It’s not hard to find the common thread in Eliana Murillo’s career. From her days at Harvard University to her time at Google, she’s looked to create and identify opportunities for underrepresented people and groups.

It was never apparent to José Ramón González that growing up in a big family was an asset—until he led a legal department through a restructuring.

When a child grows up as a political refugee, democracy is not an abstraction—it’s personal. At three years old, Marta Tellado’s family arrived in the United States from Cuba.

When Priscilla Almodovar first set eyes on Capitol Park Historic District in Detroit, Michigan, five years ago, her initial impressions of the historic Motor City neighborhood were far from positive.

In the 1970s, New York’s South Bronx neighborhood was the urban equivalent of the Wild West. Not the romantic interpretation seen in movies, defined by chaps and lassoes, but the historical one: loose, lawless, and lethal.

He calls them his “angels along the way.” It’s a strong statement, to be sure, but it’s not an empty platitude.

It was a moment that marked a turning point for an entire family. Marcelo Prado stood at São Paulo–Guarulhos International Airport, suitcase in hand, and said goodbye to friends and family who had gathered to see him off.

Being good at something doesn’t always equate to passion.” That’s a lesson Bernadette Aulestia learned when she was just twenty-three years old.

It was the 1960s, and a young teacher stood in a small Texas schoolroom in front of a group of third graders.