I came to the United States when I was 16 years old, carrying a suitcase full of dreams and shaky hope. I didn’t know the language, didn’t understand the culture and I had no idea what path to take. The only thing that was clear was that I was in a new, unfamiliar country and my priorities had changed. Now, I had to work, help support my family and survive.

My first job was at a Burger King. There, I learned to wrap burgers at lightning speed and flip patties with precision. But while my hands worked, my mind wandered. I often thought about everything I had left behind. I wondered if I would ever touch a computer again, if I’d have a second chance to go back to school or even dream of a career.

There were days when the sadness weighed as much as a double shift. I felt frustrated, angry and invisible. Being an immigrant is more than just crossing a border; it’s learning how to live between two worlds without losing yourself. And when you don’t speak the language, everything feels 10 times harder. Your goals begin to fade. It almost seems easier to let go of your dreams and just focus on paying bills and surviving.

But something inside me refused to give up. I started learning English while working. Sometimes I had two jobs, but I never stopped going to class. It was exhausting, of course, but every new word I learned was one more step toward freedom. And one day, I was finally able to hold a conversation in English. That moment changed everything.

Thanks to the encouragement of some amazing people who believed in me, I decided to pursue my GED. I took the classes, studied hard and eventually earned my certificate. That day was one of the most emotional days of my life. It wasn’t just a piece of paper; it was a key, a symbol that it is possible. That even without resources, without the language and with countless challenges, dreams don’t die — they adapt.

With my GED in hand, I started taking college classes and slowly discovered what I wanted to study. It wasn’t easy. Those were years filled with struggles, exhaustion and long days that started before sunrise and ended late at night. But through it all, I never let go of my belief in the power of education.

Education opens doors, yes. But it also gives us power. It gives us freedom. It connects us to what we love and lights a fire inside us. In this country, where everything moves so fast, finding your voice and purpose through learning is an act of resistance and hope.

Today, I’m still studying, with new goals and bigger dreams. I am resilient, and I know so many others like me are too. This story doesn’t end here. It’s just the beginning of something greater.

VOICES ARTery Tiny Stage is an intimate mobile space for music and storytelling. In this event of “HerStory — Strong Women in the Valley,” co-presented by VOICES and Bookcliffs Art Center — and recorded and co-produced live by Creative Archeology — four storytellers from different walks of life in the Colorado River Valley communities shared stories about their origins, their becoming and their way of being, as mother, writer, community leader and creatives. Tune in to KDNK this Friday, Aug. 8 from 6 to 7pm, to hear these stories or find the archive at ​​www.voicesrfv.org/voices-radio-hour