Ripping off the Band-Aid and trying to make real change
From an early age, I had a strong sense of right and wrong. I remember the sting of feeling unjustly punished at home or in school, instinctively mounting my own defense. This passion for justice and advocacy prompted adults around me to suggest, “You should be a lawyer.” Yet, growing up in a family of generations of farmworkers, I had no real concept of what that even looked like. The idea seemed foreign and unreachable until I saw the TV show Living Single and the character Maxine Shaw, a Black female attorney. For the first time, I realized that people of color—people like me—could be lawyers. Until that realization, most of the professionals I had encountered—teachers, social workers, doctors—did not look like me. Seeing a person of color as a lawyer on screen made it seem possible for me too.
Growing up in Camden, New Jersey, where most of my neighbors and family lived well below the poverty line, I became acutely aware of the struggles that come with being working poor. I often overheard adults in my community talk about their mistreatment by employers—stories of wage theft, unsafe working conditions, and outright discrimination. I distinctly remember my mother coming home in tears after a coworker yelled at her, “We speak English here!” simply for speaking Spanish to a colleague. That heartache my mother experienced weighed heavily on me and fueled my desire to make a difference.
Determined to stand up for people like my mother, like those in my community, I decided to become a lawyer.
As a poor Puerto Rican girl from Camden, I wasn’t sure if it was even possible. But my mother’s words echoed in my mind: “Where you come from doesn’t determine where you end up as much as who you are does.” I believed her, and that belief guided me toward focusing my practice on employment and civil rights law.
However, after practicing in this field, it often felt like I was putting a Band-Aid on a much deeper wound. For every favorable outcome I reached, ten more clients with similar grievances would come through the door. I realized that I wanted to have a more significant impact, to help shape workplace systems so that everyone—regardless of background—could be respected, safe, and fairly compensated. This realization led me to transition into being a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) practitioner, where I could work on transforming workplaces and making them equitable for all.
