“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Every evening my father walked through the kitchen, caressed my mother’s shoulder as she prepared dinner, and headed to the backyard.

He unraveled the hose, screwed on the attachment, and started to water the plants he loved so much.

I still remember the sound of the water softly hitting the banana tree leaves, the droplets left behind on limes that were ready to be picked, and the slow trickle off the thorns of red roses.

Summer evenings were the best time to keep him company while he watered because we would sit outside as the sky turned yellow, pink, and purple. We would watch planes fly so close I felt like I could touch them—a steady stream headed to LAX.

We couldn’t afford tickets for those planes. My parents had only dreamt of seeing planes someday as they grew up with nothing in rural El Salvador. And now, they remind my parents of a country they were forced to leave during a civil war.

I want to elevate stories from underrepresented groups that need to be told on the big screen and give kids from low-income neighborhoods the opportunity to achieve their wildest dreams – dreams that fly so low that you could almost touch them.

— Adan Acevedo