Gloria Anzaldúa recognizes a linguistic border that multilinguals have to navigate constantly–a battle between self and other that sits at the heart of who we are. In classrooms, if we have a border and want to “build a bridge” there needs to be a crossing of borders. As a former middle school math and science teacher, I have experienced firsthand the beauty of my students' lived experiences and the consequences of the deliberate erasure of their language, identity, and culture in the classroom. It’s through work with my community that I continue to dream as a researcher. And as a researcher, I stand firmly in the belief that my work needs to give more back to the community than what I take. I situate myself intimately with the research that I am involved with, which in return can create a bias towards my students and my community. A bias that I don’t need to be convinced that they are linguistically powerful, culturally beautiful, or academically gifted. Eso ya lo se. I return to this community so that I can show everyone else what I see. Although I’ve formally left my position as a teacher, aún mantengo lazos profundos con la comunidad en la que realizo mi investigación; I continue to serve in the community as a mentor, substitute teacher, and tutor in the same community I research with. In my broader community, I serve as a tutor for adults learning English as an additional language and teacher for newcomer students in high school, where I’ve been shaped by the stories, struggles, and triumphs of the learners I work with. Ellos demuestran constantemente una verdadera humildad y comprensión sobre la belleza y dificultades de la vida. 

Throughout my educational journey I carry with me my Mexican heritage, my God, and my language—my identity—as it seeps into who I research and why. These identities provide an intimate connection with my students and my community that I am researching with. I also carry my positionality as a doctoral student at Stanford University and a U.S. educated Chicana of which, through my schooling, I have learned to speak English like a colonizer and Spanish like someone who has been colonized. 

Al reflexionar sobre mi camino, me doy cuenta de que mi historia no es tan diferente a los demás. Aunque estas historias son profundamente personales para mí, no son únicas. Para mis padres (y muchas familias inmigrantes), la pregunta nunca fue “¿qué podría hacer?”, sino “¿qué tenía que hacer?” Para ellos, soñar con lo que podría ser es un lujo. Para mis padres, yo estoy viviendo el “sueño americano”. Para mí, estoy viviendo para ellos. Siempre lucharé por la liberación del lenguaje en las aulas de STEM porque tengo el amor de mi familia (a quienes debo mi vida), mis estudiantes y mi comunidad Latinx.