Valeria Gomez Blog

Finding Normalcy in the Fragility of Life
June 1, 2020

The biggest lesson I have learned this year is that every day is a new opportunity. Every day gives us the opportunity to start, whether that be to start over, start changing, or simply to start. This year has been the most difficult year of my life and I am most proud of my resilience. My ultimate goal is to become an attorney so that I am able to have the opportunity to give back to my family and to my community, to whom I owe so much. 

Two days before the start of my sophomore year, I was in a fatal car accident that stole the life of my friend and forever changed my life. I had never confronted death closely before – much less someone my own age. I suddenly realized that nothing in life is certain, and began grappling with grief, depression, anxiety, and survivor’s guilt. I previously had an innate faith that things were going to work themselves out because I felt that I had a purpose, but the accident and death of my friend took that away from me. Although I continue to struggle with overcoming all of these emotions, I realized that I had to move forward and fight through in order to achieve my goals. I was in a state of shock for months and sometimes I would break down in the middle of class, but I continued to show up. I still cannot put into words how I was able to get through those first few months, but I know that the biggest reason was because of my support system.   

My mother has taught me the value of persistence and empowered me to chase my dreams no matter what. The day after I told my Law School Yes We Can mentors about the accident, one of my mentors came to visit my mother and I just to see me and reminded me of everything I had to live and fight for. My mentors are a vital piece of my support system because they are people who are like me, have been through what I am going through, and are doing things that one day I hope to achieve. I am so grateful for them, because I know that whatever challenges I face, I will not go through them alone. They are advisors, friends, role models, and my champions.  

The start of the new year brought me hope, goals, and motivation. Having goals is a form of having faith; having faith in the future, yourself, and your dreams. I began to feel more confident in myself and my coping mechanisms, and then a global pandemic broke loose. Coronavirus disrupted any sense of normalcy I was beginning to feel. Living through this pandemic has felt like a surreal reality, which is a state that I very much existed in after the accident. Transitioning to online school has been more difficult than I anticipated, as those feelings of anxiety, helplessness, and depression tried to seep back into my life, as they have with many other people whose families have been affected.  

There have been many times that I have wanted to give up because frankly, it would be easier than having to go through the process of healing, adapting, and learning who I am after a series of traumatic events. However, I am committed to addressing my grief. It took a long time for me to accept the fact that life goes on. We have no choice but to move forward by adapting to the circumstances we endure. This is when it is most important to remember that every day is a new opportunity to try again.  

As a first-generation Latina student, I am accustomed to being underrepresented, but I will not conform to that. I come from generations of poverty and an immigrant family pursuing the American Dream. I have learned that life is uncertain and fragile, and everything can change in the blink of an eye, but for that very reason, we ought to be thankful for all successes, even those that seem insignificant. I continue to be committed to pursuing my goal of becoming a successful Latina attorney to serve my family, community, and to open doors for others, and I could not do it without the support of my loving mentors who accompany me every step of the way. 

What Time has Taught Me
July 2, 2019

Every day is different, but they all start the same. I always worry about not getting enough sleep, but never make the most of the hours in which I should be sleeping. As I slide out of bed, I can’t wait until I reunite with it. Somehow, it’s already 7:48 by the time I spray my perfume, and I rush to pull my shoes on, in order to be on time to my 8am class. Throughout the first year of my college education, the ideas and themes introduced to me in class are often big, and self-important, but I get anxious when I think of how and when to solve the issues of the world. Time is a funny thing, because the more I think about it, the more I wonder where it has all gone. I cannot believe that I am weeks away from being through my first year, and yet, some weeks have felt endless. If there is one thing that I have learned from time, it is that it waits for no one - it is truly the most independent thing in this world - and my greatest struggle is abiding and conforming to it.

I pause, to glance at my phone and check the time, and notice a call from my mom in the middle of class. It’s 9:25. I take it outside. She asks if she can withdraw money from my bank account for my monthly bills, and asks if I can pay for my little brother’s tuition. I say yes, and tell her I’m hanging up now. She tells me about my grandmother; she’s developing dementia. My mom bursts into tears, and I accept the fact I will be missing the rest of class, as well as work. In Mexican culture, your family is as much an obligation as religion; it is simply an unspoken expectation that you be present for them. I help my mom with everything I can, from managing my little brother’s high school experience to simple things like helping her make online payments. It can be taxing, and especially emotionally draining. Yet, I could never imagine a day in which I am not there for my mom. She has worked so hard to give me everything, and to me, helping her is a form of gratitude.

I have known that I have wanted to be an attorney since the age of eight, but as I drive to meet my mentor team for a noon lunch, I wonder to myself for the first time if my grandmother will be there to see it become a reality. As I meander meekly over to lunch, I can’t help but break down while I encumber my mentor team with my life happenings. Expectations are a form of pseudo-reassurance we use in order to make ourselves believe that we know what is coming in the future, to make us confident in the unknown. My mentors are people who understand me emphatically and empathetically; they are sympathetic and full of heartfelt advice and support. I can’t say I did not have expectations for the LSYWC program, but my mentors have fostered a comforting space in which I can come into as my most vulnerable self, which goes beyond the expected professional advice I thought I would receive.

I visited with my family for the remainder of my day, which evidently made me miss class, and a shift at my second job. After a fifteen hour day, I could finally fall into my bed and rest from the responsibilities that befall me. I worry about my grandmother, my mother, my siblings, but most of all, I wonder how to balance the time I spend with them as well as with everything else I have to do. If it were up to my mom, she would have me stay forever. 

I am almost never able to go to sleep before midnight, and sleep is the antithesis of productivity of homework, but I can’t focus knowing my mom is crying at the feet of my grandmother’s bed. Family is one of the most complicated systems we will ever navigate, and there has never been a simple and comprehensive manner of dealing with them. I fill so many different roles in my life, but the one I am the most proud of is the one that is immeasurable. It is the one in which I can make jokes, and fight for. It is the one that is the most emotionally depleting, yet the most rewarding. I know everyone says that life is short, and before you know it, you’re out of time, but although time waits for no one, it is a patient entity. It gives us time to become ourselves - time to learn what really matters to us. And, although none of these lessons can go on my resume, the time that I spend developing them is what truly makes me who I am, and in my eyes, it is what defines me. 

“Sí, Se Puede” is a phrase born of farmworkers, who, under the leadership of the UFW, César Chávez, and Dolores Huerta, fought valiantly for equal protection under the law. As a result of the efforts of the UFW, “Sí, Se Puede” has become well known as a call that engenders hope and inspiration in those who face similar battles. We thank the UFW, whom we acknowledge to be the sole and exclusive owner of the Trademark SI SE PUEDE, for granting us a limited license to use“Sí, Se Puede” in connection with our efforts to recruit, in Colorado, students of Hispanic or Latino descent for our law school pipeline program. For more information about the programs offered by the UFW, please see UFW’s webpage (www.ufw.org); UFW Foundation’s webpage (www.ufwfoundation.org); and UFWF’s immigration services webpage (www.sisepuede.org)