Darío Cristian Anaya. It was almost Cándido Anaya, after my grandfather, but my parents thought people would call me "Candy-doe." I love my name, and I carry it with pride. I'm named after my Dad, who has endured more than anyone. As a teen seeking better opportunities, he left Veracruz, Mexico, and eventually met my mom. Despite only possessing an elementary education and farming background, my Dad has given me a wealth of knowledge on the value of money, work ethic, and family. Since a young age, he and I have always had clashing thoughts, but I see our similarities as I grow. My Dad is many things: an explorer, risk-taker, comedian, innovator, and open-minded. Thus, my name means much more than any single word or possession. Instead, it's a fulfilling collection of traits: bold, forward-thinking, dedicated, and curious. When my time comes, I too want to name my son Darío as my Dad did to me, hoping that he'll feel its power and keep its meaning alive.

As a first-generation, low-income student of color who has attended both public and private schools, I've experienced first-hand the education system's inequity—I never imagined I would create an app designed to combat a system failing to mentor students. Growing up as a kid in Gary, Indiana, the absence of steel mills left nothing behind but the hollow husk of a poverty-stricken environment. In kindergarten, I was energetic, loud, and silly, as most little kids are in elementary school. On the last day of school, my teacher handed me a bright orange envelope to give to my mom. I thought nothing of it but later found out that I would have to repeat kindergarten because I "wasn't mature enough" and "played too much.". At only five years old, I had already internalized the existential identity of feeling like a failure. I quickly became “the kid who was held back” and was bullied for a speech impediment for the rest of my primary education. As I transitioned into middle school, I became the class troublemaker, and my friends began exploring gangs, drugs, and other negative influences. However, this was normal for a school with a lack of mentorship and engagement for students. Before applying to a top private high school, a teacher told me I "wasn't smart enough." I applied anyway. Fortunately, I was granted an interview; while I had low grades, my teachers wrote impressive recommendation letters on my leadership, oratory skills, and aspirations to be a community leader. I received my acceptance letter later that summer. I felt this was a road to my new future of academic success. I had a clean slate and a new environment. While it was hard adjusting to the academic rigor my affluent peers had been preparing for their whole lives, I found my first mentor who helped me discover my potential. I realized I could succeed as a personable leader designing solutions to issues affecting youth like me. I was eventually nominated by my Dean of Admissions and invited to the Ambassadors Leadership Summit at Harvard Law School - a program for students passionate about community advancement. This created a sense of accomplishment that I worked so hard for. My mentors guided me through environments where I felt my abilities were discredited, aspirations dismissed, and efforts laughed at. After realizing my mentors' role in shaping this ‘new' me, I started thinking about the untapped potential in other low-income youth in my community. This was when I began developing my app, Pupil. Pupil is designed to match underserved high school students with undergraduates and professionals with shared interests in a school, major, or career pathway to guide them through high school into college. I want to help students like me realize the bigger picture: our upbringing, wealth, or race doesn't define who we are but can be guides to a better future. After numerous meetings and winning pitch competitions, NYU, Cornell University and Santa Clara University are verbally interested, after speaking with their Dean’s of Admissions, in partnering with Pupil. Despite the inequities in the education system and socioeconomics that limit students' opportunities, I feel energized. My community guided me—it's my turn to do the same. I've learned to carry my past with pride as a young Latinx with the urge to destabilize and apply research and technology in ways that benefit marginalized communities of color, immigrants, working-class families, youth, and LGBTQIA+ individuals. The future holds the answers to innovate the educational system, and I'm in the trenches working to build it.

As a first-generation, low-income student of color who has attended both public and private schools, I've experienced first-hand the education system's inequity—I never imagined I would create an app designed to combat a system failing to mentor students. Growing up as a kid in Gary, Indiana, the absence of steel mills left nothing behind but the hollow husk of a poverty-stricken environment. In kindergarten, I was energetic, loud, and silly, as most little kids are in elementary school. On the last day of school, my teacher handed me a bright orange envelope to give to my mom. I thought nothing of it but later found out that I would have to repeat kindergarten because I "wasn't mature enough" and "played too much.". At only five years old, I had already internalized the existential identity of feeling like a failure. I quickly became “the kid who was held back” and was bullied for a speech impediment for the rest of my primary education. As I transitioned into middle school, I became the class troublemaker, and my friends began exploring gangs, drugs, and other negative influences. However, this was normal for a school with a lack of mentorship and engagement for students. Before applying to a top private high school, a teacher told me I "wasn't smart enough." I applied anyway. Fortunately, I was granted an interview; while I had low grades, my teachers wrote impressive recommendation letters on my leadership, oratory skills, and aspirations to be a community leader. I received my acceptance letter later that summer. I felt this was a road to my new future of academic success. I had a clean slate and a new environment. While it was hard adjusting to the academic rigor my affluent peers had been preparing for their whole lives, I found my first mentor who helped me discover my potential. I realized I could succeed as a personable leader designing solutions to issues affecting youth like me. I was eventually nominated by my Dean of Admissions and invited to the Ambassadors Leadership Summit at Harvard Law School - a program for students passionate about community advancement. This created a sense of accomplishment that I worked so hard for. My mentors guided me through environments where I felt my abilities were discredited, aspirations dismissed, and efforts laughed at. After realizing my mentors' role in shaping this ‘new' me, I started thinking about the untapped potential in other low-income youth in my community. This was when I began developing my app, Pupil. Pupil is designed to match underserved high school students with undergraduates and professionals with shared interests in a school, major, or career pathway to guide them through high school into college. I want to help students like me realize the bigger picture: our upbringing, wealth, or race doesn't define who we are but can be guides to a better future. After numerous meetings and winning pitch competitions, NYU, Cornell University and Santa Clara University are verbally interested, after speaking with their Dean’s of Admissions, in partnering with Pupil. Despite the inequities in the education system and socioeconomics that limit students' opportunities, I feel energized. My community guided me—it's my turn to do the same. I've learned to carry my past with pride as a young Latinx with the urge to destabilize and apply research and technology in ways that benefit marginalized communities of color, immigrants, working-class families, youth, and LGBTQIA+ individuals. The future holds the answers to innovate the educational system, and I'm in the trenches working to build it.

As a first-generation, low-income student of color who has attended both public and private schools, I've experienced first-hand the education system's inequity—I never imagined I would create an app designed to combat a system failing to mentor students. Growing up as a kid in Gary, Indiana, the absence of steel mills left nothing behind but the hollow husk of a poverty-stricken environment. In kindergarten, I was energetic, loud, and silly, as most little kids are in elementary school. On the last day of school, my teacher handed me a bright orange envelope to give to my mom. I thought nothing of it but later found out that I would have to repeat kindergarten because I "wasn't mature enough" and "played too much.". At only five years old, I had already internalized the existential identity of feeling like a failure. I quickly became “the kid who was held back” and was bullied for a speech impediment for the rest of my primary education. As I transitioned into middle school, I became the class troublemaker, and my friends began exploring gangs, drugs, and other negative influences. However, this was normal for a school with a lack of mentorship and engagement for students. Before applying to a top private high school, a teacher told me I "wasn't smart enough." I applied anyway. Fortunately, I was granted an interview; while I had low grades, my teachers wrote impressive recommendation letters on my leadership, oratory skills, and aspirations to be a community leader. I received my acceptance letter later that summer. I felt this was a road to my new future of academic success. I had a clean slate and a new environment. While it was hard adjusting to the academic rigor my affluent peers had been preparing for their whole lives, I found my first mentor who helped me discover my potential. I realized I could succeed as a personable leader designing solutions to issues affecting youth like me. I was eventually nominated by my Dean of Admissions and invited to the Ambassadors Leadership Summit at Harvard Law School - a program for students passionate about community advancement. This created a sense of accomplishment that I worked so hard for. My mentors guided me through environments where I felt my abilities were discredited, aspirations dismissed, and efforts laughed at. After realizing my mentors' role in shaping this ‘new' me, I started thinking about the untapped potential in other low-income youth in my community. This was when I began developing my app, Pupil. Pupil is designed to match underserved high school students with undergraduates and professionals with shared interests in a school, major, or career pathway to guide them through high school into college. I want to help students like me realize the bigger picture: our upbringing, wealth, or race doesn't define who we are but can be guides to a better future. After numerous meetings and winning pitch competitions, NYU, Cornell University and Santa Clara University are verbally interested, after speaking with their Dean’s of Admissions, in partnering with Pupil. Despite the inequities in the education system and socioeconomics that limit students' opportunities, I feel energized. My community guided me—it's my turn to do the same. I've learned to carry my past with pride as a young Latinx with the urge to destabilize and apply research and technology in ways that benefit marginalized communities of color, immigrants, working-class families, youth, and LGBTQIA+ individuals. The future holds the answers to innovate the educational system, and I'm in the trenches working to build it.

As a first-generation, low-income student of color who has attended both public and private schools, I've experienced first-hand the education system's inequity—I never imagined I would create an app designed to combat a system failing to mentor students. Growing up as a kid in Gary, Indiana, the absence of steel mills left nothing behind but the hollow husk of a poverty-stricken environment. In kindergarten, I was energetic, loud, and silly, as most little kids are in elementary school. On the last day of school, my teacher handed me a bright orange envelope to give to my mom. I thought nothing of it but later found out that I would have to repeat kindergarten because I "wasn't mature enough" and "played too much.". At only five years old, I had already internalized the existential identity of feeling like a failure. I quickly became “the kid who was held back” and was bullied for a speech impediment for the rest of my primary education. As I transitioned into middle school, I became the class troublemaker, and my friends began exploring gangs, drugs, and other negative influences. However, this was normal for a school with a lack of mentorship and engagement for students. Before applying to a top private high school, a teacher told me I "wasn't smart enough." I applied anyway. Fortunately, I was granted an interview; while I had low grades, my teachers wrote impressive recommendation letters on my leadership, oratory skills, and aspirations to be a community leader. I received my acceptance letter later that summer. I felt this was a road to my new future of academic success. I had a clean slate and a new environment. While it was hard adjusting to the academic rigor my affluent peers had been preparing for their whole lives, I found my first mentor who helped me discover my potential. I realized I could succeed as a personable leader designing solutions to issues affecting youth like me. I was eventually nominated by my Dean of Admissions and invited to the Ambassadors Leadership Summit at Harvard Law School - a program for students passionate about community advancement. This created a sense of accomplishment that I worked so hard for. My mentors guided me through environments where I felt my abilities were discredited, aspirations dismissed, and efforts laughed at. After realizing my mentors' role in shaping this ‘new' me, I started thinking about the untapped potential in other low-income youth in my community. This was when I began developing my app, Pupil. Pupil is designed to match underserved high school students with undergraduates and professionals with shared interests in a school, major, or career pathway to guide them through high school into college. I want to help students like me realize the bigger picture: our upbringing, wealth, or race doesn't define who we are but can be guides to a better future. After numerous meetings and winning pitch competitions, NYU, Cornell University and Santa Clara University are verbally interested, after speaking with their Dean’s of Admissions, in partnering with Pupil. Despite the inequities in the education system and socioeconomics that limit students' opportunities, I feel energized. My community guided me—it's my turn to do the same. I've learned to carry my past with pride as a young Latinx with the urge to destabilize and apply research and technology in ways that benefit marginalized communities of color, immigrants, working-class families, youth, and LGBTQIA+ individuals. The future holds the answers to innovate the educational system, and I'm in the trenches working to build it.

Darío Cristian Anaya. It was almost Cándido Anaya, after my grandfather, but my parents thought people would call me "Candy-doe." I'm named after my Dad, who has endured more than anyone. As a teen seeking better opportunities, he left Veracruz, Mexico, and eventually met my mom. Despite only possessing an elementary education and farming background, my Dad has given me a wealth of knowledge on the value of work ethic and family. My Dad is many things: an explorer, risk-taker, comedian, innovator, and open-minded. Thus, my name means much more than any single word or possession. Instead, it's a fulfilling collection of traits: bold, forward-thinking, dedicated, and curious.

As a first-generation, low-income student of color who has attended both public and private schools, I've experienced first-hand the education system's inequity—I never imagined I would create an app designed to combat a system failing to mentor students. Growing up as a kid in Gary, Indiana, the absence of steel mills left nothing behind but the hollow husk of a poverty-stricken environment. In kindergarten, I was energetic, loud, and silly, as most little kids are in elementary school. On the last day of school, my teacher handed me a bright orange envelope to give to my mom. I thought nothing of it but later found out that I would have to repeat kindergarten because I "wasn't mature enough" and "played too much.". At only five years old, I had already internalized the existential identity of feeling like a failure. I quickly became “the kid who was held back” and was bullied for a speech impediment for the rest of my primary education. As I transitioned into middle school, I became the class troublemaker, and my friends began exploring gangs, drugs, and other negative influences. However, this was normal for a school with a lack of mentorship and engagement for students. Before applying to a top private high school, a teacher told me I "wasn't smart enough." I applied anyway. Fortunately, I was granted an interview; while I had low grades, my teachers wrote impressive recommendation letters on my leadership, oratory skills, and aspirations to be a community leader. I received my acceptance letter later that summer. I felt this was a road to my new future of academic success. I had a clean slate and a new environment. While it was hard adjusting to the academic rigor my affluent peers had been preparing for their whole lives, I found my first mentor who helped me discover my potential. I realized I could succeed as a personable leader designing solutions to issues affecting youth like me. I was eventually nominated by my Dean of Admissions and invited to the Ambassadors Leadership Summit at Harvard Law School - a program for students passionate about community advancement. This created a sense of accomplishment that I worked so hard for. My mentors guided me through environments where I felt my abilities were discredited, aspirations dismissed, and efforts laughed at. After realizing my mentors' role in shaping this ‘new' me, I started thinking about the untapped potential in other low-income youth in my community. This was when I began developing my app, Pupil. Pupil is designed to match underserved high school students with undergraduates and professionals with shared interests in a school, major, or career pathway to guide them through high school into college. I want to help students like me realize the bigger picture: our upbringing, wealth, or race doesn't define who we are but can be guides to a better future. After numerous meetings and winning pitch competitions, NYU, Cornell University and Santa Clara University are verbally interested, after speaking with their Dean’s of Admissions, in partnering with Pupil. Despite the inequities in the education system and socioeconomics that limit students' opportunities, I feel energized. My community guided me—it's my turn to do the same. I've learned to carry my past with pride as a young Latinx with the urge to destabilize and apply research and technology in ways that benefit marginalized communities of color, immigrants, working-class families, youth, and LGBTQIA+ individuals. The future holds the answers to innovate the educational system, and I'm in the trenches working to build it.

I believe that my most important talent is my ability to bring humility, diligence, authenticity, and a principled approach to any situation: - No matter one's role, title, or position in society, I always aim to treat them equally. Whether they're the Dean of a school or a groundskeeper, I know that they can both teach me in unique ways and that they themselves are learning constantly. - I believe in and have experienced the value of hard work; when my passions align with work, I'm the first person to begin working and the last to stop. - I always seek to create and foster unique connections and opportunities to relate deeply with others, whether it be by starting off with a joke or uncovering common interests. - In all situations, I bring views of morals, ethics, and logic to assemble valid decisions. When I speak and work, I try to be effective and efficient in conveying a straightforward message of inclusion.

The underdogs -- for the kids who think they are failures in a society that stigmatizes them for not having certain scores or meeting social standards. Why let others fail when you can prevent it? Better yet, why allow systems constructed by barriers of economic inequity to continue? My passion is leading my EdTech startup and collaborating with leaders in the educational space to support these students, who are often left behind by lower test scores, lack of funding, or lack of mentorship. The best investment you can make is in the underdog — to invest your time and energy in underrepresented youth. They make the best leaders, innovators, and scholars because they know what it takes to change and make an impact, not for the media but their communities. These students are more than what our society defines them as. They are future servicemen and women, community leaders, and changemakers. But we need to help them see that before they see themselves as failures in a system designed for a select few. They are not losers. They are fighting champions. I fight for the underdog because I am the underdog, and I beat the odds. My hope is that I can have a hand in helping kids that would have never even gotten a chance to reach their full potential. It takes one to lead and others to follow.

The most effective leaders throughout history have led from a perspective of lived experiences: failures, pain, or trauma. Think back to a time someone helped you see your full potential. You felt this explosive sensation of excitement, energy, and readiness to conquer any challenge. What drives me to serve is helping underrepresented youth uncover their full potential. Why let others fail when you can prevent it? Better yet, why allow systems constructed by barriers to continue? My passion is leading educational reform efforts through innovative startups and collaborating with leaders in the educational space, to support these students, who are often left behind by lower test scores, lack of funding, or lack of mentorship. I have experienced the education system's inequalities first-hand. I have been underestimated, and I have failed a lot. But those failures, hard lessons, and doubters kept me moving. It is my calling to serve my community, country, and the world as a global citizen. Not for personal gain, nor praise, but for the vision I share with others. That is, imagine hundreds of thousands, or millions of youth around the world accomplishing more than what structures of discrimination define for them. It is our duty to build, not eradicate our youth's futures. The most important role of a leader is to be proactive and collaborative: to challenge societal views of how the world is, could be, and should be, by constantly seeking new and better ways to improve our lives. That is my action. Many of us are accustomed to routines — at home, school, or at work — and may overlook conditions that warrant change. However, I believe the charge of each individual is to disrupt systems rooted in injustice. To that end, critically evaluating social norms, exploring the unknown, and pursuing innovative ways to help our global communities thrive is pivotal. It takes a village to inspire a leader, and a leader to then inspire a village. My community guided me through my own trials and tribulations, and into great triumphs — my hope is to build a smoother path for the next generation lasting until the next leader constructs one greater. John Stuart Mill once said, "A person may cause evil to others not only by his actions but by his inaction, and in either case, he is justly accountable to them for the injury." A citizen who dreams of change, without action towards change, is merely an individual seeking refuge under a proactive leader. My role is to be an advocate for the unheard voices that fuel our nation. I learned that a proactive leader is critical for fostering reformative actions, such as rebuilding communities that have been economically deprived by corporations who have failed them and re-engineering an education system wherein all students can excel. As individual citizens, we have to be change agents for the improvement of our society. And, as a collective of citizens, it is imperative that we collaborate in order to effectuate the change we seek globally. My urge for service is beyond the borders of our nations and is fueled by my lived experiences. It pushes me to uncover the gaps between politics, technology, and entrepreneurship and rebuild systems designed around students of color, not biased theory. There is strength in vulnerability, and when we let down our individual agendas or barriers and embrace each other's ideas for change, we then can effectively take theory into practice, and service into impact.

As a first-generation, low-income student of color who has attended both public and private schools, I've experienced first-hand the education system's inequity—I never imagined I would create an app designed to combat a system failing to mentor students. Growing up as a kid in Gary, Indiana, the absence of steel mills left nothing behind but the hollow husk of a poverty-stricken environment. In kindergarten, I was energetic, loud, and silly, as most little kids are in elementary school. On the last day of school, my teacher handed me a bright orange envelope to give to my mom. I thought nothing of it but later found out that I would have to repeat kindergarten because I "wasn't mature enough" and "played too much.". At only five years old, I had already internalized the existential identity of feeling like a failure. I quickly became “the kid who was held back” and was bullied for a speech impediment for the rest of my primary education. As I transitioned into middle school, I became the class troublemaker, and my friends began exploring gangs, drugs, and other negative influences. However, this was normal for a school with a lack of mentorship and engagement for students. Before applying to a top private high school, a teacher told me I "wasn't smart enough." I applied anyway. Fortunately, I was granted an interview; while I had low grades, my teachers wrote impressive recommendation letters on my leadership, oratory skills, and aspirations to be a community leader. I received my acceptance letter later that summer. I felt this was a road to my new future of academic success. I had a clean slate and a new environment. While it was hard adjusting to the academic rigor my affluent peers had been preparing for their whole lives, I found my first mentor who helped me discover my potential. I realized I could succeed as a personable leader designing solutions to issues affecting youth like me. I was eventually nominated by my Dean of Admissions and invited to the Ambassadors Leadership Summit at Harvard Law School - a program for students passionate about community advancement. This created a sense of accomplishment that I worked so hard for. My mentors guided me through environments where I felt my abilities were discredited, aspirations dismissed, and efforts laughed at. After realizing my mentors' role in shaping this ‘new' me, I started thinking about the untapped potential in other low-income youth in my community. This was when I began developing my app, Pupil. Pupil is designed to match underserved high school students with undergraduates and professionals with shared interests in a school, major, or career pathway to guide them through high school into college. I want to help students like me realize the bigger picture: our upbringing, wealth, or race doesn't define who we are but can be guides to a better future. After numerous meetings and winning pitch competitions, NYU, Cornell University and Santa Clara University are verbally interested, after speaking with their Dean’s of Admissions, in partnering with Pupil. Despite the inequities in the education system and socioeconomics that limit students' opportunities, I feel energized. My community guided me—it's my turn to do the same. I've learned to carry my past with pride as a young Latinx with the urge to destabilize and apply research and technology in ways that benefit marginalized communities of color, immigrants, working-class families, youth, and LGBTQIA+ individuals. The future holds the answers to innovate the educational system, and I'm in the trenches working to build it.

As a first-generation, low-income student of color who has attended both public and private schools, I've experienced first-hand the education system's inequity—I never imagined I would create an app designed to combat a system failing to mentor students. Growing up as a kid in Gary, Indiana, the absence of steel mills left nothing behind but the hollow husk of a poverty-stricken environment. In kindergarten, I was energetic, loud, and silly, as most little kids are in elementary school. On the last day of school, my teacher handed me a bright orange envelope to give to my mom. I thought nothing of it but later found out that I would have to repeat kindergarten because I "wasn't mature enough" and "played too much.". At only five years old, I had already internalized the existential identity of feeling like a failure. I quickly became “the kid who was held back” and was bullied for a speech impediment for the rest of my primary education. As I transitioned into middle school, I became the class troublemaker, and my friends began exploring gangs, drugs, and other negative influences. However, this was normal for a school with a lack of mentorship and engagement for students. Before applying to a top private high school, a teacher told me I "wasn't smart enough." I applied anyway. Fortunately, I was granted an interview; while I had low grades, my teachers wrote impressive recommendation letters on my leadership, oratory skills, and aspirations to be a community leader. I received my acceptance letter later that summer. I felt this was a road to my new future of academic success. I had a clean slate and a new environment. While it was hard adjusting to the academic rigor my affluent peers had been preparing for their whole lives, I found my first mentor who helped me discover my potential. I realized I could succeed as a personable leader designing solutions to issues affecting youth like me. I was eventually nominated by my Dean of Admissions and invited to the Ambassadors Leadership Summit at Harvard Law School - a program for students passionate about community advancement. This created a sense of accomplishment that I worked so hard for. My mentors guided me through environments where I felt my abilities were discredited, aspirations dismissed, and efforts laughed at. After realizing my mentors' role in shaping this ‘new' me, I started thinking about the untapped potential in other low-income youth in my community. This was when I began developing my app, Pupil. Pupil is designed to match underserved high school students with undergraduates and professionals with shared interests in a school, major, or career pathway to guide them through high school into college. I want to help students like me realize the bigger picture: our upbringing, wealth, or race doesn't define who we are but can be guides to a better future. After numerous meetings and winning pitch competitions, NYU, Cornell University and Santa Clara University are verbally interested, after speaking with their Dean’s of Admissions, in partnering with Pupil. Despite the inequities in the education system and socioeconomics that limit students' opportunities, I feel energized. My community guided me—it's my turn to do the same. I've learned to carry my past with pride as a young Latinx with the urge to destabilize and apply research and technology in ways that benefit marginalized communities of color, immigrants, working-class families, youth, and LGBTQIA+ individuals. The future holds the answers to innovate the educational system, and I'm in the trenches working to build it.