Even though I had dreams of building a better future, my family believed higher education was out of reach for us. Very few of my extended family went to college; some didn’t even finish high school. Generations of limited access to information and guidance convinced them that college wasn’t meant for families like ours. After hearing this so many times, I believed it was true. This changed how I approached school and my future. Throughout middle school, when my peers wrote that they would become doctors or lawyers, I said, “I don’t know.” I believed that education simply wasn’t meant for me. When I enrolled in Amy Biehl High School, I noticed that my peers and I were often neglected. For the first semester, I wasn’t enrolled in a math class. After contacting the school and getting enrolled, I fell behind. I nearly failed algebra because my school had forgotten about me. To pass the class, I set a goal to improve my grade before the end of the year. I attended office hours, studied three times a week, and kept a math notebook. By the end of the year, I’d gone from failing algebra to earning an eighty percent. My advisor congratulated me on overcoming this obstacle, calling me his most improved student. This experience made me realize there were other students who were excluded and didn’t receive the same help I did. I wanted to make sure no student would feel like education was out of reach, so I became a tour guide for incoming students. My goal was to ease them into the year-round system I struggled with. I toured our math and science departments, modeled a calculus lesson to demonstrate how we learn, and introduced them to local startups for internships. I encouraged them to envision themselves as future college students, starting with their high school journey. The students responded well to the welcoming environment I presented, and at least ten enrolled after the tour. I also noticed our rising seniors felt unsure of their college choices—some were considering choosing not to attend at all. New Mexico is often cited as having the lowest college enrollment rates in the country. I realized this is because students lack awareness of local available options, so I reached out to New Mexico Tech and asked to arrange a presentation at the school. This presentation informed my peers on admissions, financial aid, and what their next steps would look like. After the presentation, four seniors committed to New Mexico Tech. I felt honored to create the education support system that many students, myself included, didn’t have at home. As I graduate from high school and move on to New Mexico Tech, I realize that my purpose is to empower students in New Mexico. I want to show that any student, regardless of background, can succeed. Most of all, I hope I’ll be the person that my younger self would look up to. When I enter college, I'll work with high school students to encourage higher education. As a STEM student, I’ll personally work to tutor students who struggle in math, as I once did. I believe that to strengthen New Mexico’s community, we must promote equal access to education so that every student can succeed.

My name is Aaron Gabaldon. I am from Albuquerque, New Mexico, and intend to pursue an undergraduate in Mechanical Engineering at New Mexico Tech before becoming a patent attorney. I am seen as a representative of my school, Amy Biehl High School, and a leader in my community, but my journey has come a long way. In seventh grade, I nearly failed. I couldn’t bring myself to care about middle school and felt no motivation to do anything. But when I failed, my community was there to support me. My wonderful mother, struggling with a recent divorce, enrolled me in high school to give me a safe life. She took out loans and worked day and night to give me an education. Knowing that I had an opportunity few received, I began to work harder. Even when I worked harder, I fell behind the curve. I nearly failed my ninth grade math class and was recommended to stay back a year. But I felt inspired—if not for me, then for other students like me. Every student should have the chance to succeed, even if they aren’t a strong student. With this lesson in mind, I tried to become the person my past self would’ve needed. I tutored my peers, I attended office hours every week, and I worked harder on my assignments. After nearly failing, I’d gone from a 30% to an 81%. I noticed other students began looking up to me as a role model. I did my best to support other people, whether tutoring them, supporting them, or advocating for them. It was here I found my true passion, legal studies. When I realized this passion, I completed a 100-hour internship at a local law firm in intellectual property. I worked on a real case, and attempted to invent something. At school, people began to call me “the lawyer” and ask me real legal questions. Friends leaned on me for support, and teachers began giving me A’s. My GPA had gone from a 3.5 to a 3.83, which made me proud to graduate magna cum laude. I still remember when people told me I’d never make it—that I should give up on school. But whether it’s tutoring my peers, or studying law, I want to become an inspiration for other students in my position. At times, I wish I could go back to my past self and tell him that he’s not stupid, only misguided. As I move my tassel and leave Amy Biehl, I realize my passion is to lift up underserved students in New Mexico. In my future at New Mexico Tech, I hope to bring this passion to the STEM and legal fields. Unfortunately, I come from a low-income, single-parent household. New Mexico Tech comes with a $30,000 price tag that my family and I are unable to pay. Even with this barrier, I’m determined to get the best-quality education so I can continue being an inspiration to other, younger students. It is my belief that no student, regardless of circumstance, should feel like education is closed off to them.

Even though I had dreams of building a better future, my family believed higher education was out of reach for us. Very few of my extended family went to college; some didn’t even finish high school. Generations of limited access to information and guidance convinced them that college wasn’t meant for families like ours. After hearing this so many times, I believed it was true. This changed how I approached school and my future. Throughout middle school, when my peers wrote that they would become doctors or lawyers, I said, “I don’t know.” I believed that education simply wasn’t meant for me. When I enrolled in Amy Biehl High School, I noticed that my peers and I were often neglected. For the first semester, I wasn’t enrolled in a math class. After contacting the school and getting enrolled, I fell behind. I nearly failed algebra because my school had forgotten about me. To pass the class, I set a goal to improve my grade before the end of the year. I attended office hours, studied three times a week, and kept a math notebook. By the end of the year, I’d gone from failing algebra to earning an eighty percent. My advisor congratulated me on my success, calling me his most improved student. This experience made me realize there were other students who were excluded and didn’t receive the same help I did. I wanted to make sure no student would feel like education was out of reach, so I became a tour guide for incoming students. My goal was to ease them into the year-round system I struggled with. I toured our math and science departments, modeled a calculus lesson to demonstrate how we learn, and introduced them to local startups for internships. I encouraged them to envision themselves as future college students, starting with their high school journey. The students responded well to the welcoming environment I presented, and at least ten enrolled after the tour. I also noticed our rising seniors felt unsure of their college choices. New Mexico is often cited as having the lowest college enrollment rates in the country. I realized this is because students lack awareness of local available options, so I reached out to New Mexico Tech and asked to arrange a presentation at the school. This presentation informed my peers on admissions, financial aid, and what their next steps would look like. After the presentation, four seniors committed to New Mexico Tech. I felt honored to create the education support system that many students, myself included, didn’t have at home. As I graduate from high school and move on to New Mexico Tech, I realize that my purpose is to empower students in New Mexico. Our state currently ranks at the bottom in education, so through my efforts, I hope to encourage younger students to pursue their opportunities. I want to show that any student, regardless of background, can succeed. Most of all, I hope I’ll be the person that my younger self would look up to, despite the barriers standing in the way of my education. Promoting access to education is my service to the community. In the future, I will be working with the admissions office to strengthen connections between local high schools and New Mexico Tech. This experience will help me support underserved students who lack higher education awareness. As a STEM student, I’ll personally work to tutor students who struggle in math. I believe that to strengthen New Mexico’s community, we must promote equal access to education so that every student can succeed.

Even though I had dreams of building a better future, my family believed higher education was out of reach for us. Very few of my extended family went to college; some didn’t even finish high school. Generations of limited access to information and guidance convinced them that college wasn’t meant for us. After hearing this so many times, I believed it was true. I believed that education simply wasn’t meant for me. When I enrolled in Amy Biehl High School, I noticed that my peers and I were often neglected. For the first semester, I wasn’t enrolled in a math class. After contacting the school and getting enrolled, I fell behind. I nearly failed algebra because my school had forgotten about me. To pass the class, I set a goal to improve my grade before the end of the year. I attended office hours, studied three times a week, and kept a math notebook. By the end of the year, I’d gone from failing algebra to earning an eighty percent. My advisor congratulated me on my success, calling me his most improved student. This experience made me realize there were other students who were excluded and didn’t receive the same help I did. I wanted to make sure no student would feel like education was out of reach, so I became a tour guide for incoming students. My goal was to ease them into the year-round system I struggled with. I toured our math and science departments, modeled a calculus lesson to demonstrate how we learn, and introduced them to local startups for internships. I encouraged them to envision themselves as future college students, starting with their high school journey. The students responded well to the welcoming environment I presented, and at least ten enrolled after the tour. I also noticed our rising seniors felt unsure of their college choices—some were considering choosing not to attend at all. New Mexico is often cited as having the lowest college enrollment rates in the country. I realized this is because students lack awareness of local available options, so I reached out to New Mexico Tech and asked to arrange a presentation at the school. This presentation informed my peers on admissions, financial aid, and what their next steps would look like. After the presentation, four seniors committed to New Mexico Tech. I felt honored to create the education support system that many students, myself included, didn’t have at home. As I graduate from high school and move on to New Mexico Tech, I realize that my purpose is to empower students in New Mexico. Our state currently ranks at the bottom in education, so through my efforts, I hope to encourage students to pursue their opportunities. I plan to create a positive impact by encouraging disadvantaged students like myself to attain higher education. The first step, for me, is to promote equal access to education so that every student can succeed.

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.