yli is My Story

When I had a chance to reevaluate what I really wanted to do with my life, I realized that it was not just about money, but about doing something you love every day.

For the farm workers living in the Eastern Coachella Valley, their jobs rely on their ability to not only stand the heat, but work strenuously while the blazing sun beats on their backs. For women like Maria E. though, the scorching heat is not the most dangerous part of her job. 

Aaron Smith, a 17-year-old highschooler from Atwater, brings her identity in front of the camera despite controversy surrounding gender norms in the Central Valley.

I eventually gained the confidence to express my character and feelings during a major campaign to reform Marin County’s youth criminal justice system…I was apprehensive about speaking up, but the issue was so important that I felt compelled to take the risk of becoming more visible. It was the first time I was presented with a situation in which I could see myself.

I remember feeling the thrill of being pioneers in community change work. At that time, folks were not really talking about youth leadership in a community context.

When I started working at yli’s Marin office, I was wholly unprepared to work in a predominantly white community…Looking back, I believe that it was a sign from the universe – a push for me to let go of my trauma as my identity and purpose and to redefine what my leadership looks like.

As a journalist, I help others to see their stories – not just as something that happens to them – but as something that has value. The interaction itself can be so therapeutic – people feel so seen when they have a chance to tell their stories to someone who wants to listen, who is curious and asks questions.

When I first started gaming as a kid, I just did it for fun, but as I got older it helped me in times of need. When I was stressed or when something was really bugging me I knew gaming was something I loved, and I knew it would cheer me up.