Hello, my name is Isaac Kashaka. Like so many immigrants, especially those from underprivileged countries, coming to the United States is a monumental achievement, celebrated alongside life’s most important milestones like birth, baptism, graduation, employment, and marriage. When you leave for the United States, people back home look up to you with hope and pride. Because someone once extended a hand to me and offered an opportunity, I believe it’s only fair to do the same for others. For me, education is the most valuable gift a person can receive. To give back to those I left behind in Africa, I founded Umoja Primary School, which has been making a difference for 12 years now.

In my adopted home, the United States, I felt compelled to give back as well. I established Bridge The Digital Divide, a tech resource center in South Los Angeles, to help our community thrive in what is often referred to as a “tech desert.” You can learn more about this initiative at Bridgela.org.

To our beloved seniors, whom I’ve dedicated the rest of my life to supporting, I want you to know that you are not invisible, despite how society may sometimes make you feel. Over the last three years, I have been waiting for our community leaders to recognize the challenges many of you face in adapting to new technologies, and to support organizations like ours that are here to help. Unfortunately, that recognition has been slow to come.

In my own small way, I want to express my deep gratitude. Thank you for the foundation you laid, a foundation upon which we all continue to build today. I want to say thank you in person, while you’re still here. I want to hold your hand and help you navigate the digital world that has taken so many by surprise. Even in your later years, you continue to offer wisdom and insight from which I—and so many others—benefit greatly.

For the past three and a half years, I’ve had the privilege of teaching many of you digital skills. The conversations we’ve shared have been not only enlightening but, at times, heart-wrenching. The stories you’ve told me have opened my eyes to the struggles you face, struggles that make it difficult for me to sleep at night. While listening is hard, I know that sharing your experiences lightens your hearts, and it’s an honor to be there for you.

I wish the world would understand the depth of your wisdom and the burdens you carry, particularly the concern for the future you’ll leave behind for your children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. But please don’t worry—you’ve done the best you could, and with each person, we’re making progress toward a better future.