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USA250 Journal Project
Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026 A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.
✍️ “Who am I?”
I’m Jenna Reyes. A social worker. A Latina. A sister. A believer in second chances—even third or fourth ones.
I’m not here to “fix” people. I’m here to see them. To help them see themselves. And when the system is cold and indifferent, I try to be the opposite—steady, warm, real.
I work in trauma recovery and re-entry support, mostly with young men who’ve seen too much, lost too much, and been told they’re too much.
That’s where I met Jamal.
He barely looked at me during intake. But something in his voice—quiet, careful—stayed with me. And something in me must have stayed with him too.
I’m not a savior. I don’t believe in that story.
But I do believe that the right kind of attention can shift the whole story.
✍️ “How did I get here?”
I grew up in southwest Detroit, between family cookouts and eviction notices. My mom cleaned houses. My dad disappeared before I turned five. I learned early how to read a room, how to make myself useful, how to hold my breath.
In college, I studied psych and community health. Got a scholarship. Started volunteering at a youth shelter. That’s when I knew—this is the work. Not desk jobs. Not the good nonprofit PR stuff. The hard, gritty, tender work of walking with people through the roughest seasons of their lives.
Now I manage too many cases and sleep too little. I’ve had clients overdose. Relapse. Disappear.
But I’ve also seen them write poems. Get clean. Hug their mothers. Apply to school. Cry for the first time in years.
Jamal? He’s different. And not because he might be catching feelings. (Maybe he is. Maybe I am too. It’s complicated.)
He’s different because he still believes in language. Because he still writes. And because when I look at him, I don’t see “at risk.” I see ready.
What has life taught me?
That connection is the only real intervention. That boundaries and belief can coexist. And that sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do for someone is to hold up a mirror and whisper, “Look. This is you. Still here. Still worthy.”
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