Finding Family, Purpose, and a Future at MHS

By Veyda Ramos-Ramirez ’25

One of my favorite verses is found in the book of Luke, Chapter 28, Verse 12, and it reads “to whom much is given, much is required,” a verse so fitting for this year that throughout every trial, it has replayed in my head like a broken record. To whom much is given, much is required. There is no denying that we’ve been given plenty: a roof over our heads, quality education, and the opportunity to pursue our passions cost-free—the list is practically endless. On the other hand, we cannot simply say it has all been handed to us.

This idea of raising the bar is a term applied to something that we have all been practicing since the moment we stepped foot on this campus. Everything we have been given, we have had to work for. It’s been built on the sacrifices both we and our families have made, and the perseverance we have acquired from indescribable circumstances. It’s been built on the days our minds are stuck on everything that’s been going on at home, but still, we carry on doing what’s expected.

We Raise the Bar for achievement and success, not because we always want to, but because we have been called to. Because behind each and every A+ or F, every missing assignment or level or distinguished honor roll, behind every one, there is a story whose course has led them to this place, and this moment.

Before coming to Milton Hershey School in sixth grade, I had been to over six different schools. I had lived in more places than I could even count. I lived a life filled with so many temporaries that I never envisioned a future beyond the moment I was living in. From sleeping in my mom’s car, eating fruity pebbles in a plastic cup, and staying in a shelter, eating microwaved hot dogs, to hopping from home to home with my dad, from one evil stepmother to another, and finally finding a place I thought I could call home.

Two and a half years with my dad—it was the longest I had ever stayed in one place and at one school. I had it all—friends, my own room with purple-painted walls. With him, I never questioned when and if my next meal would come, and even though he was never home, there were always gifts for every holiday.  Until one day, instead of gifts waiting at the end of the stairs, it was police officers and broken doors. With a house turned upside down and my dad sitting handcuffed on our couch, I couldn’t have even imagined what was to come. In the span of 24 hours, everything I had come to know and love was gone. I was in a new home, with a new family and so much confusion.

I remember praying to God, begging for answers.

Less than a year later, my fifth grade counselor told me about Milton Hershey School. I was all in, no questions asked. With some help convincing my mom, I applied, was accepted, and enrolled at the school in 2018.

I remember my very first day here, walking into what felt like the biggest house I had ever seen, as other girls packed their things into a large plastic bin. I was excited, but I was also scared. I had no idea what I was walking into, and it was heartbreaking to know that I was leaving my mom and my siblings behind. I cried so much that night, feeling swallowed by the silence and darkness in my half of the room. I went from going to sleep whenever I wanted, waking myself up, getting ready for school on my own, to a strict set of rules for everything.

Adjusting was more difficult than I’d imagined, but behind every bad day, missing the familiarity of the home I had only known for a year, was an adult who was there to check up on me and support me. Though I’m fortunate enough to have a mom, a dad, and siblings, I had never known what family felt like. To me, family was an image, no more no less. It was the people you were related to and the ones who were at every holiday gathering. But at Milton Hershey School, family is the houseparent who makes us walk up and down the driveway every day for an hour of exercise, but cooks the best meal I’ve probably ever had in my life. Family is the girls who have seen you fall in love, get your heart broken, and have been there to pick up the pieces of you that have fallen. They’re the Algebra 2, AP psych, and English teachers who make you feel seen and cared for in your most vulnerable states. Family is in this whole community of people who set a bar that you don’t just reach, but exceed and fly past, fueled by the tremendous support this place provides.

I can’t help but get emotional thinking about everything that has changed for all of us since being here.

For many of us, this is the only safe and stable home we know, and soon we will be on our own way with nothing but everything we have learned at this school. I used to think that when I graduated, I would be on my own, and my time here would only be a distant memory. But standing before you today, I know that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Each of us in this graduating class will leave here with the mark of greatness, touched by all of the people who have been there every step of the way to push us past what we thought were our limits. We leave as people to whom much has been given—people who, from this day forward, are required to exceed expectations in every space we enter.

We have been tasked with being the difference makers of the world and to impact lives in the ways ours have been impacted. We haven’t been promised that it will be easy, or that it will always be fun, but we’ve been equipped with immense resilience, strength, and the compassion of our founders as a catalyst for success in the world outside of our chocolate bubble. I am beyond proud of every single member of this Class of 2025 for making it here today. May we leave here always remembering our duty to the world and ourselves, to be that person who can change lives in the ways ours are forever changed.