I would like to start out by saying that I am absolutely, genuinely grateful and honored to be receiving this award tonight. Just a few very short years ago, I would never in my wildest dreams have thought that I would be where I am right now, at this very moment in my life, and I’m going to share with you why.

Now what I’m about to say, I’m not going to say because I want you to feel sorry for me or even proud of me. I share my story because I am proof that the hard work and unselfish efforts of people like yourselves, people who are active within the community and just people in general who believe that sometimes all someone like me needs is a chance.

I’ve had an extremely interesting life thus far but until my New York Times bestseller comes out, you’re going to have to settle for the annotated version.

I am a second-generation Mexican American. I am the youngest girl of 13 siblings, two of whom died as a result of gang violence, another two who are currently in prison and of course, I am the only one who has attended college.

Actually, aside from an older brother, I am the only one who gained high school equivalency. I don’t say graduate from high school because I dropped out of high school but later went on to pass the high school equivalency test.

I’ve jumped ahead a little. I know you’re probably already wondering why I ended up dropping out of high school. Well, like all social issues, the reasons are extremely complex, but here goes my version in a nutshell.

As I’ve already said, I’m a second-generation Mexican American, and I grew up poor. My mother left when I was 9 years old. My sister and I were left to care for my 3- and 4-year-old brothers. My sister, who was older, then left about three years later. I had a really tough time when my mom left.

My dad worked day and night to provide for us and that left me with the household so when my sister left, I had no one. I turned to friends who happened to be gang members.

We lacked positive role models, but gangsters we had plenty of, so that’s who helped raise me.

I was 12 years old when I began my life of crime. I began with the usual stuff. Ditching school, petty larceny, running away from home, but then the seriousness gradually escalated. I was often a runaway, so I decided to break into houses. I learned how to steal cars and pretty much steal anything I could get my hands on. And it didn’t take me long to be sentenced to a long-term juvenile detention facility. Nine months later, at about the age of 14, I was released back into my life.

This is where I have to say that although time and time again I’ve heard that luck is nothing more than preparedness meeting opportunity, I have to disagree to a certain extent. Although I can agree that there is something within myself that desired something beyond what I was given, had I not been lucky, or destined or blessed, whatever we want to call it, had I not been given a parole officer who believed in me, had I not been told by people time and time again that they saw something different in me, I would not be here today. There is definitely a mix of my light shining through and people seeing that light, but I have to also admit that these people had to first care enough to pay attention to that light.

And this is where you all come in. This is where I come in. There are too many young people that have this light that is slowly dying because they are not being given the opportunities that I was given. They are not being prepared to meet these opportunities. Opportunity means nothing if there is no one there to help our young people identify and then take advantage of the opportunities that are out there.

I was asked during my interview what my aha! moment was. That moment is where you figure out that something has to change. And it took me a while to figure it out, but then all of a sudden, it popped into my head.

Here’s that moment. It happened when I was leaving the detention facility and there was a myth that went around. The myth was that if you turned back to look at the facility as you were being driven away, you would be back. And when I was leaving, I knew I didn’t want to go back. I just knew that I was destined for something different.

So as we drove away, I focused on the headrest so hard my eyes watered, they burned, I didn’t even want to blink. I can see that moment so clearly, I remember the look of the tan plastic, the stitching on the headrest, all the while telling myself that I couldn’t go back, I just couldn’t go back. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I was going to try. And then I went out and into the world and people just like you saw my light.

So my message tonight is not for you to remember me, but remember my story and remember that there is so much light out there and it’s our duty to find it. My light was found and me standing here at this podium is more evidence of that than I could have ever imagined. And now I’ll be heading back to the state where I was first incarcerated to attend UNLV Law School, where I was awarded a scholarship that will cover 75 percent of my tuition. So for that I thank you. And I thank you for taking the time to be here tonight.

Without a lot of people and organizations, but especially the Mexican American Alumni Association, Mr. Raul Vargas, Dolores Sotelo and Domenika Lynch, I wouldn’t have made it this far. If you only knew all the times that I thought I couldn’t go on and yet here I am. Thank you also to Billy Vela from El Centro and my mentor and great friend, Dr. Ann Crigler, who couldn’t be here tonight. Thank you, thank you.