Grow­ing up just 25 min­utes from the Mex­i­can bor­der with his moth­er in La Mesa, Cal­i­for­nia, Luis lived a life split between two coun­tries and two very dif­fer­ent real­i­ties. Three days a week, he crossed into Mex­i­co to stay with his father. While geog­ra­phy divid­ed his time, it was acceptance—or the lack there­of —that defined his child­hood.

From an ear­ly age, Luis knew he was bisex­u­al. In Cal­i­for­nia with his moth­er, that truth was embraced. But in Mex­i­co with his father, it became a source of pro­found pain. “I felt like I was going there just sit­ting because I was his son. He was­n’t emo­tion­al­ly present,” Luis reflect­ed.

The rejec­tion was root­ed in what Luis describes as machis­mo culture—rooted in expec­ta­tions that men should be strong, fierce and force­ful. “When a son comes out, it affects the father most of all – even though not all gay men act fem­i­nine,” he explains.

He remem­bers being a lit­tle boy, paint­ing his nails black with a Sharpie while play­ing with friends. His father’s response was imme­di­ate and cut­ting: “That’s what a girl does. I did­n’t have a daugh­ter. I had a son. Don’t act like a girl.”

Now a col­lege stu­dent, Luis no longer speaks to his father. But those years of rejec­tion became some­thing else — a call­ing. “I want to advo­cate for peo­ple who are forced to live with par­ents who don’t accept them. Every day of every year,” Luis says with qui­et deter­mi­na­tion.

When School Became Home

In eighth grade, Luis’s world shift­ed when his moth­er was diag­nosed with can­cer. While he cared for his moth­er, his old­er broth­er was work­ing two jobs, and life became extreme­ly dif­fi­cult for his fam­i­ly. “Being home was hard,” Luis remem­bers. “School was hap­py and filled with sup­port­ive friends, teach­ers and coun­selors.”

His moth­er worked as an account­ing clerk at the school district—a steady job, but not one that left room for col­lege sav­ings. When Luis asked if they had set aside mon­ey for his edu­ca­tion, his mother’s answer was that unfor­tu­nate­ly, he would have to fig­ure it out. There sim­ply hadn’t been enough income to save for col­lege.

School remained his refuge and his inspi­ra­tion. His home­room teacher for all four years of high school became a life­line. When Luis got into UCLA — his dream school — she cried tears of joy with him. “Sup­port for oth­er stu­dents is what I hope to be, too,” Luis says, his voice full of grat­i­tude.

Making the Impossible Possible

Luis is pur­su­ing his dream at UCLA, major­ing in soci­ol­o­gy and cog­ni­tive sci­ence with inten­tions of becom­ing a social sci­ence teacher. His moth­er beat can­cer and remains his biggest sup­port. Get­ting to UCLA required more than good grades and deter­mi­na­tion. Luis applied to schol­ar­ships to be able to not only get into col­lege, but to be able to afford to attend and be the first in his fam­i­ly to grad­u­ate.

“Schol­ar­ships make the impos­si­ble pos­si­ble,” Luis says emphat­i­cal­ly. “I did­n’t have any mon­ey out­side of schol­ar­ships for school.” The Nation­al Rain­bow Col­lege Fund schol­ar­ship was among those that made Luis’s first year at UCLA ful­ly fund­ed. With­out it, his path would have looked dras­ti­cal­ly dif­fer­ent. “I would have had to go to com­mu­ni­ty col­lege or give up the dream of being a teacher and start work­ing,” Luis explains. “Nation­al Rain­bow Col­lege Fund helps me fol­low my dreams.”

For Luis, becom­ing a teacher isn’t just about a career — it’s about cre­at­ing the kind of safe, sup­port­ive envi­ron­ment that saved him dur­ing his dark­est moments. “I saw stu­dents not tak­ing advan­tage of every oppor­tu­ni­ty, and I want­ed to be sure that I did,” he says. “I want to make my fam­i­ly proud.”

His teach­ers and his moth­er’s strength through can­cer inspired him. His own expe­ri­ences liv­ing between accep­tance and rejec­tion, between two coun­tries and two iden­ti­ties, empow­ered him. Now, with sup­port from donors who believe in him, Luis is becom­ing the kind of teacher he relied upon — one who sees stu­dents for who they tru­ly are and sup­ports them every step of the way.

When donors con­tribute to Nation­al Rain­bow Col­lege Fund, they don’t pro­vide sole­ly finan­cial aid—they pro­vide hope, pos­si­bil­i­ty, and the free­dom for stu­dents like Luis to pur­sue their dreams with­out hav­ing to choose between authen­tic­i­ty and oppor­tu­ni­ty. Your sup­port makes it pos­si­ble for LGBTQ+ stu­dents to focus on their edu­ca­tion, build their futures and give back.