Each year, the Campus Compact AmeriCorps VISTA program supports 50 Members serving at colleges and universities across the country to build the capacity of anti-poverty initiatives. These VISTA Members work to strengthen programs that address issues like food insecurity, educational equity, and community resilience—making a lasting impact both on and off campus.
Often, the powerful outcomes of their service are matched by the personal and professional growth they experience along the way.
One standout example is Romeo Rivera, whose year of service not only created meaningful change but also marked a transformative chapter in his own journey. We recently featured Romeo’s work in our 2024-25 Project Showcase blog post, but today we’re handing him the mic.
Below is the written transcript of Romeo’s reflections, shared with his VISTA peers during his Project Showcase presentation.
“My name is Romeo Rivera, I am a first year Campus Compact AmeriCorps VISTA being hosted by Southern Connecticut State University (SCSU), and the purpose of my year of service is building sustainable support for first generation, low income students.
When I first applied for this position, I wasn’t sure I was the right fit. I didn’t believe I had any of the necessary skills to do well in the position. I had just graduated from Southern with a degree in philosophy, and like many recent grads, I expected to hit the ground running. But instead, I found myself stuck. I was unemployed, disconnected, and quietly battling the weight of feeling directionless. Every day started to look the same. I had fallen into habits that didn’t build me up, and I wasn’t sure who I was becoming or what the future would hold for me.
So when I came across the VISTA opportunity, I almost ignored it. I didn’t think I was qualified or capable. But something in me, something small but determined, told me to try anyway.
On the day of my interview, I put on a suit jacket I hadn’t worn in a long time. It was the same jacket I bought for the funeral of one of my mentors. He was someone who had a deep impact on my life and who helped inspire my decision to pursue the career I want. Wearing it reminded me of my purpose: of the people I want to serve, and why I care about creating spaces for others to feel heard and valued.
That morning, as I got into the car, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” came on the radio. And at that moment, I felt calm. It was like the universe whispered: you’re doing the right thing. I didn’t know it then, but that day marked the beginning of a year that would reshape everything for me.
Now, let me be real. This position didn’t play to my strengths. I struggled. I missed deadlines. I dropped the ball more than once. The learning curve was steep, and I often questioned if I was falling short of what the role demanded.
But what I’ve come to realize is: this role wasn’t meant to play to my strengths. It was meant to develop them.
And it did.
Throughout my service, I worked closely with departments across campus to support first-generation, low-income students. I created resources focused on financial literacy and career readiness. These are core skills students need but often don’t have easy access to. I surveyed over 100 students to better understand their needs and used that data to guide initiatives. I helped build partnerships. I collaborated with the Office of Alumni Relations, Career Services, and Financial Literacy to begin developing a scalable mentorship program that connects current students with Southern alumni, giving students a bridge to professional and personal guidance from people who were once in their exact shoes.
And while a lot of that impact can be written down in reports and summaries, some of the most important work I did was unseen.
Most of my service year was spent in the back corner cubicle of the University Access Programs office. Here, I created a safe space.
I created space for students to be themselves. I listened when they didn’t know who else would. I answered questions that didn’t always have clean answers. I was present, not as an expert, but as someone who knew what it felt like to be figuring it out.
I became a mentor, not because I was perfect, but because I showed up again and again, even when it was hard.
That presence, that consistency, that was the heart of my service.
And while I may have been the only VISTA, I was never alone.
To my supervisors Dawn Stanton and Aimee O’Shea, as well as Bernard Macklin, thank you for being incredible supervisors, but more than that, for being human. You offered grace, structure, and unwavering belief. You allowed me to learn out loud. To make mistakes and recover. You reminded me that leadership isn’t about having all the answers it’s about staying rooted in purpose. The purpose here being our students.
To Campus Compact and AmeriCorps, thank you for believing that national service is more than a resume builder. For believing that people can transform through discomfort; that growth is just as valuable as output; that stories, like mine, matter.
Because here’s the truth: I may not have been the most polished VISTA. But this role changed my life.
This year taught me how to fail and keep going. It taught me that strength doesn’t always show up loud and confident; sometimes it’s quiet and persistent. Sometimes it’s just getting back up again.
And now, I’m proud to share that I’ve been accepted into a graduate program in Marriage and Family Therapy, and I’ll be staying at Southern as a graduate intern in the Office of Student Involvement. That future—one I couldn’t see a year ago—is now something I wake up excited to pursue.
But more than anything else, this year gave me back to myself.
And to anyone listening who works in this space, whether you’re a VISTA, a site supervisor, a regional manager, or someone who helps build these opportunities behind the scenes: I want to say thank you.
Because someone like me who wasn’t sure where he was going, who didn’t have it all figured out, who felt behind in life, was given a chance.
And that chance turned into a year of growth, of impact, of direction, and of healing.
So as I move forward, I carry this experience with me. Not just as a chapter, but as part of the foundation I’ll continue to build on.
And I hope that every person in this room, whether you’re serving or supporting, remembers that your presence, your patience, and your belief in the power of service… can change someone’s life.
It changed mine.
Thank you.”
Romeo’s story is a moving reminder of what national service is all about. AmeriCorps service goes beyond the measurable outcomes volunteers have on their communities. It also provides an opportunity for transformation when someone is given the chance to grow, contribute, and lead. His journey reflects the spirit of AmeriCorps at its core: bringing out the best in America—in the communities we serve, and in the people who rise to serve them.