MY STORY
CHILDHOOD
For 17 years, my entire life existed at the intersection of Road 14 and Avenue 24 ½, in the drive-by town of Chowchilla, California. It was there, in the yellow house on the corn field, that I lived with my mom, dad, and four younger siblings. My whole world extended however far the golf cart could take us down the loose gravel country roads—west to the calf ranch, east to the town’s main street, a couple miles north to Tia Donna’s house.
For 17 years, my entire life existed at the intersection of Road 14 and Avenue 24 ½, in the drive-by town of Chowchilla, California. It was there, in the yellow house on the corn field, that I lived with my mom, dad, and four younger siblings. My whole world extended however far the golf cart could take us down the loose gravel country roads—west to the calf ranch, east to the town’s main street, a couple miles north to Tia Donna’s house.
On the treehouse in our backyard with my brother, our imaginations ran wild. We could go anywhere we wanted—made-up lands, outer space, back in time. I loved growing up in a small town, the roads, the fields, they were all a part of my playground growing up. The world was whatever I dreamt it to be. I had space to imagine and to foster creativity and to just be young. Nonetheless, as I got older, traveling in our treehouse wasn’t enough for me anymore. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to meet new people, people different from myself, to interact with beliefs different than my own. I was ready to leave the comfort of home and set out on my own, and so all throughout high school I swore I was going to get out of California for college.
When it came down to it though, there was a strong force keeping me in state—my family. In true Portuguese fashion, my entire extended family was basically a part of my nuclear family. All of the birthdays, the holidays, the traditions, they were all in California. The thought of missing out on the important moments of my siblings growing up was unfathomable. I wasn’t ready to leave that.
When it came down to it though, there was a strong force keeping me in state—my family. In true Portuguese fashion, my entire extended family was basically a part of my nuclear family. All of the birthdays, the holidays, the traditions, they were all in California. The thought of missing out on the important moments of my siblings growing up was unfathomable. I wasn’t ready to leave that.
COLLEGE
So, I ended up in northern California, less than 3 hours from home, at Santa Clara University.
It was a happy accident, maybe even the most important one of my life so far. I’d gone to Catholic school from 1st through 12th grade, but the way SCU’s Jesuit ideology has shaped me as a person is incomparable. I realized I didn’t have to go too far from home for all the experiences I had desired. I was surrounded by people from across the nation. People who thought differently and held different beliefs than I was used to back home. People who found my “farm life” upbringing strange and different. People who challenged me in new ways and exposed me to new opportunities. It’s been a transformational change.
So, I ended up in northern California, less than 3 hours from home, at Santa Clara University.
It was a happy accident, maybe even the most important one of my life so far. I’d gone to Catholic school from 1st through 12th grade, but the way SCU’s Jesuit ideology has shaped me as a person is incomparable. I realized I didn’t have to go too far from home for all the experiences I had desired. I was surrounded by people from across the nation. People who thought differently and held different beliefs than I was used to back home. People who found my “farm life” upbringing strange and different. People who challenged me in new ways and exposed me to new opportunities. It’s been a transformational change.
However, it didn't happen instantly. Coming into college I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. I spent my entire senior year of high school running from all those questions about the future – what are you going to major in? where are you going to go to school? what do you want to do? I didn’t have a clue.
During my freshman year, I felt like I had trouble connecting with people. I made friends, but I missed the deep relationships with friends and family that I had back home. While trying to form all of these relationships from scratch, I quickly realized just how little I knew about myself. As the oldest of five kids, a lot of my life was spent as a sort of third parent. I’d drive an hour to and from high school every day, do my extracurricular activities, shuffle my siblings to practices, and then be studying until late into the night. |
When I came to college, all those extra responsibilities and pressures were suddenly and unexpectedly gone. I was only responsible to myself, and I was given the freedom and time to discover who I was. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I had the space to figure it out.
Then one day my sophomore year, something clicked. I was sitting in class listening to a presentation on vocation. I couldn’t tell you anything else about that day, or even that class, but there’s one moment that is still burned in my mind. My professor clicked to the next the slide and in front of me were the words “where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet”. When I got back to my dorm that day, I scrawled that definition of vocation on a sticky note and slapped it above my desk. It’s been on my wall ever since. In recent months it’s been upgraded from a sticky note to a prominent poster position. It sits there every day, sort of like a compass or roadmap, guiding me back to focus whenever I feel lost.
Then one day my sophomore year, something clicked. I was sitting in class listening to a presentation on vocation. I couldn’t tell you anything else about that day, or even that class, but there’s one moment that is still burned in my mind. My professor clicked to the next the slide and in front of me were the words “where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet”. When I got back to my dorm that day, I scrawled that definition of vocation on a sticky note and slapped it above my desk. It’s been on my wall ever since. In recent months it’s been upgraded from a sticky note to a prominent poster position. It sits there every day, sort of like a compass or roadmap, guiding me back to focus whenever I feel lost.
That class was a major ah-ha moment for me. Suddenly this idea of what I wanted to do with my life was a little more tangible. It’s not just a matter of what I want. It’s a matter of what fuels my heart and what that passion can do for others. Instead of running from questions, I began asking them.
VOCATIONAL DISCERNMENT My dad and uncles are family business owners, so I grew up surrounded by an entrepreneurial mindset. I always loved tagging along with my dad to meetings and listening to him strategize and negotiate. My parents are two of the most hardworking people I've ever met, and I aspired to be as driven, dedicated, and loving as them. Nevertheless, I’d always been weary of pursuing a business degree because I could never envision how I could turn that degree into a career that I was truly passionate about. I don't know how to explain it other than to say that I just didn't feel called to it. |
However, I couldn't think of any alternative option either. As a part of my Catholic education, there was always a huge emphasis on charity. There’d be donation drives at school, and we were always required to do a minimum number of community service hours. (Social justice didn’t even enter into the dialogue until I began my Jesuit education at SCU.) I held a view of business and charity as two opposing worlds, and while I liked aspects of both, neither of them alone appealed to me. So I started asking questions, asking for help with navigating this tension. One day in office hours, I communicated my dilemma to the same professor that had given that impactful presentation on vocation.
“What you’re talking about is social entrepreneurship.”
“Social what?”
This was my very first exposure to the concept of social entrepreneurship, but certainly not the last. It caught my attention, but I didn’t quite see how it could fit into my life at that moment.
The transformational lecture on vocation came at a major turning point in my life. Some personal and family events took place at the beginning of sophomore year, and they left me in a dark place for quite a while. My sense of reality and identity completely and utterly vanished. There were all these things I had grown up taking as fact that were now being called into question.
As hard as it was, I can look back at it now and acknowledge how necessary it was. With the loss of my false reality came the chance to create a new one for myself, on my own terms. The world would no longer be what anyone else told me it was. It would be what I found it to be.
It was around the time of that conversation with my professor and in an effort to begin discovering my true reality that I decided to apply for an immersion trip to Mumbai, India. Those 19 days of engagement and reflection abroad and the prep leading up to them taught me a lot about social justice. I saw poverty unlike anything I’ve encountered before, but I also witnessed some of the most unconditional love, community, and even happiness that extended beyond anything I’ve ever experienced in the U.S. One of my biggest takeaways was that we’re all a lot more alike than we are different. Our differences all come from the same underlying desires and motivations. We often just don't listen long enough or intently enough to realize it.
“What you’re talking about is social entrepreneurship.”
“Social what?”
This was my very first exposure to the concept of social entrepreneurship, but certainly not the last. It caught my attention, but I didn’t quite see how it could fit into my life at that moment.
The transformational lecture on vocation came at a major turning point in my life. Some personal and family events took place at the beginning of sophomore year, and they left me in a dark place for quite a while. My sense of reality and identity completely and utterly vanished. There were all these things I had grown up taking as fact that were now being called into question.
As hard as it was, I can look back at it now and acknowledge how necessary it was. With the loss of my false reality came the chance to create a new one for myself, on my own terms. The world would no longer be what anyone else told me it was. It would be what I found it to be.
It was around the time of that conversation with my professor and in an effort to begin discovering my true reality that I decided to apply for an immersion trip to Mumbai, India. Those 19 days of engagement and reflection abroad and the prep leading up to them taught me a lot about social justice. I saw poverty unlike anything I’ve encountered before, but I also witnessed some of the most unconditional love, community, and even happiness that extended beyond anything I’ve ever experienced in the U.S. One of my biggest takeaways was that we’re all a lot more alike than we are different. Our differences all come from the same underlying desires and motivations. We often just don't listen long enough or intently enough to realize it.
Despite everything I learned through that experience, I left feeling frustrated. The largely one-sided nature of the exchange frustrated me. I came out of the experience with a widened perspective and many personal revelations, but what did those communities gain from me being there? What could I give them? Our group talked about different ways we could assist these communities from back home. Maybe we could create a website to sell their artwork? Maybe we could raise money to supply classrooms with computers? Ideas got thrown around, but everything fell through in one way or another. Nothing stuck.
I also left India with a great sense of powerlessness. I heard first-hand accounts of the corruption within the government. I had a personal experience with the health care system. I witnessed daily life in both slums and remote villages. The injustice frustrated me. What could I really do to help? To really help? How could anyone really make an impact? Sure, we could raise funds to donate computers, but is that really addressing any of the social justice issues we’d been reflecting on? What was I, or anyone, capable of doing to change such large systemic issues?
For a second time, my questions were leading me to social entrepreneurship and, more specifically, to the Global Social Benefit Fellowship. I am thankful for the opportunity to learn about a different approach, one that combines my interests in both business and charity. This summer I’ll be working with PICO Rwanda to formalize business plans for community cooperatives so that they can secure the resources and funding necessary to make their projects a reality. I am looking forward to the opportunity to use my Marketing education to learn alongside the communities and co-create sustainable solutions.
April 2019
I also left India with a great sense of powerlessness. I heard first-hand accounts of the corruption within the government. I had a personal experience with the health care system. I witnessed daily life in both slums and remote villages. The injustice frustrated me. What could I really do to help? To really help? How could anyone really make an impact? Sure, we could raise funds to donate computers, but is that really addressing any of the social justice issues we’d been reflecting on? What was I, or anyone, capable of doing to change such large systemic issues?
For a second time, my questions were leading me to social entrepreneurship and, more specifically, to the Global Social Benefit Fellowship. I am thankful for the opportunity to learn about a different approach, one that combines my interests in both business and charity. This summer I’ll be working with PICO Rwanda to formalize business plans for community cooperatives so that they can secure the resources and funding necessary to make their projects a reality. I am looking forward to the opportunity to use my Marketing education to learn alongside the communities and co-create sustainable solutions.
April 2019