My Story
My relationship with American schooling began as a six-year-old Mexican migrant child sitting in English-only classrooms as a monolingual Spanish speaker without instructional support. I was given worksheets in a language I did not understand, directions and instructions in a language I did not comprehend, and I was expected to perform in a language I did not speak. What I most wanted was not to stand out from everyone else, not to be marked as different. I wanted to be just like every other kid at my school. I wanted to be seen, heard, and accepted for who I was, just as I was.
But I couldn’t stop going to school. My parents reminded my siblings and me that we were in a new country, working toward better opportunities and a better life. We were reminded to try our best in school and echarle ganas because our goal was to learn English so we could excel in our studies, go to college, and eventually land a high-paying job. The stakes were high for a 6-year-old little brown girl trying to survive first grade.
I wish I could say that eventually I found myself fitting in and being seen, heard, and accepted as my authentic self. But American schooling is a beast designed to chew up and spit out all the kids who don’t fit the norm. One way or another, even if you try really hard to be accepted, you are reminded of your difference. No one who is nonwhite can escape the sting of otherness. I carried this baggage throughout my middle and high school years. I was a student in need of culturally sustaining creative arts wellness spaces.
This experience is the genesis of a long history of deficit beliefs surrounding me. Although I did not take them at face value because my parents constantly reminded me that what the outside world was telling me was not true, they still seeped in. The outside world was not reflecting or affirming my homelife, and so the dissonance between those two worlds is what leads many of us to unconsciously internalize them. Without us noticing, they seep into our subconscious, and we operate on them as a given because everything in our outside world supports and affirms them. So it’s us against multiple forces. This led to a disconnection from my creative force, and it dimmed my voice by internalizing external messaging that my story didn't matter or that it wasn’t worthy of celebration. It wasn’t until I got to college that I felt for the first time what it’s like to walk into a classroom that does not hurt you. Instead, every element is intentionally designed to remind you of your brilliance, show you all the strengths you and your communities possess, and listen attentively to your questions, observations, and views.
My first-year writing course with Professor Martinez was the learning space my six-year-old self needed. It was a community of learners where everyone was affirmed as knowledgeable and whose multiple identities were the sources of these knowledges. In that class, I will never forget, I heard for the first time in my schooling life that I was a good writer and had a critical mind. Those words were an unexpected yet deeply needed salve that poured over the years of wounding American schooling had inflicted on me. Many wounds I repressed so much that I did not even know I carried. Thirteen years after sitting in an American classroom for the first time, I was now sitting in an American college class at the University of California being taught college composition by a Chicana professor who saw me, heard me, and not only accepted me, but loved me as only an educator who sees education as the practice of freedom can love their students. Many years have passed, and I have been fortunate enough to cross paths with many educators along my journey who have supported and loved me, sharing their experiences to help me find my path. I now join these educators as their colleague.
Currently, I’m on a mission to interrupt these systems of harm by partnering with educators and institutions as the founder of Sentipensante Connections. This educational consulting practice helps schools, colleges, and nonprofits implement culturally sustaining creative arts wellness spaces where Latina girls and women are seen, heard, and loved. My work builds on years of hands-on experience designing transformative programs, such as Liberando Nuestras Voces, a creative writing and confidence-building initiative for Latina middle school students.
At the heart of everything I do is a deep belief: when we nurture our creative force, we open pathways to healing, connection, and collective thriving.