I grew up in a quiet and hilly immigrant suburb of Los Angeles; South San Gabriel. It was comprised of mostly Latino or Asian immigrants who had recently immigrated to the United States. The people were humble and hard working. Our parents worked tirelessly so that we could make it farther than they could; eramos el animo de todo—the American Dream, incarnate. I remember as a little girl feeling so intensely grateful to this country. My parents did not have much more than a third-grade education, so getting past third grade felt like a victory.

The earliest memory I have of the Marine Corps is around junior high school. The Silent Drill Platoon came to our community and put on a performance, and I remember how impressed I was at how perfect they were. It brought on curiosity. I would go to the library and read about the Marine Corps; the history and the training. It seemed like an impossibility, that a 5 foot nothing, little Latina like me could ever actually become a Marine, but I knew I had to try. I possess none of the hard qualities that you would expect from a Marine—I am not super-fast or strong, I get lost easy, and I get seasick—but it was the intangible qualities that made me (and kept me) successful. It was those Latina superpowers that got me through—the doggedness, the tenacity, the drive, the work ethic—all the things that I saw in the community I grew up in came into play.