About the Founder

Perhaps of lesser importance is my residence at the time and more compelling is my story that began in this poor, Hispanic village. Though located within Alamo Heights, San Antonio’s most affluent school district, its advantages remained beyond the grasp of those of us living in poverty in the village. My father was employed at San Antonio Portland Cement Company, and our family was provided housing. Upon my parents’ arrival from Mexico, their possessions were few, made of necessities. Determined to give their children a better life, they settled into an existence that, unfortunately, would only grow more desperate in those early days. There in the likelihood of absence of future scholars and inventors lived desperate moms and dads, eager to feed hungry mouths, clothe, and shelter children in what amounted to shotgun houses. As memory serves, theirs was a daily ration of burden and uncertainty; despair and questionable hope, a difficult reality to swallow.

 

In retrospect, little did I know there were gentle souls that lived all around us, illuminating the four corners of the village. On one side, nuns and priests at Missionary Servants of St. Anthony and on the other, a field of educators in Alamo Heights taking on the vocation of building a library worthy of poor souls. From the depths of illiteracy to the surface of mediocrity, the level of aptitude ran the gamut. With a few destined to make it if they worked hard in a field of hope, the expanse of disadvantage.

 

At the age of twelve, I had 10 siblings: 7 brothers and 3 sisters. I am deliberate in choosing this age as it would be a turning point for our family. My father was killed by my schizophrenic step-brother, who resided many years at San Antonio State Hospital. Up to this point, I could only recall my mother in a house dress and unemployed. She did not speak English, nor did she know how to drive and was left a widow with many hungry mouths to feed. I could not begin to understand the loss and loneliness that comes from the realization that dad was the only person in the U.S. who loved and cared for my mom and his children, and he was gone. Yet, I have learned repeatedly, the good in life and the love of strangers were very real possibilities that would one day prevail.

 

I began to dismantle my own fears and insecurities when I was in 10th grade. It was then that I decided I could become anything I wanted to, so long as I applied myself and carried with me the values instilled at home and at school: Honesty, integrity and trustworthiness were among the hallmarks. The inferiority I felt for so many years going to school with a very wealthy student body was no longer an obstacle. But I did not conquer this alone even as there were many hurdles still ahead. Had it not been for my faith, adult role models, a couple of special teachers, I would not be where I am today. It is no surprise to those who know me that even today, I am in close contact with a few of those special individuals who forged my life early on. Mrs. Ann Payne, my fourth-grade teacher, and Mrs. Paula Franz Moore, my 10th-grade government teacher, are among those I owe a debt of gratitude that I cannot repay in my lifetime. Mrs. Mary Lee Durham, my developmental English teacher, was an angel to me.

 

My success stems from a collection of values grounded on respect for others and a strong belief in self-worth. Even as difficult as my early upbringing was, I possessed a winning attitude and a warm personality. My dedication and commitment to promoting success in life was evident by a willingness to continue my educational endeavors. I was the only member of my family to attend college. I worked my way through college, and I graduated from St. Mary’s University with a BBA and later on received my MBA in healthcare.

 

I began my non-profit career with United Way of San Antonio. I was hired as a volunteer recruiter for the Helpline and quickly promoted to Senior Campaign Associate. It was in this role that I would learn much about the San Antonio giving community. Knowing I was a product of those who often received, I relished the idea of giving back and one day paying it forward. It was for this reason I was purposeful in seeking employment with United Way, a community display of goodness and kindness.

 

I thought I was alone in those early years of despair. But I learned that many people around the world live under similar conditions that through no fault of their own are born into despair: poverty, violence, displacement, and lack of opportunity. Clearly, hope is not denial of these realities. It is the commitment to improve them. The overlay of despair creates bitterness, anger, paranoia, and desperation. But I believe we are called to bring hope into those crevices.

 

I must exalt that hope believes children born into difficult circumstances are not permanently defined by them. Where despair spreads, we remind people that the future is still open. Where voices are discouraged, we will protect their right to be heard.