Growing up I have always found myself helping people in ways inside my limit. Such things will include doing little acts of kindness but with a great outcome of satisfaction and beneficence of both. Is part of me, of who I am, what prompts my patriotism, my devotion to honesty and respect for all despite our differences. It is easy to believe that the world is drowning in cruelty when so much of the earth is dominated by those who harm (it's unfortunate). I believe that we the people, who believe in compassion and doing the right thing and helping our neighbor should not only sympathize but act under that standard. It was precisely this reason that prompted me to join the American Red Cross. To spend my youthful season contributing to my community. My core values of compassion, sympathy and vivid empathy prevent me from refraining from a sensitive nature of my own. In addition to my interpersonal skill of being able to adapt to all walks of life and environments that will require me to engage in different activities. All these traits and strengths build my character and will develop to a major level by contributing to my community. I am destined to become a first-generation graduate and future nurse in the history of my family's background. My endorsement and pursuit of this career choice was the result of having experienced poverty, misery and the struggles of those who surrounded me. Unlike any other, I was not born in the United States, I was born in a small country in Central America whose economy is unstable. These factors were reflected in the educational and public health system. Our hospitals, the medical care is given and attention to patients is below standard, resulting in the deaths of many citizens due to the lack of improvement. A lot of our practitioners in the medical field, lack the ability and knowledge to successfully perform their duty. It is for these reasons, that I am ambitious and determined to compromise myself to helping the needy through the nursing field. I would like to bring a change and make my parents, family and myself proud. Today, this is the motivation, inducement and joy for which I do not allow myself to take education for granted. My entire life has been consumed by studying; I've made an effort to produce my best work and have never allowed challenges to get the better of me. Being knowledgeable and constantly learning is a part of who I am and what I value about myself in recognition of my parents.

Growing up I have always found myself helping people in ways inside my limit. Such things will include doing little acts of kindness but with a great outcome of satisfaccion and beneficence of both. Is part of me, of who I am, what prompts my patriotism, my devotion to honesty and respect to all despite our differences. It is easy to believe that the world is drowning in cruelty, when so much of the earth is dominated by those who do harm (it's unfortunate). I believe that we-the people, who believe in compassion and doing the right thing and helping our neighbor should not only sympathize but to act under that standard. It was precisely this reason that prompt me to join the American red Cross. To spend my youthful season contributing to my community. My core values of compassion, sympathy and a vivid empathy fervents me from refraining my sensible nature. In addition to my interpersonal skill of being able to adapt to all walks of life and environments that will require me to engage in different activities. All these traits and strengths build my character and will develop to a major level by contributing to my community. I am destined to become a first generation graduate and future nurse in the history of my family's background. My endorsement and persuit for this career choice was the result of having experienced poverty, misery and the struggles of those who surrounded me. Unlike any other, I was not born in the United States, I was born in a small country in Central America whose economy is unstable. These factors, were reflected in the educational and public health system. Our hospitals, the medical care given and attention to patients is below standard, resulting in the deaths of many citizens due to the lack of improvement. A lot of our practitioners in the medical field, lack the ability and knowledge to successfully perform their duty. It is for these reasons, that I am ambitious and determined to compromise my self to helping the need through the nursing field. I would like to bring a change, and to make my parents, family and myself proud. Today, this is the motivation, inducement and joy for which I do not allow myself to take education for granted. My entire life has been consumed by studying; I've made an effort to produce my best work and have never allowed challenges to get the better of me. Being knowledgeable and constantly learning is a part of who I am and what I value about myself in recognition of my parents.

Growing up separated from my parents has not been the easiest life, but it has been my life or my fate, but does not determine my purpose. Throughout my childhood, suicidal ideation has been a constant battle. When in school meetings, I failed to bring a parent and other kids would ask; “where are your parents?” To which only my silence filled the room and tears could only embrace an agony of my own; the desperation of needing my parents, of their affection and love. To condemn my parents for “abandonment,” of being absent when I needed a hug and a place to call home- is fairly reasonable, but it is not being mindful of their sacrifices. Mom and Dad envisioned a better future by fleeing their homeland, leaving their thirteen week newborn behind. They had been deprived of education and worked low wage jobs. It was precisely these reasons, discouraged by the lack of employment, poor working conditions and insecurity, that my parents decided to flee their homeland seeking new opportunities in the United States. Because my parents grew up in scarcity, they related to the world from a position of emptiness. From where I sit, I have the luxury of pursuing things like purpose, joy, fulfillment; but, for my parents, mere survival was the objective. As I arrived at the Newark Liberty International Airport, my mother ran towards me, my dad stood still, and in a matter of seconds my entire body was pressed against hers; hands on back, stomach on stomach, cheek on chest, it was like the warmth of a so-called “bear hug”. We were finally reunited, but it wasn't enough. My mothers’ arms tightened around me even more, as if she wanted to pull me so close that our souls intertwined. Suddenly, I realized that this was the realization of hope, the concept I was holding for so long, the dream I had that someday I would encounter reality; I was never to be alone again and my parents were eager to reconstruct our family bond. In the struggle, I was able to quintessentially romanticize hope as the meaning of a more purposeful life to a degree of granularity. I was then able to comprehend that my story wasn't meant to shape me, rather, I was meant to shape my story and rediscover my emerging self. Adopting this mentality, eclipsed the looming shadow of failure, one that threatened to collapse over me. It resulted in the inducement of hope; living a more purposeful life despite the uncertainty, being free from what chained my happiness. Learning how to cope with this feeling of loneliness, contributed to self-independence and determination in all aspects of my life; educationally, mentally and socially. Hope transcends all human barriers and impossibilities. Hope is the essence of life, bringing into existence dreams, yet reminding ourselves we are perishable, but prevailing, living and victorious despite the uncertainty. I am destined to become a first generation graduate and future nurse in the history of my family's background. Through the endorsement of this career, I will make sure to contribute to the improvement of the public and mental health system.

Growing up separated from my parents has not been the easiest life, but it has been my life or my fate, but does not determine my purpose. Throughout my childhood, suicidal ideation has been a constant battle. When in school meetings, I failed to bring a parent and other kids would ask; “where are your parents?” To which only my silence filled the room and tears could only embrace an agony of my own; the desperation of needing my parents, of their affection and love. To condemn my parents for “abandonment,” of being absent when I needed a hug and a place to call home- is fairly reasonable, but it is not being mindful of their sacrifices. Mom and Dad envisioned a better future by fleeing their homeland, leaving their thirteen week newborn behind. They had been deprived of education and worked low wage jobs. It was precisely these reasons, discouraged by the lack of employment, poor working conditions and insecurity, that my parents decided to flee their homeland seeking new opportunities in the United States. Because my parents grew up in scarcity, they related to the world from a position of emptiness. From where I sit, I have the luxury of pursuing things like purpose, joy, fulfillment; but, for my parents, mere survival was the objective. As I arrived at the Newark Liberty International Airport, my mother ran towards me, my dad stood still, and in a matter of seconds my entire body was pressed against hers; hands on back, stomach on stomach, cheek on chest, it was like the warmth of a so-called “bear hug”. We were finally reunited, but it wasn't enough. My mothers’ arms tightened around me even more, as if she wanted to pull me so close that our souls intertwined. Suddenly, I realized that this was the realization of hope, the concept I was holding for so long, the dream I had that someday I would encounter reality; I was never to be alone again and my parents were eager to reconstruct our family bond. In the struggle, I was able to quintessentially romanticize hope as the meaning of a more purposeful life to a degree of granularity. I was then able to comprehend that my story wasn't meant to shape me, rather, I was meant to shape my story and rediscover my emerging self. Adopting this mentality, eclipsed the looming shadow of failure, one that threatened to collapse over me. It resulted in the inducement of hope; living a more purposeful life despite the uncertainty, being free from what chained my happiness. Learning how to cope with this feeling of loneliness, contributed to self-independence and determination in all aspects of my life; educationally, mentally and socially. Hope transcends all human barriers and impossibilities. Hope is the essence of life, bringing into existence dreams, yet reminding ourselves we are perishable, but prevailing, living and victorious despite the uncertainty. In the journey, these were the moments that affected my mental health and has contribute to a present trauma. Thus, I am looking forward to creating a podcast to empower and inspire to find the beauty in pain and how we as human overcome those struggles.

Growing up separated from my parents has not been the easiest life, but it has been my life or my fate, but does not determine my purpose. Throughout my childhood, suicidal ideation has been a constant battle. When in school meetings, I failed to bring a parent and other kids would ask; “where are your parents?” To which only my silence filled the room and tears could only embrace an agony of my own; the desperation of needing my parents, of their affection and love. To condemn my parents for “abandonment,” of being absent when I needed a hug and a place to call home- is fairly reasonable, but it is not being mindful of their sacrifices. Mom and Dad envisioned a better future by fleeing their homeland, leaving their thirteen week newborn behind. They had been deprived of education and worked low wage jobs. It was precisely these reasons, discouraged by the lack of employment, poor working conditions and insecurity, that my parents decided to flee their homeland seeking new opportunities in the United States. Because my parents grew up in scarcity, they related to the world from a position of emptiness. From where I sit, I have the luxury of pursuing things like purpose, joy, fulfillment; but, for my parents, mere survival was the objective. As I arrived at the Newark Liberty International Airport, my mother ran towards me, my dad stood still, and in a matter of seconds my entire body was pressed against hers; hands on back, stomach on stomach, cheek on chest, it was like the warmth of a so-called “bear hug”. We were finally reunited, but it wasn't enough. My mothers’ arms tightened around me even more, as if she wanted to pull me so close that our souls intertwined. Suddenly, I realized that this was the realization of hope, the concept I was holding for so long, the dream I had that someday I would encounter reality; I was never to be alone again and my parents were eager to reconstruct our family bond. In the struggle, I was able to quintessentially romanticize hope as the meaning of a more purposeful life to a degree of granularity. I was then able to comprehend that my story wasn't meant to shape me, rather, I was meant to shape my story and rediscover my emerging self. Adopting this mentality, eclipsed the looming shadow of failure, one that threatened to collapse over me. It resulted in the inducement of hope; living a more purposeful life despite the uncertainty, being free from what chained my happiness. Learning how to cope with this feeling of loneliness, contributed to self-independence and determination in all aspects of my life; educationally, mentally and socially. Hope transcends all human barriers and impossibilities. Hope is the essence of life, bringing into existence dreams, yet reminding ourselves we are perishable, but prevailing, living and victorious despite the uncertainty. Hope was the concept, the belief and method in which I manage to balance my emotions and also helped improve my mental health with positivity of a better future.

Growing up separated from my parents has not been the easiest life, but it has been my life or my fate, but does not determine my purpose. Throughout my childhood, suicidal ideation has been a constant battle. When in school meetings, I failed to bring a parent and other kids would ask; “where are your parents?” To which only my silence filled the room and tears could only embrace an agony of my own; the desperation of needing my parents, of their affection and love. To condemn my parents for “abandonment,” of being absent when I needed a hug and a place to call home- is fairly reasonable, but it is not being mindful of their sacrifices. Mom and Dad envisioned a better future by fleeing their homeland, leaving their thirteen week newborn behind. They had been deprived of education and worked low wage jobs. It was precisely these reasons, discouraged by the lack of employment, poor working conditions and insecurity, that my parents decided to flee their homeland seeking new opportunities in the United States. Because my parents grew up in scarcity, they related to the world from a position of emptiness. From where I sit, I have the luxury of pursuing things like purpose, joy, fulfillment; but, for my parents, mere survival was the objective. As I arrived at the Newark Liberty International Airport, my mother ran towards me, my dad stood still, and in a matter of seconds my entire body was pressed against hers; hands on back, stomach on stomach, cheek on chest, it was like the warmth of a so-called “bear hug”. We were finally reunited, but it wasn't enough. My mothers’ arms tightened around me even more, as if she wanted to pull me so close that our souls intertwined. Suddenly, I realized that this was the realization of hope, the concept I was holding for so long, the dream I had that someday I would encounter reality; I was never to be alone again and my parents were eager to reconstruct our family bond. In the struggle, I was able to quintessentially romanticize hope as the meaning of a more purposeful life to a degree of granularity. I was then able to comprehend that my story wasn't meant to shape me, rather, I was meant to shape my story and rediscover my emerging self. Adopting this mentality, eclipsed the looming shadow of failure, one that threatened to collapse over me. It resulted in the inducement of hope; living a more purposeful life despite the uncertainty, being free from what chained my happiness. Learning how to cope with this feeling of loneliness, contributed to self-independence and determination in all aspects of my life; educationally, mentally and socially. Hope transcends all human barriers and impossibilities. Hope is the essence of life, bringing into existence dreams, yet reminding ourselves we are perishable, but prevailing, living and victorious despite the uncertainty.

Growing up separated from my parents has not been the easiest life, but it has been my life or my fate, but does not determine my purpose. Throughout my childhood, suicidal ideation has been a constant battle. When in school meetings, I failed to bring a parent and other kids would ask; “where are your parents?” To which only my silence filled the room and tears could only embrace an agony of my own; the desperation of needing my parents, of their affection and love. To condemn my parents for “abandonment,” of being absent when I needed a hug and a place to call home- is fairly reasonable, but it is not being mindful of their sacrifices. Mom and Dad envisioned a better future by fleeing their homeland, leaving their thirteen week newborn behind. They had been deprived of education and worked low wage jobs. It was precisely these reasons, discouraged by the lack of employment, poor working conditions and insecurity, that my parents decided to flee their homeland seeking new opportunities in the United States. Because my parents grew up in scarcity, they related to the world from a position of emptiness. From where I sit, I have the luxury of pursuing things like purpose, joy, fulfillment; but, for my parents, mere survival was the objective. As I arrived at the Newark Liberty International Airport, my mother ran towards me, my dad stood still, and in a matter of seconds my entire body was pressed against hers; hands on back, stomach on stomach, cheek on chest, it was like the warmth of a so-called “bear hug”. We were finally reunited, but it wasn't enough. My mothers’ arms tightened around me even more, as if she wanted to pull me so close that our souls intertwined. Suddenly, I realized that this was the realization of hope, the concept I was holding for so long, the dream I had that someday I would encounter reality; I was never to be alone again and my parents were eager to reconstruct our family bond. In the struggle, I was able to quintessentially romanticize hope as the meaning of a more purposeful life to a degree of granularity. I was then able to comprehend that my story wasn't meant to shape me, rather, I was meant to shape my story and rediscover my emerging self. Adopting this mentality, eclipsed the looming shadow of failure, one that threatened to collapse over me. It resulted in the inducement of hope; living a more purposeful life despite the uncertainty, being free from what chained my happiness. Learning how to cope with this feeling of loneliness, contributed to self-independence and determination in all aspects of my life; educationally, mentally and socially. Hope transcends all human barriers and impossibilities. Hope is the essence of life, bringing into existence dreams, yet reminding ourselves we are perishable, but prevailing, living and victorious despite the uncertainty.

Today, my immigrants parents sacrifices is the inducement and joy for which I do not allow myself to take education for granted. My entire life has been consumed by studying; I've made an effort to produce my best work and have never allowed challenges to get the better of me. Being knowledgeable and constantly learning is a part of who I am and what I value about myself in recognition of my parents. I am destined to become a first generation graduate and future nurse in the history of my family's background.

Growing up separated from my parents has not been the easiest life, but it has been my life or my fate, but does not determine my purpose. Throughout my childhood, suicidal ideation has been a constant battle. When in school meetings, I failed to bring a parent and other kids would ask; “where are your parents?” To which only my silence filled the room and tears could only embrace an agony of my own; the desperation of needing my parents, of their affection and love. To condemn my parents for “abandonment,” of being absent when I needed a hug and a place to call home- is fairly reasonable, but it is not being mindful of their sacrifices. Mom and Dad envisioned a better future by fleeing their homeland, leaving their thirteen week newborn behind. They had been deprived of education and worked low wage jobs. It was precisely these reasons, discouraged by the lack of employment, poor working conditions and insecurity, that my parents decided to flee their homeland seeking new opportunities in the United States. Because my parents grew up in scarcity, they related to the world from a position of emptiness. From where I sit, I have the luxury of pursuing things like purpose, joy, fulfillment; but, for my parents, mere survival was the objective. As I arrived at the Newark Liberty International Airport, my mother ran towards me, my dad stood still, and in a matter of seconds my entire body was pressed against hers; hands on back, stomach on stomach, cheek on chest, it was like the warmth of a so-called “bear hug”. We were finally reunited, but it wasn't enough. My mothers’ arms tightened around me even more, as if she wanted to pull me so close that our souls intertwined. Suddenly, I realized that this was the realization of hope, the concept I was holding for so long, the dream I had that someday I would encounter reality; I was never to be alone again and my parents were eager to reconstruct our family bond. In the struggle, I was able to quintessentially romanticize hope as the meaning of a more purposeful life to a degree of granularity. I was then able to comprehend that my story wasn't meant to shape me, rather, I was meant to shape my story and rediscover my emerging self. Adopting this mentality, eclipsed the looming shadow of failure, one that threatened to collapse over me. It resulted in the inducement of hope; living a more purposeful life despite the uncertainty, being free from what chained my happiness. Learning how to cope with this feeling of loneliness, contributed to self-independence and determination in all aspects of my life; educationally, mentally and socially. Hope transcends all human barriers and impossibilities. Hope is the essence of life, bringing into existence dreams, yet reminding ourselves we are perishable, but prevailing, living and victorious despite the uncertainty.