5 minute read
From Hardship to Helping Others
Samantha Magaña Dreams of Fostering Joy and Stability for Vulnerable Children
By Lori Gilbert
Spend even a few minutes with Stan State senior Samantha Magaña and the word “joyous” comes to mind.
The child development major, who expects to finish her degree in December and walk in next spring’s Commencement ceremony, radiates warmth and friendliness.
That Magaña exudes happiness is extraordinary because the 23-year-old's life has been anything but.
Growing up with a father struggling with substance abuse and alcoholism, Magaña vividly remembers the turmoil and the times when he, without any reason, would kick his three children out of their home. They’d stay with relatives in Oakdale or Modesto, and she’d commute to Turlock High School, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.
A year into Stan State, where she planned to study to become a pediatric nurse, her dad, Bernabe, was diagnosed with stage four gastric cancer.
Despite their fraught relationship, Magaña’s passion for helping kicked in. She drove him to treatments at Stanford and cared for him at home.
It continued for months, and she didn’t know what day might be her dad’s last. Meanwhile, her studies suffered.
“I realized I couldn’t do nursing,” Magaña said. “I had to be realistic with myself, and I thought, ‘I don’t think I can do this because of the time commitment.’”
She decided to focus on her dream — helping children.
More than giving her advice, Cervantes Morder was determined to help keep Magaña in school.
“I felt that because of everything I went through, I could help other children,” she said. “I know what it’s like to live in that house. I know what it’s like to have toxic people around you. I know what it’s like to have a dad that drinks or does drugs or to have abuse in the family. That’s the main reason I always wanted to help children.”
Her Educational Opportunity Program (EOP) advisor, Gabriela (Gaby) Cervantes Morder, saw Magaña’s potential and pain and gently guided her toward studying child development, believing it would suit Magaña’s passion for nurturing young lives.
“I knew an education in child development would prepare her — whether she wanted to be a teacher or social worker,” Cervantes Morder said. “It was going to give her different options.”
“When we first met, her dad had started chemo, so she was dedicating time to taking her dad to medical appointments and taking care of him at home,” Cervantes Morder said. “So, I wondered, ‘Who’s taking care of you?’ I felt more like a big sister. I am the oldest in my family and that automatically kicks in. I asked her, ‘What can I do to support you?’”
Cervantes Morder took the extraordinary step of giving Magaña her cell phone number.
“She is the only student I have ever shared my number with because I didn’t want to lose touch with her,” said Cervantes Morder, a Stan State alumna who has spent 10 of her 19 years at the University in EOP, a program for first-generation students with limited economic resources. “I needed to make sure she was OK.”
Magaña’s father died in July 2021, two years after his diagnosis.
She and her brother, Juan, made peace with their father before he passed away. Toward the end, Juan took over as the primary caregiver while Magaña worked and went to school full-time — and their mom worked too.
Cervantes Morder suggested Magaña take a break from school after her father died.
“I know everyone grieves differently,” Magaña said. “My grieving was to keep going, and I kept going.”
She did that until October, when the weight of her loss finally hit her.
“October 2021 was probably the hardest month of my life,” Magaña said. “I got depression. I got anxiety. I lost 15 pounds. I felt I was in such a black hole. Nothing or no one could take me out of it. I wanted to give up, but I knew my dad wanted me to keep going. Before my dad passed away, one of the things he told me was, ‘Wherever I am when I’m gone, bring me your diploma.’ I feel that’s embedded in my head. That’s what’s kept me going.”
That promise — and her faith in God — have kept her moving forward.
“I wouldn’t be where I am today without Gaby,” Magaña said. “She’s helped me and guided me the whole way. She knows my whole story. She’s seen me shed tears. She’s seen me with a broken heart. She’s also a big part of why I kept going when I wanted to give up.”
Four months after her father’s death, Magaña’s mother moved on, began a relationship with a boyfriend and disowned Magaña and her 18-year-old brother when they moved out of their childhood home.
Despite the hardship, they both persevered.
Juan and his girlfriend have a baby, and he is working for an agency caring for individuals with behavioral needs.
Magaña, now a semester away from earning her degree, plans to pursue graduate studies and a career helping children who need a strong advocate.
“I’m here now, ready to graduate and so happy to reach this milestone in my journey,” Magaña said. “I know my dad is watching me from up above, and as I walk the stage, I’ll be in tears. The weight of my experiences will be lifted when I lay my diploma on his gravestone, knowing that all the struggles were worth it and that he’s with me in spirit every step of the way.”
I felt that because of everything I went through, I could help other children. I know what it’s like to live in that house. I know what it’s like to have toxic people around you.
- Samantha Magaña, Child Development Major
