I am privileged to be among those who find themselves underrepresented and over exaggerated in the media. Like my ethnicity only matters when it can be used to increase the comedic effect, or bring up the topic of drug abuse. It is easy to become disheartened when you can likely rattle off hundreds of Anglo-American artists and creators, and count the number of Latino creators and artists you know of on one hand. The idea subconsciously sets in that unless you belong to white America, your prospects of success are slimmer than usual. It’s hard to imagine that the world is open to you when you can’t see yourself reflected anywhere in it. Feeling like perhaps you are merely a plot device, incapable of living extraordinarily or creating anything noteworthy.

The only reprieve I have found from the oversexualized housekeepers or thuggish construction workers that are repeatedly imposed on us as the image of what my community represents, are the few true Hispanic characters and creators. To watch others, whom you identify with, succeed in fields you have always imagined yourself in, strengthens the will to succeed on your own. It is much easier to understand that the world has not closed its doors to you when you see that it has not closed its doors to others like you. Coming to the conclusion that you can enrich the world, even if it doesn’t think you can. Seeing that there are writers who recognize the complexity of your people and the things they can achieve, and the reality of their experiences.

Lin-Manuel Miranda has gotten a lot of recognition in the media recently for a musical he wrote about a great American historical figure. His success has been explosive and well-deserved. Prior to this, he created a musical centered around the Latino community in New York City. Combining the telling of their respective stories, to the stories of their heritage. Where I come, lives a man named Benjamin Alire Sáenz . Who wrote a book that takes place in my own hometown, with characters not unlike myself, in more ways than one. Their works have enabled me to see myself with an influence in the world, no matter where I come from, or where my family comes from. And see that people like me can live, and fall in love, and be more than the pronunciation of our last names.

The world, possibly unintentionally, tells me, and people like me, that our stories don’t matter, that our pickings are slim, and our options limited. I will not comply with the idea that I should do menial tasks for the rest of my life. I want my work to make a difference in the lives of those who have experienced what it means to somehow be invisible and overexposed. When you see yourself once again portrayed as the sexy maid or the underpaid worker. Experiencing the sensation of reading an endless number of European names on a bookshelf, and then finally spotting one that looks a little like yours. I want to be that last name. Spark hope in the hearts of anyone who feels like it might be impossible to be somebody, and add to the list of reasons it couldn’t be.