Nidia Trujillo shares about her struggles in Berkeley and support from the community.
I moved to Berkeley because I believed in what it stood for. Like so many others, I was drawn to its reputation for compassion, justice and community. It felt like the kind of place where people looked out for one another. I wanted my daughter to grow up believing those values weren’t just ideals, they were a way of life.
Then life changed. Illness forced me to ask for help. I found myself navigating housing services, disability offices, and the maze of systems created for people in crisis. More often than I expected, I walked away feeling less like a neighbor and more like a case file. No one was intentionally unkind. Yet, something essential seemed to disappear in the space between needing help and receiving it.
At the same time, my young daughter was teaching me something entirely different. Children don’t measure a person’s worth before deciding how to treat them. They don’t ask whether someone has a home, a job, good credit, or perfect health. They simply see another human being. Watching her made me wonder what we learn as adults that makes this so difficult.
Every community eventually faces a test – not when life is comfortable, but when someone is vulnerable. In those moments, our values aren’t found in speeches or mission statements. They’re revealed in ordinary interactions: across a reception desk, through a phone call or email returned, in the few extra seconds we spend looking someone in the eye. Berkeley still inspires me. That’s precisely why I’m writing this. Communities aren’t defined by the values they proclaim.
They’re defined by whether the people who need those values most can actually feel them. My daughter reminds me every day that dignity begins with something beautifully simple: before we see a problem to solve, we have to see the person standing in front of us. Perhaps that’s the Berkeley – and the world – we’re all still trying to build. With a Perspective, I’m Nidia Trujillo.
Nidia Trujillo is a management consultant and writer exploring humanity, belonging, motherhood and the systems that shape our lives. A Guatemalan immigrant, she lives in the East Bay with her family.