Dear Young Me, I see you—sitting in the back of your dad’s barbershop on San Antonio’s East Side, sketching cartoons in the margins of your schoolbook, pretending the broom is a microphone, spin…
Dear Young Me, I see…
Dear Young Me, I see you—sitting in the back of your dad’s barbershop on San Antonio’s East Side, sketching cartoons in the margins of your schoolbook, pretending the broom is a microphone, spinning dreams bigger than the room you’re in. You don’t know it yet, but all those daydreams? They’re not silly. They’re seeds. I know it feels like the world is too big and you’re too small. You don’t have much Money. You’re not sure where to start. But hear this: you’re not crazy for dreaming. In fact, those dreams will become the roadmap for your life. One day, that voice you’re…

