Voices: I grew up surrounded by violence and hardship. A Teen Center helped me choose a different path.

In sixth grade, my life changed forever. I witnessed domestic violence for the first time, and shortly after, I moved into a homeless shelter. By seventh grade, school felt impossible. I did everything I could to avoid it. I was living with my single mother and four siblings, and everything felt overwhelming. Then came eighth grade and COVID. That only made things worse. My attendance dropped off, and the stress I brought home caused tension in my family. I ended up moving in with other family members.

I returned to school for my freshman year but dropped out again during my sophomore year.

A couple of serious incidents forced me to a crossroads. I realized that if I kept going the way I was, I’d become a statistic — either in the correctional system or worse. I didn’t want that. I had a choice. Every day I woke up was a new chance to either build a life worth living or keep going down a path I’d regret.

I re-enrolled for my junior year, but it didn’t last long. I was kicked out of my home after an incident involving a firearm and shoplifting. I moved in with my dad, who was struggling with addiction, while I battled my own mental health challenges. Eventually, I dropped out again.

Still, something in me wouldn’t quit. I tried again during my senior year. It felt impossible. I was trying to cram two years of high school into just a couple months. But I got to work. And that’s when I found the Teen Center at Cedar Ridge High School — a space made possible by The Policy Project, which secured funding and worked to make Teen Centers a reality for students facing challenges like mine.

That Teen Center changed everything for me. For the first time, I had direction. The staff recognized that I was trying to change, and they showed up for me every single day.

One of the teachers always checked in to make sure my basic needs were met. I didn’t have a job at the time, and the Teen Center became my safety net. I could pick up hygiene products, clothes and other essentials without judgment. I didn’t feel embarrassed asking for help. That’s rare. But at the Teen Center, it felt normal and safe.

In March, just before the end of my senior year, one of my family members was incarcerated. I had no one left, and for a while, I lived alone. When my power got shut off, the Teen Center staff helped get it turned back on through a donation.

All of this support gave me the space to focus on finishing my credits and graduating. And, against all odds, I did it. I earned my diploma on time. That moment was one of the proudest of my life.

At graduation, I was invited to give a speech — and that speech led to a scholarship to Snow College. Today, I’m serving as vice president of the student body at the Snow College Richfield campus. I’m working toward my associate of science in criminal justice, with the goal of becoming a criminal defense attorney.

Teen Centers matter. They provide more than clothes or food. They provide dignity and hope. They create a place where students like me who experience housing insecurity, poverty and trauma can still dream big. I’m a first-generation American, raised on a dairy farm in Sevier County. I grew up surrounded by violence and hardship. But I want people to know that your circumstances don’t have to define your future.

I’m on a mission to show others that it’s possible to turn your life around — because if I can do it, anyone can. The Teen Center believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Every student deserves that kind of support.

Leo Valeriano is a first-generation American and student leader at Snow College, where he’s pursuing a degree in criminal justice. A graduate of Cedar Ridge High School, he’s passionate about ensuring every student has access to the kind of support that helped him turn his life around.

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