2023 Power of Resilience Scholarship Winner: Valeria Maya
Valeria Maya is a resilient and accomplished individual, marking her presence as a first-generation Latina with a remarkable journey. At 30 years old, Valeria currently serves as a department supervisor at an immigration law firm, a role she embraced after dedicating eight years as a paralegal. Originally from Mexico, she moved to the United States at the age of 5, shaping her unique perspective and tenacious spirit.
Valeria’s roots are in metro Atlanta, but she now calls Hiram, GA, her home. Juggling a demanding schedule, she successfully balances full-time work, full-time school, and the responsibilities of being a devoted mother to two children, aged 13 and 10. Despite life’s challenges, Valeria remains steadfast in her pursuit of higher education and professional growth.
Currently pursuing a BBA in Management with a minor in Business Law, Valeria is set to graduate in December 2024. Her aspirations reach even further, with plans to attend law school in the fall of 2025. Eager to overcome the hurdles on her path, Valeria is preparing to take the LSAT in April 2024, showcasing her commitment to achieving her dreams.
Beyond her academic and professional endeavors, Valeria finds joy in travel and dedicates time to the soccer field, embodying the essence of the ultimate soccer mom. Her life experiences have been challenging, yet she firmly believes in the power of resilience, a belief that has undoubtedly propelled her toward success. As she continues to navigate her journey, Valeria remains an inspiring example of determination, hard work, and the unwavering belief that resilience can transform challenges into triumphs.
Valeria on Winning:
Winning the Power of Resilience Scholarship from the Law Offices of Scott Glovsky is an absolute honor for Valeria Maya. With a deep sense of gratitude, Valeria expresses her heartfelt thanks to the Glovsky Law Firm for their commitment to supporting students, especially during challenging times. Valeria, having faced her share of personal and professional challenges, understands the significance of resilience in navigating life’s storms. The firm’s dedication to advocating for the rights of individuals resonates with her own journey, and she is inspired by the values embodied by Scott Glovsky. Valeria is eager to contribute to society, just as the Glovsky Law Firm does in times of need. She is truly thankful for this invaluable opportunity and is committed to embodying the spirit of resilience in her future endeavors.
Valeria’s Winning Essay:
In 2011, I graduated high school with a 4.547 GPA—a result of hard work and dedication. The catch? I graduated high school in 2011. As I prepared college applications to the University of Georgia (“UGA”) and Georgia Tech, my safety schools, I felt immense relief, thinking that my hard work had paid off. On October 13, 2010, the Board of Regents enacted a policy rendering individuals not lawfully present in the United States ineligible for admission to any USG institution. That night, I emailed my counselor the news article as he finalized my recommendation letter to UGA for the early decision deadline that week. The following morning, my counselor, with a mix of concern and disbelief in his expression, silently mouthed, “Are you undocumented?” As I responded affirmatively out loud, the trajectory of my life shifted unexpectedly. Recommendations were put on hold, and my dream of attending college seemed to crumble. Undeterred, I applied to private colleges in Georgia, even though their cost was beyond my means. Despite graduating in the top 1% of my class and completing the most rigorous academic program in the state, I found myself unable to pursue a higher education after high school.
Raised with the belief that hard work would pave the way for my dreams, I refused to let my immigration status define me. Despite the challenges, I maintained an image of equality, concealing my undocumented status from my former classmates. After graduation, I faced a stark reality—I had no choice but to enter the workforce at a minimum wage job as a Sandwich Artist at Subway. That same year, I unfriended all my classmates as they went off to college because I feared being questioned about my career path—or, rather, the lack thereof. I never felt shame, but rather a concern that others might perceive my journey with pity.
In 2013, two years after high school, I reluctantly abandoned my private college aspirations due to financial constraints. Marrying and becoming a parent, I faced the harsh reality that seemed to dictate my future as a female immigrant from Mexico.
However, with the introduction of DACA, I secured a part-time job at a bank, and in 2015, I found my calling at an immigration law firm. During the interview, I boldly proclaimed my love of learning, earning an instant hire. My colleague, Jessica Colotl, an emblematic figure in the DACA narrative, guided me as I immersed myself in the world of immigration law.
Driven by the same determination that defined my academic pursuits, I progressed from a legal assistant to a paralegal within two years—breaking barriers as the first paralegal at the firm without a bachelor’s degree. On February 27, 2017, I became a lawful permanent resident, marking a pivotal moment in my journey. Despite this achievement, my pursuit of education that never faltered continued to face numerous challenges.
A month after obtaining my lawful permanent residence, I applied to Kennesaw State University, overcoming the six-year gap since high school. As a “nontraditional adult student”, merit scholarships and Zell Miller/HOPE eluded me. However, I was not going to let something else stand in my path to obtaining a higher education. That fall, I enrolled in school part-time, taking out student loans to finance my education.
While attending school on and off, I continued my career as an immigration paralegal where I ascended to senior positions, remaining transparent about my lack of a degree to my recruiter. The persistent questions from my colleagues about why I wasn’t considering law school weighed on me, but I deflected them, unwilling to disclose my incomplete education for fear of pity, once again. Nevertheless, I had reached a point of contentment in my life. I had proven to myself that hard work indeed pays off. I found fulfillment in a career where I excelled with my high school diploma, achieving what others were accomplishing with a bachelor’s or master’s degree. Finally, I experienced the equality I had yearned for my whole life.
Everything changed on August 29, 2023, the day my oldest sister passed away. Grieving her loss, I became the legal guardian of her two children. Witnessing the challenges faced by my sister, who remained undocumented until her death, ignited a profound determination within me. The calls I made to hospices, advocating for her rights regardless of legal status, revealed the imperative need for compassionate representation. It was the first instance in my life where I disclosed her absence of legal status, seeking compassion, a deviation from the resilience I had upheld throughout my entire life.
The loss of my sister was a turning point that deepened my commitment to advocacy. Through her struggles and my advocacy for her rights, I realized the pressing need for legal representation that extends beyond cold bureaucracy, recognizing the humanity of each individual, irrespective of their legal status.
After her death, I decided that I was going to finish my bachelor’s degree, driven not by professional obligation but by my steadfast dedication to pursuing law school. My experiences as a senior immigration paralegal, my trajectory from a minimum wage job to the legal profession, and the loss of my sister have coalesced into a resolute commitment to continue my educational journey. My sister’s legacy fuels my passion to advocate for immigrants’ rights and dignity, ensuring that every individual, regardless of status, is afforded decency in their final moments. I am not just seeking a degree; I am embarking on a journey to amplify the voices of those who are often silenced by systemic barriers.