I grew up in Sacramento, California, but I spent the most important years of my life in San Bernardino, so I consider it my hometown. Right now, I’m a student at UC Berkeley, but my journey to higher education hasn’t been the usual one.
During my senior year of high school, I was struggling with academic expectations and dealing with bullying. On top of that, my relationship with my father was falling apart. We fought constantly, and I kept moving back and forth between his house and my mom’s. This stress and instability made me feel even more depressed. I began skipping school, and I ended up in juvenile hall. My grades dropped from a 3.3 GPA to a 1.4 GPA. My parents and school stepped in to help, and I was admitted into the Sutter Psychiatric Hospital. The therapy I received, along with the friendships that I gained, helped me tremendously. I remember sitting alone at a table in the lounge area, feeling nervous and out of place. Then, a girl walked up to me, smiled, and said, "Hey, do you want to watch a movie with us in the group therapy room?" In that moment, my anxiety melted away. It was such a simple act, but it made me feel seen—like I wasn’t alone.
