I graduated from a university on the Island, but I was forced to seek another place to practice my profession without so many obstacles—a place where my education and desire to serve would be valued, and where government processes wouldn’t feel like an endless obstacle course. (Photo: Provided)
To the government, should it care to listen…
I begin this column with a painful illusion: if only the Government of Puerto Rico truly cared about the well-being of its people. I am a clinical social worker by vocation and training. I graduated from a university on the Island, but I was forced to seek another place to practice my profession without so many obstacles—a place where my education and desire to serve would be valued, and where government processes wouldn’t feel like an endless obstacle course.
A few weeks ago, I shared an experience on social media that went viral: the stark contrast between opening a mental health agency in Puerto Rico and doing so in Orlando, Florida. What may have seemed like just another complaint to some, resonated deeply with thousands of people as a reflection of their own reality. I was struck by how many felt personally identified. I’m not alone. Many of us want to contribute, but we encounter more barriers than bridges.
My goal was to establish a mental health center serving Puerto Rico’s most vulnerable communities. I wasn’t asking for subsidies, favors, or special treatment. I simply needed the essentials to operate legally: permits, licenses, and access to clear information. But on my sland, those processes are labyrinthine, slow, and too often depend on who you know—or how long you’re willing to wait (or give in).
In contrast, everything in Orlando moved with a speed and efficiency that filled me with secondhand shame. Three weeks. That’s how long it took to receive approval from the county, following inspections by the city and the fire department. Everything was handled through digital government platforms. Communication was effective, clear, and human. There was no need to visit offices that close early or wait weeks for a response. It was a process worthy of a place that wants its people to thrive.
And here I am, writing from Florida, with a mix of joy and sadness. Joy because I know I’ll be able to continue practicing, supporting those in need, and expanding. Sadness because it won’t be in Puerto Rico, where it’s most needed. Where thousands of citizens face mental health struggles every day with few resources, limited access, and, far too often, no hope.
What is it about Puerto Rico that discourages those who want to build something honest? Why does the system favor those with connections and throw up roadblocks for those who simply have the will to try? Many of us come from humble beginnings. We’ve worked hard for what we have. And we’re also the ones who face the steepest climb just to make our voices and service count.
This isn’t a hollow complaint—it’s a statement of commitment. Because I am still Puerto Rican. Because my vocation is still alive. Because I know there are others like me: trained professionals with valuable proposals that never take off because of institutional indifference.
I share this story with you, reader, not to inspire pity, but to remind you that there are still young people fighting for the common good. That true empowerment does exist, even if it doesn’t go viral. That there are still those who believe Puerto Rico can achieve more—if only we choose to stop using bureaucracy as a weapon of exclusion and begin to value those who want to build from the ground up.
My dream was to do it in Puerto Rico. But I wasn’t allowed. Still, I will keep raising my voice—because what hurts must not be silenced.
Coralis Calderon is president of Constellation Support Services, LLC, a company with offices in Orlando and DeBary, Florida, that provides person-centered services addressing mental health issues. Coralis holds a Master's Degree in Business Administration from the Inter-American University of Puerto Rico and a Master's Degree in Social Work-Clinical and a Bachelor's Degree in Social Work from the Ana G. Mendez University in Puerto Rico.
