiliar system gave me a deep understanding of the struggles families like ours face, such as low income, language barriers, complex eligibility restrictions and limited awareness of available services. In my early 20’s, the COVID-19 uprooted everything. My mother had to stay in Mexico to care for my dying grandfather while my father was hospitalized, making me the sole provider for my siblings in addition to balancing my full-time job and school. Finding mental health support during that time was its own battle of finding a provider who understood my cultural background and my parents dismissing my struggles as something a simple prayer or a nature walk could fix. This is the reality that many individuals born and raised in America by immigrant parents know all too well. Mental health is often dismissed as a sign of weakness, attention-seeking or simply not real, leaving many to hesitate to speak up. “Solo estás haciendo flojo”- You’re just being lazy. “Pide a Dios que te ayude” Ask God to help you. “La salud mental no existe”- Mental health isn’t real. That stigma creates a barrier that keeps so many individuals from ever reaching out. Even for those who do cross it, obstacles remain. Finding services that accept their insurance, offer support in their language and even understand their culture can feel impossible. That awareness became the spark for my purpose. I knew I wanted to help others especially within my community, but couldn't name exactly what role that would be. I began working at Oregon Community Programs, a nonprofit that provides research-based treatment and prevention services to families. My role as a receptionist gave me the opportunity to witness clients arrive to their first session overwhelmed and leave their last session with meaningful skills to manage their mental health. I expanded my role by working in a playgroup, where I help children develop social skills while deepening my understanding of Family and Human Services. Even through it has taken time to earn my Associate of General Studies and Associate of Arts Oregon Transfer degrees at Lane Community College, my motivation and aspirations have not diminished. I intend to transfer to the University of Oregon to major in Family and Human Services with a clear sense of purpose and determination. This scholarship would tremendously ease the financial burden of my education, allowing me to focus on my studies and skill development. I hope to turn my experience into a positive change in my career while motivating my community to break their own barrier by acknowledging and receiving mental health services.

Growing up as the eldest daughter of Mexican immigrant parents, I became my family’s source of support. Carrying these responsibilities at a young age took a toll on my mental health which would shape my understanding of how difficult it is to not only seek help, but receive it. My parents came to the United States in their twenties having to navigate an unfamiliar system with limited resources, language barriers and representation were scarce. Supporting them through these challenges gave me an understanding of the struggles many families like ours face. In my early 20’s, the COVID-19 uprooted everything. My mother had to stay in Mexico to care for my dying grandfather while my father was hospitalized, making me the sole provider for my siblings in addition to balancing work and school. Seeking mental health was a struggle. Many providers did not understand my cultural background, and within my family, mental health was often dismissed as something that could be solved with prayer or a nature walk. This reflects a common reality for immigrant communities and often prevents individuals from speaking up. That awareness became the foundation of my purpose. While working at Oregon Community Programs, which is a nonprofit that provides research-based treatment and prevention services to families. My role as a receptionist gave me the opportunity to witness clients arrive to their first session overwhelmed and leave their last session with meaningful skills to manage their mental health. Although my path to earning my Associate degrees at Lane Community College, my motivation has remained strong. I intend to transfer to the University of Oregon to major in Family and Human Services. This scholarship would tremendously ease the financial burden of my education. I hope to turn my experience into a positive change for myself and the community.

Growing up as the eldest daughter of Mexican immigrant parents, I became my family’s source of support. I would translate and explain legal documents for them, navigate the school system without direct parental experience to guide me, and work full-time to support myself and my family. Many children in similar circumstances like me carry that same weight of being their family’s provider, translator and legal expert. This role takes a quiet and heavy toll in their mental health. The challenges of acknowledging and seeking support is a gap that our community still faces, which is what led me to pursue family and human services. My parents, who were in their twenties, came to the United States with a dream for a better life for their new family. They found themselves navigating an unfamiliar system where support and resources were scarce. From a young age, helping them through the unfamiliar system gave me a deep understanding of the struggles families like ours face, such as low income, language barriers, complex eligibility restrictions and limited awareness of available services. In my early 20’s, the COVID-19 uprooted everything. My mother had to stay in Mexico to care for my dying grandfather while my father was hospitalized, making me the sole provider for my siblings in addition to balancing my full-time job and school. Finding mental health support during that time was its own battle of finding a provider who understood my cultural background and my parents dismissing my struggles as something a simple prayer or a nature walk could fix. This is the reality that many individuals born and raised in America by immigrant parents know all too well. Mental health is often dismissed as a sign of weakness, attention-seeking or simply not real, leaving many to hesitate to speak up. “Solo estás haciendo flojo”- You’re just being lazy. “Pide a Dios que te ayude” Ask God to help you. “La salud mental no existe”- Mental health isn’t real. That stigma creates a barrier that keeps so many individuals from ever reaching out. Even for those who do cross it, obstacles remain. Finding services that accept their insurance, offer support in their language and even understand their culture can feel impossible. That awareness became the spark for my purpose. I knew I wanted to help others especially within my community, but couldn't name exactly what role that would be. I began working at Oregon Community Programs, a nonprofit that provides research-based treatment and prevention services to families. My role as a receptionist gave me the opportunity to witness clients arrive to their first session overwhelmed and leave their last session with meaningful skills to manage their mental health. I expanded my role by working in a playgroup, where I help children develop social skills while deepening my understanding of Family and Human Services. Although it has taken time to earn my Associate of General Studies and Associate of Arts Oregon Transfer degrees at Lane Community College, my motivation and aspirations have not diminished. I intend to transfer to the University of Oregon to major in Family and Human Services with a clear sense of purpose and determination. This scholarship would tremendously ease the financial burden of my education, allowing me to focus on my studies and skill development. I hope to turn my experience into a positive change in my career while motivating my community to break their own barrier by acknowledging and receiving mental health services.

Being the first-born Mexican-American daughter of immigrant parents, I have witnessed a critical diversity-related issue facing my community is the lack of access towards mental health compounded by cultural stigma. The struggle on mental health is often viewed as a sign of weakness or something that can be solved through faith within the Hispanic/Latinx community. This stigma makes it harder for individuals in the community to seek help or discuss their experiences. With Spanish being the second most commonly spoken language in the United States, many mental health services lack the tools needed to accommodate Spanish-speaking communities. Barriers such as language differences, cultural background and the access to resources can make navigating mental health feel unobtainable. My own experiences have deeply shaped my view on mental health and how important it is to create spaces where people feel seen and supported. During my teenage years, I struggled with my mental health and had no idea where to seek help. When I tried to speak with my parents, they often couldn't comprehend what to do or how to help. Many of our conversations lead to a dead end, at times it felt scripted. I would share my thoughts, and they would invalidate them by how good I have it in America, I would respond and it would eventually end with them shutting me down and going to my room. I recognize the privileges I had growing up in the United States. I know the opportunities if I were born and raised in Mexico would have been far more limited. At the same time, I struggled with my identity and the experiences I faced being in a school where the majority were white students. I caught between two worlds while my parents remained in one. I realized I wasn’t truly alone, I had friends with similar cultural backgrounds who shared many of the same struggles. I began to wonder if all children born in America with immigrant parents face similar obstacles when it comes to their mental health. What started as me expressing my feelings among friends turned into a place of belonging and understanding. As I entered adulthood, my perspective of my parents changed. I recognized the immense pressures and sacrifices they carried as immigrants. I realized that I had to work to earn their trust and they had to learn that my opinions did not mean I loved them any less. Slowly, we began to break our invisible walls between us. In many ways we both had to grow. I challenged years of traditions and expectations while my parents challenged years of how to better understand the person I was becoming. These experiences taught me patience, resilience, and the importance of understanding our cultural and generational gaps. It also showed me how difficult it can be for immigrant families to navigate systems that feel unfamiliar and inaccessible, due to the lack of resources, language access, or guidance they need. These experiences led me to pursue a degree in social work. I realized how essential it is to have someone advocating who understands the barriers that many immigrant families face. When I start my social work program in the fall I hope to deepen my understanding of the systemic barriers that prevent communities from accessing mental health services. My long-term goal is to improve access to mental health care within the Hispanic/Latinx community by using my personal experience and education to advocate against cultural, language and systemic barriers.

Being the first-born Mexican-American daughter of immigrant parents, I have witnessed a critical diversity-related issue facing my community is the lack of access towards mental health compounded by cultural stigma. The struggle on mental health is often viewed as a sign of weakness or something that can be solved through faith within the Hispanic/Latinx community. This stigma makes it harder for individuals in the community to seek help or discuss their experiences. With Spanish being the second most commonly spoken language in the United States, many mental health services lack the tools needed to accommodate Spanish-speaking communities. Barriers such as language differences, cultural background and the access to resources can make navigating mental health feel unobtainable. My own experiences have deeply shaped my view on mental health and how important it is to create spaces where people feel seen and supported. During my teenage years, I struggled with my mental health and had no idea where to seek help. When I tried to speak with my parents, they often couldn't comprehend what to do or how to help. Many of our conversations lead to a dead end, at times it felt scripted. I would share my thoughts, and they would invalidate them by how good I have it in America, I would respond and it would eventually end with them shutting me down and going to my room. I recognize the privileges I had growing up in the United States. I know the opportunities if I were born and raised in Mexico would have been far more limited. At the same time, I struggled with my identity and the experiences I faced being in a school where the majority were white students. I caught between two worlds while my parents remained in one. I realized I wasn’t truly alone, I had friends with similar cultural backgrounds who shared many of the same struggles. I began to wonder if all children born in America with immigrant parents face similar obstacles when it comes to their mental health. What started as me expressing my feelings among friends turned into a place of belonging and understanding. As I entered adulthood, my perspective of my parents changed. I recognized the immense pressures and sacrifices they carried as immigrants. I realized that I had to work to earn their trust and they had to learn that my opinions did not mean I loved them any less. Slowly, we began to break our invisible walls between us. In many ways we both had to grow. I challenged years of traditions and expectations while my parents challenged years of how to better understand the person I was becoming. These experiences taught me patience, resilience, and the importance of understanding our cultural and generational gaps. It also showed me how difficult it can be for immigrant families to navigate systems that feel unfamiliar and inaccessible, due to the lack of resources, language access, or guidance they need. These experiences led me to pursue a degree in social work. I realized how essential it is to have someone advocating who understands the barriers that many immigrant families face. When I start my social work program in the fall I hope to deepen my understanding of the systemic barriers that prevent communities from accessing mental health services. My long-term goal is to improve access to mental health care within the Hispanic/Latinx community by using my personal experience and education to advocate against cultural, language and systemic barriers.

Being the first-born Mexican-American daughter of immigrant parents, I have witnessed a critical diversity-related issue facing my community is the lack of access towards mental health compounded by cultural stigma. The struggle on mental health is often viewed as a sign of weakness or something that can be solved through faith within the Hispanic/Latinx community. This stigma makes it harder for individuals in the community to seek help or discuss their experiences. With Spanish being the second most commonly spoken language in the United States, many mental health services lack the tools needed to accommodate Spanish-speaking communities. Barriers such as language differences, cultural background and the access to resources can make navigating mental health feel unobtainable. My own experiences have deeply shaped my view on mental health and how important it is to create spaces where people feel seen and supported. During my teenage years, I struggled with my mental health and had no idea where to seek help. When I tried to speak with my parents, they often couldn't comprehend what to do or how to help. Many of our conversations lead to a dead end, at times it felt scripted. I would share my thoughts, and they would invalidate them by how good I have it in America, I would respond and it would eventually end with them shutting me down and going to my room. I recognize the privileges I had growing up in the United States. I know the opportunities if I were born and raised in Mexico would have been far more limited. At the same time, I struggled with my identity and the experiences I faced being in a school where the majority were white students. I caught between two worlds while my parents remained in one. I realized I wasn’t truly alone, I had friends with similar cultural backgrounds who shared many of the same struggles. I began to wonder if all children born in America with immigrant parents face similar obstacles when it comes to their mental health. What started as me expressing my feelings among friends turned into a place of belonging and understanding. As I entered adulthood, my perspective of my parents changed. I recognized the immense pressures and sacrifices they carried as immigrants. I realized that I had to work to earn their trust and they had to learn that my opinions did not mean I loved them any less. Slowly, we began to break our invisible walls between us. In many ways we both had to grow. I challenged years of traditions and expectations while my parents challenged years of how to better understand the person I was becoming. These experiences taught me patience, resilience, and the importance of understanding our cultural and generational gaps. It also showed me how difficult it can be for immigrant families to navigate systems that feel unfamiliar and inaccessible, due to the lack of resources, language access, or guidance they need. These experiences led me to pursue a degree in social work. I realized how essential it is to have someone advocating who understands the barriers that many immigrant families face. When I start my social work program in the fall I hope to deepen my understanding of the systemic barriers that prevent communities from accessing mental health services. My long-term goal is to improve access to mental health care within the Hispanic/Latinx community by using my personal experience and education to advocate against cultural, language and systemic barriers.

Being the first-born Mexican-American daughter of immigrant parents has shaped the way I value responsibility, myself, and my relationship with my family. In my Mexican culture, family is the most important relationship to maintain, especially showing it during difficult times. From a young age, I understood the sacrifices my parents made to create a better life for our family. Their courage to be here and starting anew taught me to value perseverance and commitment to those you love. I grew up learning American culture through school, friendships and media while my parents held onto their traditions and expectations that were embedded and brought to them from Mexico. Our differences on what we thought mattered were what caused us to clash. What I thought was me expressing my thoughts and opinions was something I saw as part of the freedom of speech that was considered disrespectful and rebellious in front of my parents’ eyes. My desire for independence only created more distance between us, there were times when I believe we created borders from each other of which felt what mattered most to us. As I entered adulthood, I started to see my parents differently and I began to recognize the weight they had on themselves. They too saw me differently as well, I understood that I had to work to earn their trust and that my independence did not mean I loved them any less. Slowly, we took down our invisible walls. In many ways we both had to grow. I challenged years of traditions and expectations while my parents challenged years of how to better understand the person I was becoming. These experiences taught me patience, resilience, and the importance of our cultural and generational gaps. They too showed me how difficult it can be to navigate systems that are unfamiliar and inaccessible. I often found myself helping translate or explain things to my parents that were unfamiliar to them. I became aware of how hard it is for folks from immigrant backgrounds to gain access to support and resources simply because they lack the information or support they need. Returning to college as a transfer student at the age of 27 has required perseverance and determination within myself. I bring life experience and a deep sense of purpose to my education. The impact of these experiences led me to pursue a degree in social work. I realized how essential it is to have someone advocating who understands the barriers that many immigrant families face. When I start my social work program in the fall I hope to gain more understanding on the systemic barriers that prevent communities from accessing support. Receiving this scholarship would help ease the financial burden for pursuing my education, and more importantly help support my commitment to give hope to communities that deserve greater access to opportunities.