Corissa Hernandez grew up in an immigrant family. As a child, she translated for her grandparents, attended private schools, and was part of the youth group in a catholic church in Boyle Heights. However, her social awareness, interest in service, and concern for others were values she learned from her parents since childhood.
“My father always told me, it’s not about what you have but what you can share,” says Corissa, an entrepreneur, educator, involved in various businesses and community activism.
“Where do we start?” I wonder.
Her resume on LinkedIn is so vast that interviewing her and choosing a topic is difficult.
She laughs.
“We went to concerts like Rage Against The Machine, Quetzal, but everything we did had to have a purpose, to feel that we existed” she says.
Corissa comes from a family originally from León, Guanajuato in Mexico. Her love for her homeland can be seen in her posts on Instagram.
“My parents always sent us there; they didn’t want us to lose our language and culture,” she adds.
Her family’s history in the United States dates back to the time of her great-grandfather, who worked in Chicago as a steelworker.
“I come, like many immigrants, from a hardworking family; that’s what they instilled in me,” she says.
“They were very hardworking; I grew up with my grandparents, my parents worked all day. They weren’t at the house much but they provide what we needed, and we always had a lot of love,” she adds.
She grew up in Boyle Heights, the love of her life. But her family sent her to private schools in other cities.
“They were very protective, very strict. There was no time for boyfriends or wasting time; they always reinforced the idea of going to college, wanting me to persue a professional career. However, upon returning to the neighborhood, I always yearned to share with my friends the experiences I had in those schools, with other people,” she says.
For her, although she now resides in El Sereno, “Boyle Heights is home”.
“All my life, I have been focused on empowering the Latino people of Boyle Heights; I am very involved in many organizations, I have a business there, but it pains me to see what is happening. People are still struggling after the pandemic and do not have access to the resources they need,” she says.
Her political and social transformation began at Cal State Pomona, studying sociology, where she joined MEChA (Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlán; “Chicano Student Movement of Aztlán”), an organization that seeks to promote Chicano unity and empowerment through political action.
“There, I discovered and became aware of all the needs of our community. The lack of access to services, fundamental education and resources,” she says.
Corissa not only became aware but took action.
“I joined the work of different organizations and other causes. I remembered my father’s words, ‘it’s not about how much you have but how much you give,'” she adds.
During spring break, Corissa didn’t go to Miami or Cancun; instead, she went to indigenous reservations to bring donations to the population.
“Everyone would laugh when they heard about it, but for me, it was and still is important work,” she adds.
She preferred to stay in after-school programs and keep learning. Her family, seeing these changes, supported her; she was doing something they had always instilled in her.
“If we want changes, we must support; that’s my philosophy to this day,” she mentions.
She was also a teenager who enjoyed music, moving forward, but with a purpose.
“We went to see Rage Against The Machine, Quetzal, but everything had to have a purpose, to feel that we existed, breathed,” she says.
Corissa thinks and reflects on her role models withough much struggle. She mentions Gandhi, Malcolm X, and Dolores Huerta.
“I have been exposed to them; they are the ones who made me who I am. Seeing the level of sacrifice, the impact they created,” she says.
“The problems of street vendors are not a game, housing problems are not a game, the lack of access to education is not a game. We must take action,” she says convinced.
During the pandemic, she lost one of her businesses. It was devastating for her and her husband, Gabriel Paredes.
“I cried, I screamed. We come from families that didn’t have much money. But then, that strength that we Latinos, migrants have, pulled us through. We weren’t going to let ourselves be defeated. And there it helped me to understand what is happening to our community. I saw that they didn’t know how to ask for grants, how to ask for help, how to get out of that hole, and there the idea of giving advice, guiding them was born,” she says, now co-owner of House of Xelas, Nativo, and other consulting businesses.
Corissa is a warrior, a person who doesn’t give up, but she is also a dreamer. She believes that changes can be made in the community, that they can unite, join hands, and transform Latinos.
“You seem like Gandhi,” I say.
“It’s complicated, but it’s what I think. The problems with street vendors is not a game, the housing problem is not a game, the lack of access to education is not a game. We must take action,” she says convinced.
In her activism, she doesn’t know what will happen in the future; perhaps she will run for a political office in the coming years.
“For now, I want to continue with my involvement in working with politicians, organizations, continue to make a difference day by day. I am happy, but heartbroken about what is happening. If we work together, we can change things. I firmly believe in small businesses; progress can be achieved,” she adds.
She has just launched Proyecto Cielo with her husband to empower the Latino population, marking the beginning of her contribution.
“Everything comes from the communities; we must continue fighting and uniting them,” she concludes.