My family is from Zacatecas, a beautiful mountainous area of Mexico. A place so rich in culture, that it shaped who I am today. My house is the gathering place of friends! My parents friends, my brothers friends and mine too! We eat! After a hard fought volleyball game, my mom stands in the kitchen and whips up more than 100 tacos de papa. With a salsita roja made from cherry tomatoes and chile arbol. Our friends think these are a delicacy, so crunchy, flavorful and addictive. What they don't know is this is what we eat when groceries are low. We don't have much in this tiny house, but our friends are pouring out of the kitchen with standing room only. I often tell my mom, "someday you're kitchen will be so big you'll have to shout to gather us all". I'm going to do it for her. My grandpa came to this country and worked sun up to sun down on the LeVally Ranch as the ranch hand. He taught my dad the importance of hard work. College wasn't an option for him (or even an idea). My dad was one of nine siblings to graduate High School and that was a huge accomplishment for our family. My mom received her GED. Today my dad tells me, "you need to work hard too, in school. Get your degree so you don't spend your life breaking your back". I've been accepted and have received a full tuition volleyball scholarship from Nebraska Wesleyan University in the amount of $43,966 and need a little over $8,000 to cover my total cost to attend. This opportunity would help me immensely. My mission is to get my degree in Business and Sports Management. I want to eventually come back home and build an indoor youth sports facility. Although my parents live paycheck to paycheck, I have to do it. I will be a successful Mexican business owner with the same work ethic as my grandfather, fueled by the most beautiful culture in the world. I'll be the first generation. I'll build my mother's kitchen someday. Thank you!

I was a five-year-old girl, running, playing, laughing and full of life. Chasing my middle brother through our yard without a care in the world. We both crashed through the front door to have our big brother join the fun, then we heard the POP! That’s the day that everything changed. We ran through the house because our minds couldn’t comprehend that the noise could be bad, how could it be bad? We push open the door and discovered a tragedy. Still believing this could be a joke, we yell at him “Santos”! It was not a joke, not a prank, it was real. We both dash back towards the door, we yell for our dad. “Dad!” “Dad!”, my dad tries to understand what this five and eight year old are trying to say. I watch my dad race up the stairs and I stand outside, helpless. My mom races up the driveway and gets out screaming. I asked myself “what is happening”? Before to long, police begin to arrive, the ambulance arrives and my family begins to flood our front yard. I heard “he’s gone”. My big brother is gone? But how? Why? Everything changed that day. My middle brother changed. My Dad changed. My mom changed. I was a little girl at my big brother’s funeral. As I watched his entire middle school football team line up to pay their respects, I couldn’t comprehend he wouldn’t play in their game later that afternoon. He never came back home, his books laid right where he left them. His snacks untouched, and his shoes right by the door. I experienced this loss while I was so young and it hurts the same each day. He was so smart. He wanted to be a Cardio Thoracic Surgeon and he was 12. He read huge books weekly and updated me on each one. He was hilarious and had the most heart capturing smile (my mom says I have his smile). I think about him everyday and what he’d be doing. This year marks twelve years that he left, the same amount of time he was here. He made me want to be something today, I want to do what he would've done. Be a college graduate, earn my degree, help my family and my community. Be kind and selfless. Light up the room. Fill the cup of those around me. Compete with myself. Most of all, I want to make my biggest brother proud.