I grew up around a lot of abuse. I had drug dealers in my family, and I started down that path real young. When I was 13 I stole some cars, and ended up incarcerated until I turned 18. When it was time for my parole, my dad told the court he didn't want me back. He drove me out 50 miles, told me to get out of his truck, and that was that.

In short, I never knew what it meant to be cared for the right way... how to hold a real job, or be supported by other people. But when I was in a sober living house, a cafe called DV8 offered me a job in the kitchen. DV8 employs felons, helps them put together a resume, and teaches them how to interview for future careers. I slowly worked my way up through every job at the cafe, learning the ins and outs of each one. Once I knew how to do everything, they made me a manager. Just one foot in front of the other, every day.

I can finally say that I love who I am. I believe that God put me in the path of people who wanted me to succeed. My dream is to become a welder, and I know I'm going to get there. I'm training and learning, I'm building my village, I'm practicing my skills.

To me, being American means being there for each other. That's what saved me. The worst part of addiction was that feeling of being alone. We are our best selves when we stand together.