Introducing Olivia Mazyck, Our 2025 Youth of the Year

This past November, we watched proudly as Olivia Mazyck, a member of Heartshare's American Dream Program, accepted the 2025 Youth of the Year Award at Heartshare’s Fall Benefit for St. Vincent’s Family Services.

As we celebrate Olivia’s achievements, we invite you to hear her story in her own words. The following is Olivia’s Youth of the Year acceptance speech—a testament to resilience, hope, and the power of believing in yourself.

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"There was a moment when my world split in two — the life I had known, and the one I was being forced into. I was 11 years old when I was removed from my mother’s care and placed into foster care. It was one of the most confusing and painful experiences of my life. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I shut down.

But instead of being placed with strangers, I ended up in the home of two people I already knew — friends of my mom who I had always called Auntie Jackie and Uncle Chris. I would like to thank my aunt and uncle for always believing in me and keeping me focused when I felt like breaking down. Their house became my new home. It was unfamiliar in many ways, but it was also the first place I ever started to feel truly safe.

Before foster care, I had left school in the third grade. I hadn’t had medical help in years. I didn’t know how to care for myself properly — even common knowledge of simple self-care was something I had to learn from scratch. I felt embarrassed, like I had missed out on everything kids my age were supposed to know. I felt invisible, and worse — like I wasn’t worth the effort.

But Auntie Jackie and Uncle Chris didn’t see me that way. They saw potential where I saw brokenness. I still remember one moment, early on, when Auntie Jackie showed me how to care for myself properly (she taught me how to appreciate who I was and what I looked like). She didn’t make me feel ashamed. She just made me feel cared for.

Before foster care, I felt invisible, and worse — like I wasn’t worth the effort. But my foster family didn't see me that way. They saw potential where I saw brokenness.

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Starting school again after many years felt like walking into a storm. I was behind academically, socially, and emotionally. I remember my first day back as if it were yesterday. I sat at a desk in a classroom full of students who all seemed to know what they were doing, and I felt like a ghost. But that day, one teacher gave me a notebook and said, “This is yours. You get to start fresh.” That sentence stayed with me. It was the first time I thought maybe I could catch up. Maybe I could even go further.

Therapy was hard at first. I would like to thank My Therapist, Mr. Damon, for sticking with me even before I was ready to talk about what I had gone through. You never gave up hope in me. I thought silence was strength. But one session, after weeks of barely speaking, my therapist asked me a simple question: “When was the last time you felt proud of yourself?” I sat there, frozen. I couldn’t think of anything. And that broke me open. I cried for the first time in years. From that moment on, I knew I had to find the answer — I had to start building a version of myself I could be proud of.

Piece by piece, I began to heal. I focused on school. I learned how to care for myself — body, mind, and soul. I discovered that I loved to learn. I started setting goals. And slowly, I stopped believing the lie that I wasn’t worth anything.

Years later, I walked across the stage to receive my high school diploma, Magna Cum Laude — something that once felt impossible. I was also honored with the Triple “C” Award by New York Attorney General Letitia James for Courage, Character, and Commitment. That was the moment I had the answer to my therapist’s question. That was the moment I felt truly proud of myself.

“Rising” for me isn’t about having it all figured out. I still struggle to find myself some days. I still go to therapy. But rising means showing up anyway. It means choosing growth even when it’s painful. It means taking pride in the girl who didn’t know how to brush her teeth — because she’s now a young woman with a future, a voice, and a fire inside her that refuses to burn out, with an Aspiration to help people in their dire moments by becoming a criminal defense attorney.

Piece by piece, I began to heal. I focused on school. I learned how to care for myself — body, mind, and soul. I discovered that I loved to learn. I started setting goals. And slowly, I stopped believing the lie that I wasn’t worth anything.

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What built me wasn’t just surviving foster care. It was the love, patience, and belief my foster parents and my siblings gave me. It was the moments they held me when I wanted to fall apart. Brooke, the sister who always stood beside me through dark times, always bringing joy to my saddest moments. Yvette, who's always there to lend me a listening ear and encourage me to inspire her. And to my ADP coaches, Ms Kayla and Ms. Anastasia, you helped me build my future by providing me with the tools for life and school. You both assisted me through pivotal points in my life, from my college application to prom, and getting settled into dorm life. Through the laughs, the crying, and the arguments, you all have been there for me—the people who didn’t let me give up.  Today, I stand tall — not because I had an easy life, but because I kept rising anyway.  I was built to rise. And I am still rising."

Olivia Mazyck, 2025 Youth of the Year

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