As a child, I built imaginary objects with Legos. Every figure, no matter their background, contributed to the community. My New Mexican family, however, consisted of trades workers and college dropouts. They believed higher education wasn’t meant for Hispanic people like us. When I entered high school, I was at a disadvantage. My school didn’t enroll me in a math class, meaning I had to study on my own. Once I enrolled, I fell behind in my coursework and struggled with basic algebra. Struggling with concepts like slope and parabolas, my teacher recommended holding me back a year. However, I believed I could pursue STEM, even with these disadvantages. I committed to improving, and by our final project, I modeled real-world scenarios using algebra. My teacher gave me an “A” on the project, commenting on how far I’d come. I’d gone from failing her class to an 80%. I fell through the cracks in our school’s system, as many young Hispanic students do. From improper placement to fewer economic opportunities, Hispanic youth are often at a disadvantage in our system. Rather than joining a statistic, I worked to create local change within my school. I aimed to expand STEM pathways in my school. My first change was acting as a tour guide for the Class of 2030. I focused on the math and science departments, allowing them to engage with lessons that introduced STEM concepts. For example, when my pre-calculus teacher taught them about derivatives, I acted as a teacher’s aide. I felt proud, coming so far from that freshman who struggled with math. Later in the year, I coordinated with my guidance counselor to arrange a visit to New Mexico Tech, a local STEM school. Many STEM-focused peers enrolled after the presentation. Afterward, my guidance counselor arranged three more college visits. Many New Mexican students who couldn’t attend now have contacts and friends at those schools, giving them clearer college pathways. Through these efforts, I created the STEM support system I once lacked. As I look toward my old Lego structures, I see more than structures—I see support systems. The systems that once failed me are shaped to expand education access. To create educated STEM leaders, I introduced new pathways for young Hispanic students. In my future at New Mexico Tech, my goal is to expand STEM access in New Mexico, helping build educated, confident leaders who shape the future of their communities.

When my advisor told me community service was a requirement, I groaned. I liked to call in sick or miss those days. When I actually participated, however, I found that service to the community is one of my ideals. At the storehouse, I worked to pack over 200 bags of groceries. Every bag brought me closer to my community, allowing for an internal change in meeting my peers. I believe community service brings people closer. On the other hand, I changed by packing and handing out these bags to many people, from single mothers to homeless people. After this trip, I began to emphasize community service. I would show up every day, initiate projects of my own, and encourage my peers not to call in. This deed brought me closer to my community and helped to make local change. As I continue to volunteer through my senior year, I believe community service is one of the best things people can do to impact our local communities. Even just one change can help others. When my advisor said community service is a requirement for graduation, I groaned. I preferred to call in sick those days, but unknown to me, there was a surprise service trip. My advisor asked me something that changed my perspective: “Why do you hate service so much when you could be in their same shoes?” That question made me realize that service isn’t just an obligation—it’s a privilege. When we arrived at the local food bank, I put on gloves and packed food for many people. Poverty affects everyone, from single mothers to homeless people. With my classmates, I worked to pack over 400 bags. I felt a personal connection to what I was doing, as if by packing food, I was making a difference in my community. As I took off my gloves, I realized service wasn’t some cruel requirement, but a way to give back to my community. After the trip, I refused to miss a service day. However, in my senior year, I realized service could also come from my experience. I served my community by providing local education options, from arranging college visits to touring future students. I realized that I was passionate about education in underserved communities. Even if they weren’t at a food bank, students in my community are often disadvantaged and unable to pursue opportunities. One question made me realize that I should be grateful for the sacrifices that brought me here, and work to help out the greater community through service.

As a child, I built imaginary objects with Legos. Every figure, no matter their background, contributed to the community. My New Mexican family, however, consisted of trades workers and college dropouts. They believed higher education wasn’t meant for Hispanic people like us. When I entered high school, I was at a disadvantage. My school didn’t enroll me in a math class, meaning I had to study on my own. Once I enrolled, I fell behind in my coursework and struggled with basic algebra. Struggling with concepts like slope and parabolas, my teacher recommended holding me back a year. However, I believed I could pursue STEM, even with these disadvantages. I committed to improving, and by our final project, I modeled real-world scenarios using algebra. My teacher gave me an “A” on the project, commenting on how far I’d come. I’d gone from failing her class to an 80%. I fell through the cracks in our school’s system, as many young Hispanic students do. From improper placement to fewer economic opportunities, Hispanic youth are often at a disadvantage in our system. Rather than joining a statistic, I worked to create local change within my school. I aimed to expand STEM pathways in my school. My first change was acting as a tour guide for the Class of 2030. I focused on the math and science departments, allowing them to engage with lessons that introduced STEM concepts. For example, when my pre-calculus teacher taught them about derivatives, I acted as a teacher’s aide. I felt proud, coming so far from that freshman who struggled with math. Later in the year, I coordinated with my guidance counselor to arrange a visit to New Mexico Tech, a local STEM school. Many STEM-focused peers enrolled after the presentation. Afterward, my guidance counselor arranged three more college visits. Many New Mexican students who couldn’t attend now have contacts and friends at those schools, giving them clearer college pathways. Through these efforts, I created the STEM support system I once lacked. As I look toward my old Lego structures, I see more than structures—I see support systems. This is my passion in STEM: to apply systematic knowledge to create a more inclusive field. To create educated STEM leaders, I introduced new pathways for young Hispanic students. In my future at New Mexico Tech, my goal is to expand STEM access for young New Mexicans, helping build educated, confident leaders who shape the future of their communities.

As a child, I built imaginary objects with Legos. Every figure, no matter their background, contributed to the community. My New Mexican family, however, consisted of trades workers and college dropouts. They believed higher education wasn’t meant for us. When I entered high school, I was at a disadvantage. My school didn’t enroll me in a math class. When I enrolled, I fell behind in my coursework and struggled with basic algebra. My teacher recommended holding me back a year. However, I believed I could pursue STEM. I committed to improving, and at the end of the semester, I’d gone from failing to an 80%. I fell through the cracks in our school’s system, as many young Hispanic students do. Rather than joining a statistic, I worked to create local change within my school. I aimed to expand STEM pathways in my school. My first change was acting as a tour guide. I focused on the math and science departments, allowing them to engage with STEM lessons. Later in the year, I coordinated with my guidance counselor to arrange a visit to New Mexico Tech, a local STEM school. Many STEM-focused peers enrolled after the presentation. New Mexican students who couldn’t attend now have contacts and friends at those schools, giving them clearer college pathways. In my future at New Mexico Tech, my goal is to expand STEM access in New Mexico, helping build educated, confident leaders who shape the future of their communities.

As a child, I built imaginary objects with Legos. Every figure, no matter their background, contributed to the community. My New Mexican family, however, consisted of trades workers and college dropouts. They believed higher education wasn’t meant for Hispanic people like us. When I entered high school, I was at a disadvantage. My school didn’t enroll me in a math class, meaning I had to study on my own. Once I enrolled, I fell behind in my coursework and struggled with basic algebra. Struggling with concepts like slope and parabolas, my teacher recommended holding me back a year. However, I believed I could pursue STEM, even with the disadvantages I faced. I committed to improving, and by our final project, I modeled real-world scenarios using algebra. My teacher gave me an “A” on the project, commenting on how far I’d come. I’d gone from failing her class to an 80%. I fell through the cracks in our school’s system, as many young Hispanic students do. From improper placement to fewer economic opportunities, Hispanic youth are often at a disadvantage in our system. Rather than joining a statistic, I worked to create local change within my school. I aimed to expand STEM pathways in my school. My first change was acting as a tour guide for the Class of 2030. I focused on the math and science departments, allowing them to engage with lessons that introduced STEM concepts. For example, when my pre-calculus teacher taught them about derivatives, I acted as a teacher’s aide. I felt proud, coming so far from that freshman who struggled with math. Later in the year, I coordinated with my guidance counselor to arrange a visit to New Mexico Tech, a local STEM school. Many STEM-focused peers enrolled after the presentation. Afterward, my guidance counselor arranged three more college visits. Many New Mexican students who couldn’t attend now have contacts and friends at those schools, giving them clearer college pathways. Through these efforts, I created the STEM support system I once lacked. As I look toward my old Lego structures, I see more than structures—I see support systems. My compassion comes from the discrimination I once faced. To create educated STEM leaders, I introduced new pathways for young Hispanic students. In my future at New Mexico Tech, my goal is to expand STEM access in New Mexico, helping build educated, confident leaders who shape the future of their communities.

As a child, I built imaginary objects with Legos. Every figure, no matter their background, contributed to the community. My New Mexican family, however, consisted of trades workers and college dropouts. They believed higher education wasn’t meant for Hispanic people like us. When I entered high school, I was at a disadvantage. My school didn’t enroll me in a math class, meaning I had to study on my own. Once I enrolled, I fell behind in my coursework and struggled with basic algebra. Struggling with concepts like slope and parabolas, my teacher recommended holding me back a year. However, I believed I could pursue STEM, even with these disadvantages. I committed to improving, and by our final project, I modeled real-world scenarios using algebra. My teacher gave me an “A” on the project, commenting on how far I’d come. I’d gone from failing her class to an 80%. I fell through the cracks in our school’s system, as many young Hispanic students do. From improper placement to fewer economic opportunities, Hispanic youth are often at a disadvantage in our system. Rather than joining a statistic, I worked to create local change within my school. I aimed to expand STEM pathways in my school. My first change was acting as a tour guide for the Class of 2030. I focused on the math and science departments, allowing them to engage with lessons that introduced STEM concepts. For example, when my pre-calculus teacher taught them about derivatives, I acted as a teacher’s aide. I felt proud, coming so far from that freshman who struggled with math. Later in the year, I coordinated with my guidance counselor to arrange a visit to New Mexico Tech, a local STEM school. Many STEM-focused peers enrolled after the presentation. Afterward, my guidance counselor arranged three more college visits. Many New Mexican students who couldn’t attend now have contacts and friends at those schools, giving them clearer college pathways. Through these efforts, I created the STEM support system I once lacked. As I look toward my old Lego structures, I see more than structures—I see support systems. To create educated STEM leaders, I introduced new pathways for young Hispanic students. In my future at New Mexico Tech, my goal is to expand STEM access in New Mexico, helping build educated, confident leaders who shape the future of their communities.

As a child, I built imaginary objects with Legos. Every figure, regardless of background, contributed to the community. My New Mexican family, however, consisted of trades workers and college dropouts. They believed higher education wasn’t meant for Hispanic people like us. When I entered high school, I was at a disadvantage. My school didn’t enroll me in a math class, meaning I had to study on my own. Once I enrolled, I fell behind in my coursework and struggled with basic algebra. Due to my struggles with concepts like slope and parabolas, my teacher recommended holding me back a year. However, I believed I could pursue STEM, even with these disadvantages. I committed to improving in the class, and by our final project, I modeled a missile strike scenario using algebraic concepts. My teacher gave me an “A” on the project, commenting on how far I’d come. I’d gone from failing her class to an 80%. I fell through the cracks in our school’s system, as many young Hispanic students do. From improper placement to fewer economic opportunities, Hispanic youth are often at a disadvantage in our system. Rather than joining a statistic, I worked to create local change within my school. I aimed to expand STEM pathways in my school. My first change was acting as a tour guide for the Class of 2030. I focused on the math and science departments, allowing them to engage with lessons that introduced STEM concepts. For example, when my pre-calculus teacher taught them about derivatives, I acted as a teacher’s aide. I felt proud, coming so far from that freshman who struggled with math. Later in the year, I coordinated with my guidance counselor to arrange a visit to New Mexico Tech, a local STEM school. Many STEM-focused peers enrolled after the presentation. Afterward, my guidance counselor arranged three more college visits. Many New Mexican students who couldn’t attend now have contacts and friends at those schools, giving them clearer pathways to college. Through these efforts, I created the STEM support system I once lacked in the school that was disadvantaged against people like me. As I look toward my old Lego structures, I see more than structures—I see support systems. To create educated STEM leaders, I introduced new pathways for young Hispanic students. In my future at New Mexico Tech, my goal is to expand STEM access in New Mexico, helping build educated, confident leaders who shape the future of their communities.