Eight years later, I still remember that night in the ICU of Manila’s St. Luke’s Hospital when my entire extended family packed into the ward, vying for a final look at the woman who made it all possible. I was too young to know my grandmother Lola. But that night amidst the hugs and tears, the eulogies delivered by my mourning relatives captured my attention. As I listened, captivated, to the stories of her younger days, I quickly learned why the room was so full that night: Virginia Perez de la Cruz never lived a selfish day in her life

ola baked. Out of her little apartment, she ran the gamut of the operations of her little business, enlisting only the help of my mother and her five siblings. She baked in the spring for Christmas. She baked in the winter for Easter. From daybreak until midnight, she didn’t rest until each one of her children left home debt-free, holding a college diploma.

Lola loved. When the tuition increased, she dug into her own savings. When it increased again, she pawned her jewelry. When food was running low, she took an empty plate.

Lola believed. To her, any and everyone had the ability to succeed if they worked hard, given the opportunity. Where did opportunity come from? That was her job. The wind at their back and the ground beneath their feet. Six dedicated, accomplished individuals speak to this philosophy.

I was nine when I heard this. And like lots of kids at that point, I tended to take things for granted: the food in my stomach, the clothes on my back, my good education. But that night, I became the luckiest person in the world when I saw that I am the product of Lola’s labor - the realization of her ultimate goal. While I can never begin to repay my grandmother for her sacrifices, I was reminded to honor her life by using what I have been given to help those who never had a Lola.

Two summers ago, I discovered Su Casa, an organization dedicated to providing Hispanic children in urban Cincinnati with an academic foundation in both Spanish and English. The families who send their children to Su Casa are very much like my mother’s: hardworking, hopeful, and dedicated to the future. I kept this in mind while working as a 1^st grade teacher’s assistant, interacting with the kids and teaching them English through reading, science, math, and art. But I was not just teaching them math facts and arts and crafts. The kids needed to know that someone was there not only to help them with a tough spelling word or math problem, but also to believe in and support them, as Lola did for her own children. I was originally signed up to volunteer two days a week, but I went as much as possible. I wanted to help these kids succeed because they deserved it. Each day, they arrived with remarkable enthusiasm, tackling every activity with joy and gusto. Their intelligence, their positivity, and excitement made the job worthwhile and give me high hopes for the future.

Yet, the reality of the situation is worrisome. It pains me to know that many promising, eager young minds like these do not have a Lola or a Su Casa. By a mere accident of birth, they are denied the chance at a better life. Education is a right, not a privilege: it is a right to life, a right to success, a right to fulfillment that every child deserves. As someone fortunate enough to have learned this at a young age, I find myself in a position of both privilege and duty. As I begin undertaking the college experience and thinking about future plans, I realize now that my true aim, my ultimate goal is to give the next generation what I was given: a strong wind, firm ground and a world to run through. A chance.