Content Warning: This piece contains mentions of suicide.
Mental health advocacy isn’t just something I do — it’s who I am. My journey began long before I found Active Minds, back when I was seven years old and lost my babysitter to suicide. That moment made me a suicide survivor before I could even understand the weight of what had happened. As I grew older, I not only understood the gravity of suicidal ideation, but also experienced it myself. Growing up queer and neurodivergent in a conservative household shaped by Mexican and Middle Eastern traditions, I faced mental illness in an environment where silence and stigma often replaced the support I needed.
Being the eldest sibling also came with its own responsibilities. I wanted better for my younger sisters: more understanding, more resources, and more compassion than I had. Keeping them at the forefront of my priorities, I began advocating for mental health support at home. That commitment to making a safer environment for my family planted the seed for a wider mission to cultivate inclusive spaces of care wherever I went.
That seed found ground when I joined UCLA’s Active Minds chapter. For the first time, I had the infrastructure to take what had always been personal and make it collective. Active Minds gave me more than a platform — it gave me a community. My story no longer felt like a burden. Instead, it became a bridge, connecting me to others who needed to hear, “You matter here.”
As Advocacy Director in my chapter and a pioneer in other mental health spaces on campus, I launched projects that spoke to students who are often overlooked. I organized a Neurodivergent Resource Hub and Awareness Week, hosted queer movie nights, created campus-wide surveys on access to mental health resources, and co-led annual conferences that explored how mental health intersects with culture, art, and basic needs. I also worked alongside Residential Life, external partners, and other student organizations to shift how our campus viewed mental health, especially for minority students. Each project reminded me that stories like mine — shaped by resilience, difference, and survival — are not only valid but essential to creating change.
When I stepped into the role of Executive Director, my purpose in Active Minds deepened. Suddenly, I was overseeing all of our chapter’s committees: education, workshops, advocacy, outreach, marketing, radio, membership, finance, corporate relations, logistics, and interns. It was overwhelming at times, but it also showed me just how much impact we could have when we worked together. At the heart of it all was the same mission: cultivating safe, inclusive spaces where every student feels seen and supported. Our chapter intentionally opens its doors to everyone, whether they are queer, students of color, neurodivergent, or anyone who has ever felt like they were carrying their story alone.
So why am I staying involved? Because I know the difference it makes. Active Minds gave me the structure to turn my lived experience into meaningful action, and I want others to have that same opportunity. I’ve seen the relief in students’ eyes when they realize they are not alone. I’ve seen them share their stories for the first time, find support, and begin to believe that change is possible. Those moments remind me why this work matters.
Advocacy isn’t always easy. It means challenging the perpetuating stigma that lingers in families, communities, and institutions. It means demanding policies and practices that prioritize mental health. But every step forward — every event, every conversation, every new initiative — is proof that we can build something better than the silence many of us grew up with.
I stay with Active Minds because my journey has never been just my own. It belongs to the communities I serve: my siblings, my peers, queer students, students of color, first-generation students, and neurodivergent students who deserve to thrive in spaces where mental health is valued, not hidden. Continuing this work means carrying forward the lessons of my past while helping to create a safer present for others.
My story may have started in silence and grief, but through Active Minds, it has become one of connection, advocacy, and hope. And that’s why I’ll keep going.
