Born in Colombia, I was the youngest of seven children. When I was five, my mother died and an older sister took me in. Within a couple of years, I had to move again, this time to an orphanage. It had become clear to social services that my sister could not care for me or her other children. I was in the streets begging for or stealing food. My sister was constantly leaving us in a room with no food, water, or electricity. I was forced to sneak out of a small window to find food for us. Left in such a vulnerable situation, I was subject to physical and emotional harm.
Even in those dark days, I experienced small acts of kindness and generosity from strangers, many of whom were also struggling to meet basic needs and find safety on the streets. These moments formed a personal mantra I would repeat to myself: “One day, I will end homelessness.”
After three years in the orphanage, I was adopted by a wealthy family in Virginia. Though my circumstances had changed, I stayed focused on my goal of ending poverty by becoming an active volunteer and fierce advocate. When people urged me to just be grateful and accept that life was unfair, I pushed back. I am a big believer that it doesn’t matter who you are. No person should go without food, water, or shelter. Those are basic human rights, not something you need to earn.
