our story
El que no nace para servir, no sirve para vivir.
Hagamos Vaca isn’t charity—it’s solidarity. And to do it, it’s going to take all of us.
Hagamos Vaca started with one teacher. He saw his undocumented students struggling—not just to keep up in class, but to see the board. They couldn’t afford something as simple as glasses. He stepped in, found a way to help, and made sure those kids could see. But the more he got to know his students and their families, the clearer it became: the struggles didn’t stop at glasses and the needs didn’t end in one school district.
Families needed housing. They needed groceries. They needed help accessing medical care, filling prescriptions, and understanding their rights in a system that too often keeps them vulnerable. One teacher’s acts of kindness turned into a steady stream of needs too big for one person to shoulder alone. That’s when we realized this wasn’t a job for one person—it’s a job for all of us.
And now, the need is growing. Immigrant families are navigating fear, isolation, and rising barriers—from enforcement to health care to education. People are being told to stay quiet, stay hidden. Parents are afraid to take their kids to the doctor or even go to the grocery store. These are not just individual struggles—they are the result of a system built to exclude. We refuse to let that happen.
In Spanish, hagamos vaca means “let’s pitch in.” It’s what you say when someone is facing a challenge too big to handle alone. That’s exactly what this is. Together, we’re pooling our resources to make sure immigrant families in New Kent, West Point, and surrounding areas have what they need.
What do we do? Whatever people need.
We still help kids get glasses so they can see the board. But when a newly arrived family has nothing, we fill their fridge, stock their pantry, and make sure they have towels, toothbrushes, and diapers. If someone needs to see a doctor, we help schedule appointments and navigate prescriptions. When a washing machine breaks, we find one. When the water heater gives out, we replace it.
We hold Know Your Rights workshops and distribute Red Cards so families understand how to safely assert their legal protections. We push for Safe Zone policies in schools. We organize holiday drives so no child wakes up to an empty tree. And we’re growing to meet new needs every day.
We’re now launching bike clinics to help kids and families get around safely and affordably—because transportation is a form of freedom. And with NEXTversity, we’re creating a new program to support immigrant students as they imagine their futures beyond high school—connecting them with tools, resources, mentors, and opportunities to thrive.
This isn’t charity. It’s community. It’s protection. It’s about showing up when the system doesn’t—and making sure no one is left behind.
But we can’t do it alone. Every dollar you give, every hour you volunteer, every time you share our mission—you’re part of something bigger. This is urgent, lifesaving work. Immigrant families in our community can’t wait for red tape or distant solutions. They need us now.
It started with one teacher and a pair of glasses. Now, it’s a movement. And it’s growing.