Sandra Sanchez (Copywriting, 2026)
There’s never a right time to bring up in conversation that your dad has died. It’s not your typical icebreaker, nor does it fit the category of “fun facts.”
Once people eventually find out, they usually don’t ask any questions. Ever noticed that someone will ask you questions about your living relative, but not your dead one? It’s like everyone’s too afraid to ask anything because it makes them uncomfortable. So I don’t always get a chance to talk about him. But since coming to Brandcenter, I’ve decided to change that.
Attending Brandcenter as an out-of-state student meant no one knew my story. I could truly just be myself. I’ve always been a positive person—so much so that I joke about being a ray of sunshine. Whether or not others would agree with that, I knew my positivity would be a reliable crutch when it came to group projects and making friends. What I didn’t know is that my vulnerability would be the thing that gave me a sense of purpose. I told myself I wouldn’t shy away from telling those close to me about my dad if given the chance.
Turns out, it’s actually quite easy once you get past the awkward “I’m sorry”s. Usually, I’ll respond with a dry “Me too” and wait for a laugh that never comes. I tend to mask my sadness with humor. It’s fun.
But in all seriousness, moving away from the life I once lived has given me such a gift. In a weird way, it’s allowed me to feel closer to what I’ve lost, and not be afraid to go after what I really want. Take Brandcenter, for instance. I never would have had the courage to apply if it wasn’t for my insane, borderline delusional optimism. I always loved to write, but I lacked the courage to make a career out of it. That is until I thought about how proud my parents would be of me if I not only pursued a career out of passion, but out of mindless determination. Each day that I shuffle into the building, I battle imposter syndrome until I remind myself how overjoyed everyone will be when I finally become a “super cool copywriter.” Each day, I stumble back out with a new sense of dedication.
Interestingly enough, this place has given me the strength to not only go for the life I’ve always wanted, but to keep the life I used to have close to my heart. Which includes channeling my dad’s fighting spirit and strength. Every hundredth headline, every sleepless night, and every tear I’ve shed over writing manifestos for reptiles is just another reminder that I’m so much stronger than I once thought. It’s also a reminder that my dad would be proud of me—though he’d probably tell me to stop going to the 7-Eleven across the street for overpriced canned coffee.
I started writing letters to him. Obviously I don’t send them, but at least I have them. I try to cook more, because he always said I could be a chef someday. I also just try to talk about him more to my newfound friends. I tell them he was someone incredibly strong who took care of everyone; that he gave me everything I wanted and made me feel like a Disney princess. I doubt I’d have found the courage to open up and even write this in the first place if I hadn’t gained so much strength after starting this program. So although Brandcenter can never bring my dad back home to me, it’s allowed me to connect with his spirit in ways I’ll carry with me until I see him again.
