In the real estate firm where she works, Monica Rivera has a window office.
At 29, she has a great job, managing a team of agents. She has a degree from USC. The walls of her office are adorned with the awards she’s won and family photos.
In the center of one wall is a small, framed photo that stands out. It’s a faded black and white snapshot of a woman with dark hair, seated at a workbench, making something with her hands. Rivera calls her Abuela Nina – her grandmother.