When I think about my journey in the legal profession—from law school to partnership to leading my own firm—I don’t just think about the cases, the clients, or the wins. I think about the people who helped me get here. I think about the mentors who took time to guide me, the colleagues who believed in me, and the community that shaped me. And now, after more than three decades in this field, I believe it’s my responsibility—and privilege—to pay that forward by mentoring the next generation of Latino lawyers.

There’s something powerful about seeing someone who looks like you, sounds like you, and shares your background succeed in spaces where you may have felt like an outsider. Growing up in Miami as a Cuban-American, I was fortunate to live in a city rich with diversity, but that didn’t mean the path into the legal profession was obvious or easy. I didn’t come from a family of lawyers. I didn’t have a built-in network. But I had drive, education, and eventually, a few key people who took an interest in helping me grow.

That support made all the difference. And now, I try to be that person for others.

Mentorship Is More Than Advice

Mentoring isn’t just about reviewing résumés or offering tips on how to interview. Those things matter, but mentorship goes deeper. It’s about truly seeing someone, listening to them, and helping them believe in themselves—especially when the world gives them reasons to doubt. For young Latino lawyers, that sense of support is crucial. Even in 2025, the legal field remains dominated by voices and faces that don’t reflect the full fabric of our society. Representation is growing, yes—but not fast enough.

When I mentor law students or young professionals, I try to provide more than just technical knowledge. I try to give them context. I tell them what I’ve learned through experience—about how to walk into a boardroom with confidence, how to navigate politics at a large firm, how to maintain your identity while adapting to different professional settings. I remind them that they belong, that their background is a strength, and that the values they grew up with—family, perseverance, community—will serve them well in their careers.

Building the Pipeline

One of the reasons I remain deeply involved in organizations like CABA (the Cuban American Bar Association) and the South Florida Hispanic Chamber of Commerce is because I believe in the power of networks. For Latino lawyers, building connections can be one of the most challenging parts of entering the profession. Many of us don’t come from families with deep legal ties or access to elite institutions. That’s why mentorship must be coupled with access—access to internships, clerkships, speaking opportunities, and leadership roles.

Part of my work over the years has been to open those doors. Whether through formal programs or one-on-one relationships, I’ve made it a mission to support emerging Latino talent. It’s not about handouts—it’s about leveling the playing field. Talent is everywhere. What’s not everywhere is opportunity. And if those of us who’ve found some measure of success don’t reach back to help, then we’re missing the point entirely.

Why Representation Matters

There’s a unique kind of power in walking into a courtroom, a boardroom, or a law school classroom and seeing someone who shares your cultural heritage at the head of the table. For young Latino lawyers, that moment can be transformative. I’ve had law students come up to me after events and say, “I didn’t know someone like me could do what you do.” That’s heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time.

It reminds me that we’re not just building careers—we’re building visibility. We’re creating models of success that go beyond stereotypes or assumptions. And every time a Latino lawyer steps into a leadership role, it expands what’s possible for those coming up behind us.

The Long View

Legacy is a word we don’t always talk about in the legal profession, but it’s one I think about often. What do we leave behind when the deals are done, the cases are closed, and the headlines have faded? For me, the answer is clear: legacy is measured by the people we help lift along the way.

I’ve had the honor of mentoring some truly impressive young lawyers—people who are now partners, general counsels, judges, and public servants. Watching them thrive is one of the most rewarding parts of my career. They don’t need me anymore—and that’s the point. They’ve found their footing, and now they’re turning around to help the next generation.

That’s how change happens. One conversation at a time. One opportunity at a time.

Being a Latino lawyer in America today comes with challenges, yes—but also with an enormous sense of purpose. We’re not just here to practice law. We’re here to shift the landscape. We’re here to be voices for our communities, advocates for fairness, and mentors to those following in our footsteps.

I never forget where I came from, and I never forget who helped me along the way. That memory fuels me. It reminds me that leadership isn’t about titles. It’s about service. And for me, mentoring the next generation isn’t just a duty—it’s a calling.