A daughter of Peruvian emigres and a first-generation student who graduated Penn last week offers a simple message to other Latin members of the Class of 2025: Never give up.
Dancing saved me.
In salsa, I found joy, healing, and freedom. In the loneliest days when I first came to the University of Pennsylvania — the oldest daughter of two immigrant parents and the first to attend college — it was in dance where I rediscovered myself, where I felt free, where I knew — I was meant to be here.
Like so many other students of Latin American descent, my graduation is the culmination of a long journey. My parents left everything behind in Perú — their home, sus familias, their language, their roots — all for the hope of something better. Not just for themselves, but for the generations to come.
And that sacrifice … I will never forget. In my darkest moments, when I felt like giving up, when I was too tired to keep going, I thought of them.
Of their strength. Of their courage. Of their love.
And it reminded me: that strength also lives in me.
I am a first-generation, low-income college student. La primera de mi familia en graduarse de la universidad. But I know I won’t be the last. Because behind me a whole generation of dreamers, fighters, and leaders is coming.
I come from Paterson, N.J. — a city with many difficulties, but also with a lot of life, a lot of culture, and a lot of dignity. The kind of place people overlook. But it built me.
To think that someone like me could make it from there to here — to the University of Pennsylvania, an Ivy league institution — still feels surreal.
The Class of 2025 made it here against all odds.
We graduated from high school during a pandemic — a time filled with fear, uncertainty, and pain. The world was dark. But we kept going. And now, we’re graduating into another kind of darkness.
A world that questions our worth. With policies that make us feel like we don’t belong.
A country where immigrant communities are under attack.
But let me tell you something:
We are still here. We are graduating. And that is resilience.
This diploma is more than a piece of paper.
It’s tangible evidence of every sleepless night.
Of every hidden tear.
Of every sacrifice made for our families.
Of every time we felt we couldn’t, but did it anyway.
At Penn, I’ve had the privilege to wear many hats and take part in many student organizations post-pandemic.
But let me be real with you.
There were moments I wanted to quit. Moments where I questioned my worth, my character, my light.
But even then … I kept going. Because I know who I am. I poured love, grace, and dedication into everything I touched. Because my parents didn’t raise me to be small. Because they didn’t raise me to quit. They raised me to believe in myself. In my character. In my dignity. In my resilient Latin nature. And despite the hatred, I kept going.
And to those who tried to turn off my light … here I am. Shining brighter than ever.
Because the struggle, el amor, and the faith that brought me here — they don’t fade. They just grow.
But I could not have done this without all of the people who stayed and loved me when I couldn’t love myself. To those who listened when I couldn’t speak. To those who reminded me I was never truly alone.
Class of 2025 — we did this. We are the first class to fully experience college life post-pandemic. We brought life back to this campus. We filled the gap that was left to make sure our Latino community was still present. We brought back organizations, started new ones, and created community in places that weren’t made for us. We carried the legacies left behind and built our own.
And no matter what the world tries to tell us — we know our worth. So as we step into this next chapter, I want to leave you with this:
Be bold. Be you. Confía en ti. This world needs people like us — who love hard, who work harder, who know struggle, but never give up.
Use this education — this privilege — to make change. To open doors for others. To build the world our parents dreamed of when they crossed borders and oceans.
To our parents: This achievement is as much yours as it is ours. Thank you for sacrificing, for enduring, for never giving up.
Thank you for teaching us to dream.
Thank you for loving us beyond belief.
They tried to make us feel like we didn’t belong. But here we are. Graduating. Fighting. Living.
And dancing, too.