On March 8, 2025, we celebrated fourteen years of New Hope Girls, International Women’s Day, and the book launch of “I Am Joy!” We threw a big, bright, colorful party for our staff, girls, and friends. Every year, they celebrate more girls rescued and more women providing for their families with honor. Now, we are celebrating all that and the milestone of safely sharing those stories of hope, grit, and grace with our supporters. It also marks the beginning of my last month here…but also the celebration of the last successful 8 months.

(Scroll to the bottom for a link to the book!)

Our theme this year was “Yo Soy” — I am. This is a central theme in Joy’s new book, “I Am Joy.” Before rescue, our girls are called names that don’t reflect who they are. So, when a girl is rescued, her picture is taken and before it is put on the community board with the others, our caregivers ask her to declare her new identity. On that bulletin board, we have “I am light,” “I am a princess,” “I am a daughter,” and more. This is New Hope’s first step into identity work and healing so they can just be little girls! It’s a joy to witness a once cautious and hesitant young girl begin to smile and eventually play in the yard. Free to be a kid, reclaiming girlhood as something good, fun, and not dangerous. As we sat beneath beautiful orange and pink paper lanterns with our friends, we chose to celebrate the months of hard work and restored identity, and of many girls rescued.

It was beautiful to see how excited the women in the workshop were for the book. That was their boss, and they were proud to work with her! They excitedly grabbed their preferred flower crowns before arrangling themselves in front of the 5ft book cover cutout for a photo. Joy posed with them when she could as they hugged and offered her a word of congratulations. These parties are a time of mutual appreciation and celebration. The whole organization together! It’s beautiful. We all work together to help make it happen.

The little girls absolutely love preparing for this party. I was sort of surprised when I went over to the house the night before and found 20 girls running toward me, excitedly asking to let them help with chairs or hang paper lanterns. I was surprised, but then I remembered my own childhood and how accomplished I felt when the streamers everybody loved had been hung by me, or if I got to help make the punch everyone enjoyed. It’s fulfilling to be responsible for good things, and these girls very eagerly desire to be part of something good. All thirty girls prepared a dance as well, looking graceful as they waved beautiful multi-colored ribbons as they twirled. The paper lanterns that hung overhead really were a nice touch.

As the program continued, women sang and played musical instruments, declaring glory to God and we listened as women from our workshop shared their testimonies of restoration and growth. These women inspired stories of great hope and international collaboration. The book and the bags will reach many people. When I visit the workshop, I try to remember that. The bags are our arms of outreach. Women are proud to wear the bags, knowing where the funds go and what cause it supports. It’s a big deal, and I don’t take this lightly. It’s an honor to sit at the table among them.

At the center of our circular tables sat tiles ready for decoration. With every color available, each woman and girl drew herself on the tile, expressing her new identity.

Yo soy Luz — I am Light.
Yo soy Amor — I am Love.
Yo soy Esperanza — I am Hope.

As I worked for Joy, she often emphasised the importance of art therapy and how much she enjoyed it for herself and the girls. I’ve said it more than once, but we can only create during times (maybe just brief moments) of safety. Creating art is the antithesis to war and evil, but it is still a political act, often of resilience, reflection, commentary, or overcoming. But to me, that’s why art matters. When Joy and I were piecing together the book, we read and reread while she wrote and rewrote dozens of pages of difficult narratives. In the past 11 years of New Hope Girls, Joy remarked that it never felt like the right time to write down their stories. Now, it is. Giving these stories the honor they deserve has blessed me greatly, and helped me grow in my intended career, understanding of the world, and as a person in general.

By the end of the party, over sixty tiles were collected for pieces in a mosaic of uniquely perfect reminders. Each tile is a reminder of a restored identity. As I looked at over sixty of our New Hope sisters and daughters, I remembered our organization’s founding scripture:

“But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light” (I Peter 2:9 KJV).

This verse is so important it seems to the organization because it fights back against the nihilistic worldview that bad things happen, there is no way out of it, and that is the end. Worse, a lie our rescued girls often fight is that they deserve the bad things that have happened to them, and they may spend their whole life convincing themselves otherwise. But this verse helps, because it offers a new perspective, one akin to how a proud father may view his own family. Promises that you are created for a bigger purpose, that you can be a light in a dark place, that you are a part of a team. These are important reminders for our girls: that you are much, much more than the bad things that happened to you.

After the party ended, I photographed every single woman and girl, printing the photo and handing it to her. Sisters and friends smiled for the camera with flowers in their hair and their tile mosaics in their hands. Yet another reminder that we are created for more—that we can accomplish many things! Writing books, moving to another country to edit one, learning to sew, enjoying the freedom and safety of girlhood for the first time, pursuing a career as a caregiver, and more. We need it all.

Happy Birthday, New Hope!

Order the book here: “I Am Joy” by Joy M. Reyes

The first week of February marked the beginning of the end (of the book, that is). Over 7 months later, it was complete by mid-February! The portion of my job that fell under “editor” had lapsed by this point, and I was proud to complete my first book! A lot has happened in these 7 months. I learned so much about bookmaking, but mostly about the life-changing work of New Hope Girls. I’m so honored to be a part of the team of encouragers and helpers who made this book come to life and find its audience.

The trickiness here was how scrappy it was in the beginning. Joy wrote many of these untitled documents to process and not forget major events from her 20+ years in the DR doing this life-giving work of rescue and education. Many of the stories were written as a potential blog post. Little did Joy know the lifespan of these short documentations and how they would ultimately grow into chapters for her book.

Everything changed last year when Joy said she felt the Lord nudge her to dedicate 2024 to writing and painting. In February 2024, she set aside the month to write and collect these journals and untitled documents into digital files. This was her first draft.

When we began in July, Joy and I dug through the untitled pages in her Apple account. Eagerly reading through documents titled “untitled 67,” “SOLLLLLLL,” and “scabie cream,” we eventually organized her files into different parts and converted them to Google Docs so we could organize them into sections. We began with 7 sections with various titles, and over 80,000 words of raw material to work with.

After organizing it, I spent the next week reading the manuscript while onboarding as Joy’s assistant as well. Within the week, I met over 30 girls involved in the organization, moved into a home with 4 of them, was onboarded as Joy’s assistant, and was handed 80,000 words of raw material that I was tasked to transform into a real-life book, bound and ready to sell to thousands of people for New Hope Girls conference series partnership with Extraordinary Women Ministries. This six-city tour would double as Joy’s book tour.

All in 9 months. No pressure!

In July and August, my job was focused on all of these 30 little girls I met. The other interns organized games, pool parties, birthdays, and more. I attended when I wasn’t assisting Joy in Santiago. In this time, I applied my first round of edits to the manuscript.

New Hope was changing, and Joy was in meeting after meeting trying to find the right people to carry with her into this new season. Over these two months, it became obvious that Joy needed to 1) launch a personal brand as a speaker and author, 2) hire a US director in the States, and 3) hire a production director in the DR.

By September, all positions were filled, and Joy hired Derek to serve as the publishing, production, and marketing consultant to lead Joy’s team [me (editorial/executive assistant and proofreader), Helina (events, marketing, social media), Isaac (creator of the docuseries and head of media), Jeri (US Director)]. He brought it all together!

Every work day, I reported to Derek and Joy. Together, and with his guidance, we successfully developed an editing system. Derek edited first, then Joy, then me. Every week during our meeting, I served as the ‘scribe’ of sorts and we worked through the book, chapter by chapter. We did two rounds of this for the developmental stage (before Christmas) and the copyediting stage (after Christmas).

This was my favorite process! I loved the homework each week to read and edit the book, and as a bonus, during our weekly production meetings, I saw glimpses of what our media and marketing team members did to set the scene for the book to thrive by our publication date on March 8, 2025. By February 1, it was my time to proofread the book. Throughout the copyediting process, I collected and cataloged name changes, release form information, endorsements, style decisions, common misspellings, etc. This was my proofreading guidebook, which I applied in my last weeks as an editor of I Am Joy by Joy M. Reyes. Now, it’s in the hands of hundreds of people.

I feel very proud of all that a book can contextualize. Without the book, there’s no solid ground for Joy’s platform to stand on. She’s a spokesperson, a liaison between the dark reality of all those left unrescued and the bright future for those girls if others join in the fight. Over the years, Joy has been so modest about all she has accomplished in the name of rescue. She’s doing the Lord’s work:

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me” (Matthew 25:35).

This is “life that is truly life” (2 Timothy 6:19).

Thank you Joy sharing your story, thank you to you and your family for dedicating their lives to rescuing girls.

When I arrived back in the DR from my trip home, I slipped back into a rhythm of midday work and evening walks to the estadio in the days leading to my birthday. Books edit suggestions consumed my thoughts most days as we moved through the copyediting stage. This was the middle of the month. January began in NYC surrounded by my closest friends and ended with a once-in-my-lifetime birthday celebration. Lots of contrasts were plopped on my scales and tipped occasionally out of equilibrium during those in-between moments, but I am very skilled at balancing things.

Birthday dinner with my dad and sisters

Before I left for the DR, my mom hosted a small birthday dinner. Three of my sisters who live in the city came, along with two family friends, and two of my friends from college. Socially, it was a bit like a see-saw: on one end, family and friends from home and forever, then, on the other, friends I made in a completely different context and situation. I balanced in the middle, and it was awesome.

After the age of eighteen or so, you lose that quick-stitch connection introduced by a shared lexicon. When I first moved away from home, I abandoned familiarity and became an unknown. But this is necessary, and what follows is usually very wonderful and important. What followed was a life I built on my own merit and in my own way. Belmont provided the ground for that, and when I let my friends meet my family, it’s another plank in the bridge from Nashville to my first home…it’s a bit more difficult to build a metaphorical bridge from Nashville to the Caribbean islands, you know, mostly due to ocean and everything. However, I am willing to engineer an architectural marvel if given the chance.

Without a bridge, moving away transforms you into an unknown again—but that’s half the thrill. After four years in Nashville, I feel known there. After seven months in the DR, I am not quite known there yet, which is part of it. There’s this sort of secret adventure and life for me in the DR right now, and as I traveled back to the DR from Christmas, I wondered how the two experiences—Nashville and DR—would connect in the future. The next time I return to Nashville, it will be a one-way ticket.

Year 23 would be a brand-new birthday in more ways than one: first one post-grad, first one where I wouldn’t see at least one family member, first one in a foreign country, and first one where it was warm outside! Last year as a 22-year-old was no doubt the most eventual year of my life. Now, 23 is a year of doors undiscovered and unopened; of curiously gazing out of backseat windows, wondering where I’m headed. I am not much of a geoguessr, but I am an easygoing passenger.

Estoy tratando de ser más tranquila y simplemente disfrutar de todo.

On the 24th, the eve of my birthday, my roommate Helina and I went to “Oh La La Experience,” which is an air-conditioned restaurant we like. Back at the house, unbeknownst to me, all the girls at Casa Universidad y Casa de Paz were preparing for my surprise party! The projector was set up for karaoke and dancing, nachos were plated, balloons strung in an arch, and gold streamers taped beneath. I had a yummy pastel de dulce de leche and when I walked through the door, I was beyond surprised!

It was very warming. The whole thing.

A new energy came over me, and we sang and danced for HOURS. Just four of us. It was so much fun. We got to bed around 10pm because we had pickup for dentist clinic at 6:30am…

At 6am, my roommates broke through the door with a big slice of last night’s cake, a firework candle, and sang “Tu Cumpleaños” by La Nueva Escuela. I felt very celebrated and then we hopped into the bus bound for Santiago. There were about sixteen of us in the van.

In Santiago, we met the very kind American dentists. They explained the process to me, and showed me where I would help translate. I laughed as I walked back to the common room because it sometimes takes three tries before the girls understand what I am saying, and that’s without a drill lodged in their molars. Still, I did it! And no one lost a tooth. When I wasn’t translating, I played the card game ERS with M* and N*. Respectfully, I won’t let them win until they earn it. Which is to say, they didn’t win. But they are getting much better! They really like to play and it’s always a lot of fun. Too much fun, sometimes, because we got a small noise complaint from one of the caregivers, but in a cheeky way.

Not pictured: me in a hairnet and mask trying to translate

We gave up the game and played with the residential cat of the office building. Three of my great friends and I video-chatted before I got my teeth cleaned and it was great! The talking, not the examination, because turns out I had four cavities and I need a root canal done in the States. Disappointing!

The best part was after the dentist (although I had four  four-hour numbing shots deadening my face for too long).

Joy organized a vision board night for the older girls in the program and some staff members. Magazines and glue sticks were stationed at different tables alongside tiny craft scissors. Joy told us to include: “Familia, sueños, planes por el futuro, profesión, educatión, espiritual, y salud.” Afterward, we presented our boards beneath the twinkly backyard lights.

In the girls group, we had aspiring fashion designers, volleyball lessons, health for their families, dreams of veterinary school, and more. N* drew a lamppost on her board, declaring one day she wants to be like a lamppost; shining a light on all those close to her. She said the day hasn’t come yet but it will. I felt so proud of her then.

The staff dreams of women of every nation wearing the bags made in the workshop, “so every girl can carry our story.” Joy dreams of more rescues; that NHG goes big—into every nation, tribe, and tongue that needs a successful model to enable rescues.

Before I went, a chocolate raspberry cake arrived with the firework candle. Joy sang the classic happy birthday song and others joined in Spanish. It was a perfect mix of the two languages. My birthday present was a bilingual bible—and I asked a few people to highlight their favorite verse. Here’s one:

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” — 1 Peter 2:9.

When I got up to present my vision board, I couldn’t totally translate everything. So, for my profession, I said “I want to work with my mind and my heart.” My 23rd birthday reminds me of the extraordinary opportunity I’ve been given to do just that.

Goodness...I feel very loved!

Here’s to 23.

I overslept my alarm.

My roommate woke me, explaining that the Uber driver I scheduled the night before and New Hope Girls’s driver, JM, were both waiting for me.

The night before, I planned for an early rise: collecting my laundry off the line (it rained the day before, so I had to leave my clothes out drying all night), making my bed, cleaning my bathroom, washing and blow drying my hair, emptying the trash. None of those things happened…

JM took him to the airport, though I was surprised to see him that morning. I suppose someone informed him of my flight home, and told me so, yet I failed to understand that through conversation alone. Either way, I got to the airport.

One Miami layover and six hours later, I was home in Nashville!

My dear friends Emma and Kaylee picked me up, hugging me before I could glide my suitcases toward the trunk. My voice jumped three octaves when I saw them—just so excited to be reminded of their real existence outside the parameters of my smartphone screen.

Mom made white chicken chilli (my favorite) and we watched Charlie Brown and Frosty the Snowman, but the Charlie Brown YouTube movie playlist shuffled, making for an advanced watching experience.

Illinois Christmas

Breaking tradition, Mimi’s Christmas Eve celebration occurred on the 22nd, which happens to be my sister Caroline’s birthday—double celebration.

The usual lineup includes: three of my sisters, Mom, my brother, his in-laws, his wife, and their five kids. Mimi decorates fantastically, emphasizing the dining room table. The appetizer section is quite the display as well. Its the crown jewel of the kitchen area, aside from the tree. My family loves the cheese ball the most.

We played fishbowl and catchphrase and the once-little-kids have grown enough to fully participate. Growing up.

Country Christmas

Caroline and I drove thirty minutes to our hometown, Carmi, IL. We made the usual stops at McDonalds and Walmart before driving down—I kid you not—Possum Road toward our Dad’s house.

I was in charge of mac and cheese this year, so we were the first ones there. It was a hit, and with over thirty people eating it—eight of them little kids—I was good with that.

Country Christmas at my Dad’s is always the largest and loudest with all six of my siblings, all ten of my nieces and nephews, and not to mention aunts, uncles, and cousins. Secret Santa occurs annually, and this year I bought my older sister a necklace with her three kids birthstones set in a silver charm.

Christmas Eve and Day

The day before Christmas, Mom and I wrapped presents together and helped prep food for our Christmas Eve dinner. My three sisters, Mimi, and my new brother-in-law met at the candlelight church service before returning to Mom’s house for dinner. It was simply a very nice time—I really missed my family. We ended the night with It’s a Wonderful Life, one of my favorites. Here’s a good quote:

“Remember, no man is a failure who has friends.”

The next morning, I gave away New Hope Girls and Helina’s Heart merchandise to my family, and in return I received a polaroid camera, an engraving pen, the game We Are Not Really Strangers, and a pickleball padel (because part of Alexa’s wishlist was that I received one too so we could play together).

Mom and I prepared breakfast (I prep the oranges and pomegranates every year). After we ate, we played the WANRS and it’s a tense premise, but we all agreed it was good to play.

We watched four movies, one of them The Holiday. A few days later, Mimi, Mom, and I had a oldies movie marathon: Meet Me in St. Louis, The Shop Around the Corner, Holiday, and Holiday Inn. Random shift, but we watched Good Will Hunting.

NYC for NYE

One of my dear friends and former roommates moved to NYC this year, so we organized a girls trip for the holiday, which happens to be Kaylee’s birthday.

We ate pizza, navigated the subway, cooked a Trader Joe’s dinner, went to The Strand and Barnes and Noble, toured Greenwich and West Village (GC works at NYU, but not for NYU), walked around Central Park by night, and tried a few coffee shops by day. My dear friend Emma joined us for a NYE celebration at a restaurant on the west side. We walked home in the rain, laughing.

After graduation, we began what I call, “sisterhood of the traveling journal.” Which is to say, we have a journal we keep for a month, then ship off to the next girl. There are four of us.

Over the few nights we were all there, we read our entries and discussed how our lives had changed since we last saw one another. As I read my entires from July ‘24, I felt older than the girl who wrote them. Probably because I was, but I’m really saying that this Lumos experience has helped me grow up, and in my hands layed documented evidence of that. Retrospect made that possible. A luxury.

After a wonderful trip home, it was time to return to the DR and complete my last three months! When I arrived, my room was exactly as I left it...unfortunately, a mess.

When I entered the gates, I felt like I stepped into a game show. TVs, microwaves, coffee makers, and other appliances lined the porch of the small breakroom house adjacent to the three-story workshop. Green and red balloons flooded the lawn, and Christmas music blared. I was so ready for the workshop Christmas party!

Wanda (the workshop manager) led the charge as MC, and she raised the energy exponentially. All 60 of the workshop women were there, ready to celebrate Christmas but also another year of hard work. This was their opportunity to be fully celebrated, and New Hope Girls pulled out all the stops.

We began the party with a message about Christmas, complete with a storybook reading from Joy and Ada. I was tasked with taking videos and iPhone pictures for the event, so I scanned for the best angles. I saw the contented faces of the women. Their unfiltered anticipation for the event brought me a lot of joy to witness.

After playing some fun games, the raffle began, and those women perked up! Fina (the residential caregiver in the home I live in) was gunning for the microwave. She got it! Two TVs were given out, and Vidal (Joy’s husband) announced one of the winners. Everyone rallied around this woman, cheering her on all the way to the porch steps. She fought back the tears at the extravagance of the gift—that’s when I realized this one wasn’t pure luck of the draw. I asked about this after, and Joy explained how everyone knew what she wanted for Christmas—and Vidal was determined to make it happen, even if it came out of his own pocket. He made it happen under the radar, but when they hugged on stage, I think she knew who to thank. Nothing looked more like Christmas to me than that moment.

“That night, she invited her whole neighborhood over to enjoy the TV. The kids were lining up in the small doorway!”

Graciously give and humbly receive.

the workshop Christmas party

The next day, I helped sell bags at an “Americans in the DR” Christmas party at the home of one of Joy’s friends. There are not many ex-pats in this part of the country, so it was great to be invited into another American/Dominican household. The hosts were on the board of a local American school. So, some of the teachers came over…since the other New Hope interns left in August, this was the first time I could talk to someone in my position (and in English, lol).

Over the months, I imagined my experience as very singular. As in, I am one-of-one, alone but standing tall. It’s an empowering stance. It can also be an isolating one, especially because it’s not entirely true. Meeting these teachers helped me see myself with a clearer lens. All this to say, that evening’s small talk made me feel less alone while also shrinking some leftover pride before it could callous into hardness of heart.

It was an important evening as well because it showed me an alternative life. Living in America for the rest of my life simply because I am American is not the only possibility for a happy life worth living. There were young, single women there like myself; there were families with younger children and older single mothers as well. I’m at the age where my definitive lifestyle is not yet permanent. I have options. Global ones, even.

I consider myself quite lucky for many reasons, but one of the more unique reasons is that I have been exposed to culturally different lifestyles in their native space—A luxury that not many women my age experience or consider necessary to explore. However, now that I have experienced it firsthand, I advise any and all to introduce themselves to a period of cultural immersion outside their home.

I am not the only one.

The finale to my summertime Christmas is, of course, Christmas at la casa universidad. On December 18th, 2024, my three roommates, Fina, and I costume changed into matching floral pajamas, listened to English and Spanish Christmas music, and absolutely feasted. Fina prepared mangú con jamon, queso, y cabellos. Un pollo grande. Pan. Dulce de leche y más.

We danced the merangue y salsa. We sang and opened presents. We expressed what we were thankful for. I said “¡La experiencia de estar con ustedes. Todos ustedes son mis amigos hasta el final!”

The experience of being with you. You all are my friends to the end!

¡Feliz Navidad!

us at the Christmas festival with Dominican santa

After Thanksgiving, I went to a DR baseball game, and my roommates invited me to their Lazemiento. It is an event that “announces” their graduating class by performing a dance routine, complete with a full stage production with music, videos, and costumes. Kids begin planning as soon as grade school! My roommates D* and E* are graduating high school this year, so it was their turn. They personally chose not to perform in the production, but we still made a big deal out of attending.

The Lazemiento performance occurred on a Saturday, so I and my co-worker/roommate/friend Helina took on some responsibility for getting the girls to the school and hosting another girl from our organization and E’s sister at our house for a sleepover. I have six older siblings, and it was surprisingly fun to play “big sister” for the night (or, really, every day). The girls rode together, and Helina and I took a separate car. She mentioned that it “may not be what you expect.” Jokes on Helina because I had no expectations at all. I don’t even know what “lazemiento” translates to, or if I’m spelling it right. Suffice it to say that I was quite literally along for the ride. The only thing I knew to do was dress up for the occasion.

We arrived at the school. Like most buildings in the DR, it looked intimidating at first due to the electric fences surrounding the building, but once four unenthusiastic teenage girls asked for the entry fee at the door, I felt like I was back in my hometown of Carmi, Illinois, for what is called the “One-Niter.” Basically, it’s a variety show that the seniors produce every year. Think, SNL meets teen talent show. There’s a Rockette-style dance number performed by the cheerleading squad, ballads sung by the choir soloists, and sketch comedy enacted by the theater department. My mom took me to see it every year as a kid, and as Helina and I stepped into the neon-lit gymnasium turned auditorium, I was right back to my roots (minus the palm trees). I found my expectations.

Feeling the school spirit, I asked N* (one of the girls in our organization…she’s the student who I occasionally tutor in English) to join me at the snack booth. I bought us Sprites, and we returned to the nearly dark gymnasium. She was buzzing––just so excited to be out and about, counted among the teenagers and not the littles. I remember that feeling: that first moment you were allowed to walk into a new room that was once off-limits. She wore it well!

The announcer arrived on the stage and (from how I understood it) made her remarks about the definitive characteristics of this graduating class, how bright they are, and how hard-working they were to pull off their Lazemiento. She then launched into the narrative…the story was that the class “went to Brazil,” and then a sketch video played displaying just that. At the end of the video, the students came out dressed in rainforest tourist attire. The energy was high! Music vibrated the floor, giving the effect of a minor earthquake.

The dancers were super serious. They transitioned to the “partying on the beach” dance number, and the girls started doing some crazy dance moves. That’s when Helina and E turned to me, E said, “That’s why I didn’t want to dance,” and well, yeah, I understood why. It differed more than slightly from the Rockette-style number from my little rural town’s One-Niter, but we were still having fun due to the high energy of the production. Something I admire in E and D is that they are not easily impressed or influenced, especially E. They have a backbone. If they wanted to dance, we would have cheered them on, but they didn’t want to, and I admire their honesty.

The production ended with the introduction of their class title, which was a Portuguese word I’ve since forgotten. D and E were on the stage for the final moments. We cheered so loud! After the crowd cleared, we all returned to the house and Helina and I bought them Papa John’s. I could tell all the girls were having so much fun, and that was my favorite part. I was glad to be there, so glad to hear them laughing.

A few days later, a bucket list DR experience occurred: attending an Aquilas (eagles) baseball game in Santiago! The Reyes family are big fans, especially Vidal (Joy’s husband) and Isaac (Joy and Vidal’s oldest son). After Helina, S*, and I mentioned our desire to go, Vidal got us all tickets near him and Isaac.

We girls live a town away, so we ordered an Uber. Guess who our Uber was? My favorite one! I couldn’t believe we got him again. There are some very interesting and/or creepy characters who work as drivers in La Vega, but few are both characters AND nice/trustworthy. This guy was both. He immediately remembered me, and I remembered him. I told him I needed his taxi number, and we talked it over on the way to Santiago when…he blew out a tire. So, there we were on the side of the highway, lounging in the folding chairs this man set out for us while he calmly replaced his whole tire. It was hilarious. If it were any other driver, I might have been a little afraid, but this guy should teach a masterclass in how to handle a situation like that. In no time, we were on the move.

Our seats were in the right field. I purchased 8 Aguilas caps for my nephews. We had our tiny personal pizzas. We were ready…and I’ve never had more fun at a baseball game. Dominicans are super fans. A player would walk to first, and you would have thought it was a game-winning home run. The whole rivalry game played out like that. They tied, so the Aguilas won in the bottom of the 10th inning! It was crazy! I’m the biggest Aguilas fan now. I’ll learn to like wearing yellow.

bonus content: helina reveal. I accompany her to Jumbo to refuel with Mangoes Monsters.

My dear ole estadio. Best enjoyed at sunset.

I watercolor paint for fun nowadays. I call this one “flowers,” because that’s what it looks like.

me on the side of the highway because my favorite uber drive blew out said tire

Helina and S. On our way to the game. This is the car with the blown out tire

Aquilas v. Paray!

I’m writing this from January 2025, but I want to take a look back at November. At this moment, I’ve crossed into my sixth month here (going on 7!), which officially marks my time here as over halfway complete. Looking out the window at my sixth-month summer, it’s surreal to think of my view changing. In November, I celebrated Thanksgiving here in the DR and it was a noteworthy experience that I’ll always remember.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and I wanted to bring it to the DR in some way. I relayed the details of my family Thanksgiving to my curious roommates: the pick-up football played in the leafy yard, the smell of sage as the stuffing cooks, the taste of the cheese ball appetizer my Mimi always makes, watching football after eating at 4pm…there’s many small traditions to be expected at my family table. I wondered which ones I could bring to my new home.

My house mom mentioned that because an American family founded New Hope Girls, they actually do celebrate Thanksgiving! They have their own traditions to celebrate the American holiday Dominican-style and I was excited to experience that. They celebrate because it’s a fun holiday, but also for the cross-cultural exposure. Since I was living with them, Fina requested that I make 5 pies for the occasion––enough to feed almost 50 people. On a trip to another town, my boss, Joy, and I went to a grocery store called Jumbo. There, we got all kinds of produce and foreign goods (like canned pumpkin) to bake Thanksgiving desserts. I settled on making apple cobbler, apple crisp, and a pumpkin sheet cake with cream cheese frosting. (The apple crisp ended up being the biggest hit!).

early stages of apple desserts

Thanksgiving festivities began around noon as my house mom, roommate M*, and I baked. M* helped me dice apples in the kitchen. To add to the celebration feel, M* played Christmas music—beginning with American music! She nodded her head at me, and it was a little homage that made me feel a little more of a home-away-from-home feeling. I think she was going for just that.

the backyard while we all gathered in the kitchen

The New Hope Girls driver, José Miguel, picked us up in the company van (fully loaded!), and we tried not to sit atop cobblers or crisps during the 5-minute drive to la casa grande. The event began as many of the birthday parties or other festivities do. We played in the yard and then gathered in the main room as Mamá Carmen led us in a few songs of thanks and gratitude. She prayed blessings over the girls, inviting others to join her. The girls were squeamish but content. When we finally moved on to the meal, we got to eat pollo, arroz con guisantes, ensalada verde con vinagre, papas, y pan––chicken, rice with peas, green salad with vinegar, potatoes, and bread. There were two new girls in the house for the celebration, and we were thankful to have them with us. Before we left, Fina and I were on the playset swinging. We just kept laughing!

Dominican-style Thanksgiving!

I was grateful to Facetime my mom and sisters that night, and I watched some iconic Thanksgiving TV episodes before I fell asleep. It was a good day!

The past two weeks have been so relaxed. It feels like I have so few things to report besides books I’ve read and movies I’ve seen, but that isn’t entirely true. Usually, I live in the middle of the country, but in recent weeks, I have been living along the coast. My boss and I are staying in a beach house while we finish the second draft of her book. Being in the beach house makes time feel slow and elegant, like featherlight curtains caught in the breeze or a pebble rippling water. It is really so, so nice here; a good change-up from routine.

Helina’s birthday dinner!!

Our first Monday here, the book was announced! Here’s the caption of the Instagram announcement my boss, Joy Reyes, posted:

“I am so excited to announce the release of my upcoming book, “I Am Joy,” on March 8, 2025—International Women’s Day. This book is not only my journey but one that I believe belongs to all who have dared to step into the unknown with courage, faith, and hope.

It is a testament to the power of faith and redemption and how a California girl, with little more than a whispered prayer, found herself stepping into the unknown to walk alongside women rising from unspeakable trauma into unimaginable strength.”

The response to this has been incredible so far. It makes it so much more real to think of holding the book in my hands by March, the last month of my time here in the DR. While I daydreamed about that day, Joy and I still have a lot of work to do! The book isn’t done yet, which is typical for the process. I want to give it my all and help Joy elevate her message. We are trying to do just that. And we have some exciting ideas for marketing this…(to be mentioned later.)

This past weekend, I left the beach house because Helina, her friend Pamela, and I signed up for a 10k race in connection with the Maratón Monumental de Internacional. The night before, we watched “Wicked” at Caribbean Cinemas and loved it! It was a packed theater, and all ages were in attendance. I love going to the movies anyway, but I especially love it here because it transports me back home for a few hours. Well, when the films aren’t dubbed! I still enjoy it either way, though.

We went to bed at 1 a.m. and woke up at 5 a.m. for the race. Our start time was 6:30 a.m. When we took off from the starting line, the sun hadn’t risen yet, and fireworks went off. It was a standout experience: the camaraderie, fireworks, cheering each other on, and a host of people sharing one goal and running toward it as the sun rose. I felt so proud of everyone; I felt proud of myself.

5:30 a.m. before the race!

Helina, Pamela, and I all met our personal goals for the race, and despite not really training since arriving at the beach house, the 10k felt more doable than I anticipated. 21k next year? Hm? Maybe. Our next physical feat is to climb Pico Duarte, the highest peak in the Caribbean, in January. I’m anticipating this heavily since we will do it a week before my birthday. It gives me something to train for over the holidays!

A few hours after the race, I was already in a car bound for the beach house. Joy and I are in the endzone for finishing the second draft of Joy’s book. Our deadline is Thanksgiving. After that, another draft. Red ink is everywhere—I’m not complaining.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday ever. My Mimi makes it so special and beautiful and delicious, so I’m trying to devote my energy to bringing that magic here. I’m thinking: Maci’s parade reruns on the projector, maybe some American football in the front yard, and hopefully, every girl gets to try some pie. One of the caregivers wants me to make five pies for everyone. Maybe I can pull it off? They don’t even sell pie pans around here!

The next time I blog, the book should be almost done, and Christmas will be approaching rapidly…and I will cross over into my sixth month here.

starting line!! Right before the fireworks, nerves were high, and adrenaline surged!

after the race! Medals in hand!

pizza by the beach

back to the beach house!

Running along the Estadio track in La Vega with an audiobook playing through my headphones, I almost stopped mid-lap. The narrator said, “I confused a lack of effort with a lack of ability…” This small line contextualized an important conversation I had with my roommate a few days before.

I live in one of New Hope’s four safe homes. My roommates are aged seventeen through twenty-four. The oldest is my boss’s daughter and, therefore, bilingual, and the second oldest roommate is also bilingual. Naturally, I have grown closer to these two girls since we work and travel together. Speaking the same language and being in a similar life stage (college or post-grad) also helps. The youngest three are in high school and only speak Spanish. In the past four months I have lived here, it has been more of a slow, steady effort to get to know them—this can be expected. It is also not beyond my notice that our schedules often conflict, so I only see them for a few hours every day since school began. However, we find our way through our contrasting schedules by using the time we do have together by watching movies, eating dinner together every night, and going for runs at the estadio now and then.

I am more quiet around them, especially during my first two months. This is partially because I was 1) nervous to speak my broken Spanish, and 2) I was unsure what to talk about with them. Hence, that was why I constantly turned on movies or offered to accompany them to the Estadio; when I wasn’t doing that, I tried my best to resist relying on my boss’s daughter, Helina, to translate for me. The result? When she wasn’t around,  I stopped trying to speak Spanish and just kept quiet. (This method didn’t last very long. Admittedly, I was just so nervous to misspeak! What language teachers don’t tell you is how embarrassing learning to communicate in a new language can be.)

One night, something changed: Helina was gone on a trip, so I had no translator safety net. I ate dinner with my roommates, and we spent hours at the table after the food was cleared, laughing and telling jokes. The thing is…I understood what they were saying! I didn’t catch everything, but for the first time, I could actually participate in the conversation, having a stake in the jokes and stories using my words instead of just excessively analyzing and responding to body language. I waited three months for this.

One of my roommates, E*, told me in Spanish, “See! It’s better when you spend time with us instead of going into your room. When Helina isn’t here, it’s like you don’t want to talk with us!”

I paused for a moment because E was right. I was avoiding them. Not because I didn’t want to be with them but that I was not sure how to hold my own in Spanish. It must be frustrating to converse with me in Spanish, and I honestly thought my roommates felt that way because my Spanish was not improving fast enough. Really, only I felt that way, not them. I was just slowly giving up, confusing a lack of ability with a lack of effort, completely unwilling to wade through the difficulties of expressing myself in their language.

“It’s true,” I told E, “I am nervous to speak with you. I want to speak, but my Spanish is so bad. I think I annoy you. I speak like a little girl!”

My other roommates all laughed at this because there was some truth to it. I am literally learning how to speak all over again. My grammar and pronunciation are comparable to the four-year-old we have in our care here—she and I have some good conversations! E did not laugh, though. She had a very solemn look on her face and said, “No, you are not annoying to me. I want to know you! I want to speak with you! Practice Spanish with me any time.”

“Serio?” — “Seriously?”

“Sí! En cualquier momento” — “Yes! Anytime.”

I was so relieved, and I wanted to tell her, but I didn’t know the Spanish verb to say it. The best I could do was say “Yo quiero conocer tambien.” — “I want to know you too.”

Now, thanks to my audiobook, I see that I was confusing a lack of effort for a lack of ability. I am more than capable of becoming bilingual—I just have to practice…and I do! Ever since that conversation with E, I have much more grace for my mess-ups, and she and I have stuck to our promise of getting to know each other better. I have an open door to my room, and E often visits to practice Spanish and English after house dinner. As a result, I feel like my Spanish has improved quite a bit; what a difference that has made for everything! She even celebrated a birthday recently, and the New Hope tradition of waking her up with cake and a song, which sounds even sweeter now that I understand the words.

Another birthday party! They are SO fun!

Me and Helina in Ohio flying out at 4am after our last NHG x E-Women conference of the year!

Flying back to the DR! I had the best flight seat neighbors ever.

My sister got married!! Luckily, NHG already flew me to The States for the E-Women conference, so I was able to pop over to Nashville for my sister’s big day without it interfering with work too much.

I am back in the DR, and tomorrow, we welcome a team of twenty students from Liberty University. Having spent about two weeks in Virginia this past month, I feel more connected to where they are coming from, and I hope I can welcome them well.

My three-week work trip to the States was noteworthy because I got to be face-to-face with New Hope’s audience and see how New Hope inspires others. Ironically, my journey began at home in Nashville, TN.

Nashville, TN

I traveled here because my boss was invited to the CAFO conference and suggested we travel together. Over the four days I was in town, I visited my family, drank great coffee, and attended a movie night my friend hosted! It felt really nice to drive my car around the city without GPS and see the hills I love. I even participated in the book launch party that Room In the Inn hosted to promote “Kingdom of the Poor: My Journey Home” by Charles Strobel, founder of the organization. Two of my friends work there, so I got to visit them and even participate the next day in their programming for a few hours. On my final day, my mom and I watched the sunrise at her house in the countryside and drank coffee before I left for Lynchburg, Virginia.

My mom feeding the donkeys at her house

Lynchburg, VA

Descending into Virginia took my breath away—it is such a beautiful state. When I arrived at our New Hope Girls Airbnb, I brewed some hot, decaf coffee and read the poetry book of my friend and fellow Lumos Scholar, Elisabeth Moss. Her book is called “Stretch Marks,” which is absolutely lovely. I read it until my two coworkers arrived later that evening.

The next five days, my two coworkers and I worked the New Hope Girls booth for Liberty University’s “Global Focus Week,” which focuses on hosting international organizations for business, classroom speakers, and speaker events. I got to speak to two classes: one for social work and another for (randomly enough) a Chinese language class. Admittedly, I questioned if our organization’s causes would align with the interests of students learning an Eastern language. I figured that perhaps a Spanish language class would have been a better fit. I’ll never assume how the message will impact an audience again because one of the girls in the classes was actually from the DR, and she approached me at the booth later; not only did she speak three languages and live a mere car ride away from our organization, but she seemed seriously interested in volunteering in-country. This sort of interaction became a recurring theme. In unlikely places and circumstances, interesting stories appeared.

One night, my coworker and I ventured to one of the girls’ dorms to speak to seventy girls about New Hope Girls. In my mind, I questioned how attentive they would be at 10 p.m. Again, I was wrong—the girls seemed to hang on my coworker’s moving story of the story that inspired New Hope Girl’s establishment. My coworker and I stayed until 1 am with the RAs as we spoke to four girls who expressed their interest in what we were doing in the DR and the possibilities for them to join in the work down there—it was pretty amazing. They were so energetic about their futures and were hopeful about the change happening in the DR.

Us at Liberty University! We met some fellow DR org friends here as well.

Hershey, PA

My coworker and I drove to the land of chocolate amid Hurricane Helene-induced storms. Despite the weather, over 7,000 women piled into The Giant Center for the E-Women conference. Tim Tebow, Jennie Allen, and Shelia Walsh headlined the event. Similar to our five days in Lynchburg, my job was to sell New Hope bags in the arena’s lobby. We did just that and more! At the end of our two-day venture, our team of five packed up our setup and purchased a Panera Bread dinner to be enjoyed in the comfort of our hotel room. We talked, laughed, and ate until sleep overcame us, which was admittedly pretty early in the evening.

The next day, my coworker and I checked out of the hotel and made a pit stop at Chocolate World. We purchased gifts for our DR housemates—super American hot chocolate flavors like s’more, York peppermint patty, and Reece’s—with the intention of hosting a movie/hot chocolate night with them. (Spoiler: they liked the gifts!)

Us in Hershey, PA!

Tim Tebow speaking to a crowd of 7,000 women!

Blacksburg, VA

In Blacksburg, my coworker and I rested for a few days (except for a Chamber of Commerce event New Hope Girls hosted in the local community and a brief lifestyle photoshoot for the new merchandise dropping on the org’s website). We stayed with some loyal New Hope Girls supporters and family friends of my boss’s family. They were the best! We had dinner with them nightly and watched movies, and my coworker and I even got our own rooms AND bathrooms. We got a personal tour of Virginia Tech from our host mom. That was one of my favorite experiences from the intermission at work, alongside my walks around their neighborhood observing the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains.

Our little event setup. The creation of the balloon arch was a source of stress, I won’t lie.

Lynchburg, VA

All roads lead back to Lynchburg, this time for another two-day E-Women event. This time, I was rejoined with two past interns I lived with in the DR this past summer! This event was our best yet: our crew was great, our sales numbers record-breaking, and the audience was so receptive and kind about engaging with our cause and message. We capped off the experience with a nice dinner downtown with the whole crew before we all went our separate ways. I was happy to be in the States, but also glad to return to the DR!

The crowds can get pretty intense for us!

the 5 am flight out of Lynchburg to DR!