I am an undocumented DACA student planted with seeds of Mexican culture.
Growing up in Mexico with asthma attacks meant sleepless nights for my mother. She fought endlessly throughout the nights to keep me breathing. Meanwhile, my father fought in the fields of the United States in order to send money for my medications.
Asthma was my parents’ foe that made them fight everyday.
When I turned one, my dad decided to bring my mother to the United States. We moved into a cramped mobile home in Durham, North Carolina on August 18, 2001. The following month, September 11 caused millions of tears all throughout the United States, but those tears were rivers compared to the oceans of tears my mother shed that day as I laid in the hospital bed preparing for lung surgery. My mother was unaware of the chaos happening outside the room, she was too focused on the chaos of tools and sharp objects the surgeons were using. After the surgery, my parents continued to fight way after my wounds had healed. There were times I would not see my parents for days because they would work fourteen hour shifts in order to pay for my medical bills. Both of my parents were fighters when I was growing up, they still are, but they are the reason why I am a fighter today. I attend local events to fundraise money for student school supplies, and offer free tutoring services for English as a Second Language students. My mission in life is to fight for others who do not have opportunities to fight back, which was recognized this summer when honored an educational scholarship for my commitment to “Making a Difference” in the lives of others.…show more content… My hard working roots will continue to develop in the gardens of John Hopkins and will fight for
