Dear Dr. Figueroa,

You may not be a celebrity, but you’re a star in my eyes. I used to idolize rappers and professional athletes until I understood the importance of admiring people who stand for something much bigger than themselves. This is an important concept to grasp, especially in a world where reality television stars get significantly more media coverage than civil rights activists and scholars.

While I still very much admire LeBron James, you taught me to educate myself and learn about individuals who made it possible for people like us to thrive in this world. Souls such as Dr. King, James Baldwin, Rosa Parks, Sojourner Truth and Mildred Loving. Most importantly, had it not been for you, I’d still believe what my 5th-grade history book taught me; how Christopher Columbus discovered America.

To say the odds were stacked against you upon birth is an understatement. I think society gave you no chance whatsoever to become the woman you are today. Born in 1980’s Hoboken before it became gentrified, grandpa and grandma made just enough money combined to put food on the table for four kids. In addition to the financial disadvantages, your public school administrators encouraged you to apply for community college upon high school graduation because a four-year university would be much too challenging for a young Latina like yourself. Little did they know who you were and who you were going to become.

Of course, you didn’t do what you were told and went ahead applying to the best universities in the country. You wouldn’t be yourself if you didn’t follow your heart. Not only did you go on to become the first person in our ginormous family to graduate from college, receiving a Bachelor of Arts Degree from Rutgers University. You decided to further your education at the University of California, Berkeley and received a Ph.D. in Ethnic Studies.

I wish there was a way you could’ve foreseen the future during your senior year of high school. If there was, you could’ve told those teachers and advisors who doubted you, “you’ll be calling me Dr. Figueroa in eight years.” I wonder how hard they would’ve laughed in your face. Then again, maybe you did know your fate the entire time and just thought that they were the ones who were funny. There’s no need to have the last laugh if you’ve been laughing the entire time. God must be a comedian at heart.

These days we’re truly blessed. Now you’re a professor at Michigan State University, and I’m about to become the third person in our family to graduate from college. I don’t think there’s a way to repay you for everything you’ve done for me. Your guidance, spirit, passion, and enthusiasm has inspired me to begin writing again. This inspiration stems from observing your actions and the way you give back to this world, which in the end is all that matters. Thank you so much for being the greatest aunt ever and installing in my mind that sometimes, your vision is bigger than the bigger picture.

Love your favorite nephew,

Isaiah Diaz-Mays.