From a Broken Bottle to Building Hope

“We had to share everything—food, clothes, eventhe smallest comforts.”

When El talks about her childhood, her voice doesn’t waver—but the weight of her words sits with you. She grew up in a small, tight-knit community in the Philippines, one of seven siblings in a home where shoes were a luxury and water had to be fetched from the river. Electricity was unreliable. School required an hour-long walk—on an empty stomach, more often than not. “We had to share everything—food, clothes, even the smallest comforts,” she says. “But our community was full of warmth and respect. We helped each other because life was already hard.”

One moment in particular etched itself into her memory—a moment that would quietly shape her sense of dignity and drive. “I used to carry my drinking water to school in an old glass ketchup bottle. One day, some bullies dropped it on purpose. It shattered, soaked my books, and I had to wait outside the classroom while my teacher tried to dry everything. I remember standing there crying and thinking, someday… someday I’m going to have a real water bottle. That was my biggest dream at the time.”

That experience, along with the support she received through PLAN International’s foster program, gave El a first glimpse of life beyond her immediate surroundings. Sponsored by a foster family in the U.S., she would write them letters in English, updating them about her schoolwork while her mother helped shape her words. “It felt like someone out there cared. I didn’t understand the full meaning of it until I was older, but it planted something in me—an idea that I could someday pay that kindness forward.”

Fast forward years later, El made the life-changing move to the United States. But the transition wasn’t easy. “Everything here moves fast. Back home, if something went wrong, you could just sit under a tree, talk to your mom. Here, I didn’t know where to go or who to talk to. I had to give myself permission to adjust slowly—to not expect homesickness to go away in a year. It still visits me sometimes, but I’ve learned to let that be okay.”

So what kept her grounded during this reinvention of self? “My faith. And understanding that courage doesn’t mean not being scared—it means moving forward despite the fear,” she says. She points to a tattoo on her arm, a constant reminder of that belief.

Even today, imposter syndrome creeps in. “Sometimes I ask myself—do I even belong here? But then I think about where I came from. I remember that not everyone gets this opportunity. That’s what keeps me going. And knowing there are kids back home looking up to me, and the unwavering support of my family, that’s my fuel.”

A major turning point in El’s journey came when she reconnected with Marty Crotty, her former colleague from the Philippines. He had been the president of AES Philippines while she worked as a paralegal. “When I moved to San Diego, and Marty found out, he messaged me out of nowhere—‘Hey, neighbor!’” she laughs. That simple message led to an opportunity that would change the trajectory of her career. Marty introduced her to people in the renewable energy space, encouraging her to take the leap. “He didn’t hand me anything. He made it clear I had to do the work. But he opened the door. He and his wife, Cara, even took me in for over a year when I was going through personal challenges. They became my family when I didn’t have one here.”

Today, El works in compliance at Cypress Creek Renewables, where she brings not only experience but also a profound sense of purpose. “I lead with empathy. I listen. Because if all you care about is checking boxes, you’re missing the bigger picture. Compliance isn’t just about rules—it’s about people. If someone on the team is struggling, I want to understand why—not just what’s in the SOP.” 

That mindset is deeply rooted in her identity as an immigrant woman. “I don’t lead with ego. I lead with care. And I follow through. If I say we’re going to make something better, I show up until it’s done. That’s how trust is built.” 

But for El, success isn’t defined by promotions or paychecks. “Success is the impact I leave behind. If I’m growing in my career but not making the people around me feel seen, safe, or inspired—then what’s the point?” 

True to her word, El founded Pay It Forward for the Kids in the Philippines, a volunteer-run nonprofit that provides school supplies, hygiene kits, meals, and—yes—water bottles to underserved children in the mountain regions of her hometown. “If we raise funds for 300 kids, I personally donate 300 water bottles. It’s full circle. I tell every kid: have dreams, set goals, and don’t stop until you get there, no matter what the circumstances are.”

Even with all she’s accomplished, El is the first to say she’s still growing. “I’m still finding my voice. Leadership is a journey, not a destination. But if I could tell other women, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds, one thing—it would be: Don’t stop learning. Be relentless. Be resilient. You belong here. Find mentors. Learn from people who are humble, driven, and not just good leaders but also team players. And most of all, keep showing up for yourself.” 

When asked what #ComplianceMatters means to her, El doesn’t hesitate. “It’s not just about the checklist. It’s about your commitment to doing the right thing—for your team, for your company, and for the future. That’s what ethical leadership looks like. That’s what matters.”

“Success isn’t about how far I’ve come—it’s about how many people I bring with me.”