"They always ask when you're coming back," Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech High Elementary School. During my sophomore year in high school, I volunteered weekly with fourth graders who referred to me as their "mini teacher." I supported the students academically, played games with them, and let them use my hands to practice new techniques for the nail art business they ran. I entered volunteering thinking I would be an academic help, but I was wrong. Sometimes, I just listened to the problems students felt were "unimportant" to the school's adults. Volunteering sparked the question: Why don't we have more teachers of color in the High Tech High system? I completed a research internship at the High Tech High (HTH) Graduate School of Education (GSE) to pursue this question. Every junior at HTH has a four-week academic internship. Throughout my time at the GSE, I contributed to graduate-level discussions of what Ethnic Studies looks like in K-12 school curriculums and analyzed declining retention rates among educators of color. These discussions led me to research and further refine my essential question: What support do our future educators of color need to succeed? Before my internship, I had never conducted academic-level research. However, with my mentors, Dr. Sarah Fine and Dr. Carol Battle, I developed my research skills and learned to turn transcripts and observations into preliminary analyses. My data showed that many students of color who consider becoming educators do not pursue this path due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Using my data, I created a recommended course of action for the HTH organization to help students of color gain exposure to careers in education. One of the recommendations is a peer tutoring program I am helping to roll out in HTH elementary schools. Throughout my educational career, I knew I would someday pursue higher education. This was realized on March 28, 2024, when I was accepted to Harvard University. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. I will become an education lawyer, advocating for access to quality education for students of color. By joining the 2% Latina lawyers in the U.S., I will advocate on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. My father suffered a stroke in 2021, which left him with cardiac health issues. He recently underwent a heart transplant and will need to take a significant leave from work to recover from this major surgery. My mom was also diagnosed with stage III breast cancer in September 2022 and underwent treatment from October 2022 to November 2023. In addition, both my brother and I are Type 1 diabetics and require insulin, diabetic pumps, glucose monitors, and other diabetes-related supplies. Thank you for your consideration and for reading my story.

Her name is Analiese Christenson. She is an artist (who got into the best art school in the country! RISD), a gardener, a bright light, the kindest person I've met, an activist, and my best friend. I met Ana on the last day of our freshman year of high school during Covid. Our school had decided to bring a limited number of students back for the spring semester of our freshman year. All students were separated into pods, and we never met the other pods until the last day of school when we took a trip down the street to a popular hangout, the Bay. I had met some people that year, but no one I really clicked with. Until I met Ana. I wandered around the water and decided to leave my comfort zone and ask her and her friends if I could sit. She said yes, patted the part of her blanket next to her, and the rest is history. We remained close even after being put once again in different classes our sophomore year by volunteering at my little brother's elementary school together. Twice a week, we would spend the last hour of our day as peer mentors to elementary schoolers. This was when I got to know Ana outside of an academic setting, and we got to work together planning activities. We learned that we come from families of educators, my parents teaching ethnic studies, and her parents' teachers in their church. We both had older parents and understood that getting out the door always took a little longer in our homes. We understood what it was like being the new kid. I'd moved almost every year since sixth grade, once to Massachusetts, where she was born! She had moved every couple of years since childhood, going from Glendale, Redlands, Springfield, MA, and San Diego. She is not only my best friend because we have things in common but also because she was always my happy place during hard times. She was the one who would create a space where I could vent about the aftermath of my dad's stroke freshman year. She was one of the first people I turned to when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer our junior year. She came to cheer on my mom and check in on my family because that's the kind of person Ana is. When I was diagnosed with type one diabetes our senior year, she was one of the first people I called. She stayed on the line as I struggled to tell her what happened when I was rushed to the hospital. She stayed by my side as I navigated how to calculate how much insulin I needed to give myself for lunch. Ana was not only there for the hard times but the first person I think of in the happiest moments. When I got into Stanford last December, she was the first person I called. When I got into my dream school, Harvard, in March of this year, she was the first person I sent a screenshot to in all the excitement. Ana is part of my family. We have had three seasons of the Ana and Lucia Show. Now, as we move to Boston together, me going to Harvard and her going to Tufts University, we say that this will be our spin-off show: The College Years!

I am Lucia Chavarin Lopez and am a Chicana from San Diego, CA. I am the daughter of two first-generation Chicanos. I am an older sister to my brother, Camilo, who is the 'why' behind all that I do and have accomplished.  I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn't find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.  I became Camilo's shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience.  During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher and became our family's advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo's school.  I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn't focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as "unimportant."  Throughout my educational career, I knew I would someday pursue higher education. This was realized on March 28, 2024, when I was accepted to Harvard University. Because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers, I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. I will become an education lawyer, advocating for access to quality education for students of color. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. My father received a heart transplant and will need to take a three to six-month leave from work to recover from this major surgery. Most of my father's medical leave will be unpaid. My mother was also diagnosed with stage III breast cancer in September 2022 and underwent treatment from October 2022 to November 2023. There are unpaid medical treatments that our family has incurred as part of my mother's cancer recovery. Thank you for your consideration and for reading my story.

"They always ask when you're coming back," Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech High Elementary School. During my sophomore year, I volunteered weekly with fourth graders who referred to me as their "mini teacher." I supported the students academically, played games with them, and let them use my hands to practice new techniques for the nail art business they ran. I entered volunteering thinking I would be an academic help, but I was wrong. Sometimes, I just listened to the problems students felt were "unimportant" to the school's adults. I also understood their cultural backgrounds, which their primarily white teachers could not. Volunteering sparked the question: Why don't we have more teachers of color in the High Tech High system? I completed a research internship at the High Tech High (HTH) Graduate School of Education (GSE) to pursue this question. Every junior at HTH has a four-week academic internship during the spring semester. Throughout my time at the GSE, I contributed to graduate-level discussions of what Ethnic Studies looks like in K-12 school curriculums and analyzed declining retention rates among educators of color. These discussions led me to research and further refine my essential question: What support do our future educators of color need to succeed? Before my internship, I had never conducted academic-level research. However, with my mentors, Dr. Sarah Fine and Dr. Carol Battle, I developed my research skills and learned to turn transcripts and observations into preliminary analyses. My data showed that many students of color who consider becoming educators do not pursue this path due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Using my data, I created a recommended course of action for the HTH organization to help students of color gain exposure to careers in education. One of the recommendations is a peer tutoring program I am helping to roll out in HTH elementary schools. Throughout my educational career, I knew I would someday pursue higher education. This was realized on March 28, 2024, when I was accepted to Harvard University. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. I will become an education lawyer, advocating for access to quality education for students of color. By joining the 2% Latina lawyers in the U.S., I will advocate on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. My father suffered a stroke in 2021, which left him with cardiac health issues. He recently underwent medical testing and was determined to meet the criteria to be placed on the UC San Diego heart transplant list. Just this past week, he received his heart transplant and will need to take a three to six-month leave from work to recover from this major surgery. This will have a significant impact on my family's finances as most of my father's medical leave will be unpaid. My mother was also diagnosed with stage III breast cancer in September 2022 and underwent treatment from October 2022 to November 2023. As such, there are unpaid medical treatments that our family has incurred as part of my mother's cancer recovery. In addition, both my brother and I are Type 1 diabetics and require insulin, diabetic pumps, glucose monitors, and other diabetes-related supplies. Thank you for your consideration and for reading my story.

"They always ask when you're coming back," Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech High Elementary School. During my sophomore year, I volunteered weekly with fourth graders who referred to me as their "mini teacher."   I supported the students academically, played games with them, and let them use my hands to practice new techniques for the nail art business they ran. I entered volunteering thinking I would be an academic help, but I was wrong. Sometimes, I just listened to the problems students felt were "unimportant" to the school's adults. I also understood their cultural backgrounds, which their primarily white teachers could not. Volunteering sparked the question: Why don't we have more teachers of color in the High Tech High system? I completed a research internship at the High Tech High (HTH) Graduate School of Education (GSE) to pursue this question. Every junior at HTH has a four-week academic internship during the spring semester. Throughout my time at the GSE, I contributed to graduate-level discussions of what Ethnic Studies looks like in K-12 school curriculums and analyzed declining retention rates among educators of color. These discussions led me to research and further refine my essential question: What support do our future educators of color need to succeed? Before my internship, I had never conducted academic-level research. However, with my mentors, Dr. Sarah Fine and Dr. Carol Battle, I developed my research skills and learned to turn transcripts and observations into preliminary analyses. My data showed that many students of color who consider becoming educators do not pursue this path due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Using my data, I created a recommended course of action for the HTH organization to help students of color gain exposure to careers in education. One of the recommendations is a peer tutoring program I am helping to roll out in HTH elementary schools.  Throughout my educational career, I knew I would someday pursue higher education. This was realized on March 28, 2024, when I was accepted to Harvard University. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. I will become an education lawyer, advocating for access to quality education for students of color. By joining the 2% Latina lawyers in the U.S., I will advocate on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families.  Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. My father suffered a stroke in 2021, which left him with cardiac health issues. He recently underwent medical testing and was determined to meet the criteria to be placed on the UC San Diego heart transplant list. Just this past week, he received his heart transplant and will need to take a three to six-month leave from work to recover from this major surgery. This will have a significant impact on my family's finances as most of my father's medical leave will be unpaid.   My mother was also diagnosed with stage III breast cancer in September 2022 and underwent treatment from October 2022 to November 2023. As such, there are unpaid medical treatments that our family has incurred as part of my mother's cancer recovery. In addition, both my brother and I are Type 1 diabetics and require insulin, diabetic pumps, glucose monitors, and other diabetes-related supplies. Thank you for your consideration and for reading my story.

“They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech Elementary. I volunteered with fourth graders who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I provided academic and emotional support by listening to the problems that students felt were “unimportant" to the school's faculty - many of whom did not share the students’ Latino backgrounds. Volunteering sparked the question: Why does High Tech High (HTH) not have a diverse faculty that reflects the student body? To investigate this question, I completed a research internship at the HTH Graduate School of Education (GSE). With the mentorship of Dr. Sarah Fine, I analyzed declining retention rates among Brown and Black educators by conducting preliminary analyses to find root causes. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality supports for future generations of educators of color. My research demonstrated that many students of color do not pursue teaching due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Through my recommended course of action for the HTH system, we have begun a peer tutoring program to recruit high schoolers into teaching careers. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. This was realized on March 28, 2024, when I was accepted to Harvard University. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner.

“They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech High Elementary School. During my sophomore year, I volunteered weekly with fourth graders who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I supported the students academically, played games with them, and let them use my hands to practice new techniques for the nail art business they ran. I entered volunteering thinking I would be an academic help, but I was wrong. Sometimes, I just listened to the problems students felt were “unimportant " to the school's adults. I also understood their cultural backgrounds, which their primarily white teachers could not. Volunteering sparked the question: Why don’t we have more teachers of color in the High Tech High system? I completed a research internship at the High Tech High (HTH) Graduate School of Education (GSE) to pursue this question. Every junior at HTH has a four-week academic internship during the spring semester. Throughout my time at the GSE, I contributed to graduate-level discussions of what Ethnic Studies looks like in K-12 school curriculums and analyzed declining retention rates among educators of color. These discussions led me to research and further refine my essential question: What support do our future educators of color need to succeed? Before my internship, I had never conducted academic-level research. However, with my mentors, Dr. Sarah Fine and Dr. Carol Battle, I developed my research skills and learned to turn transcripts and observations into preliminary analyses. My data showed that many students of color who consider becoming educators do not pursue this path due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Using my data, I created a recommended course of action for the HTH organization to help students of color gain exposure to careers in education. One of the recommendations is a peer tutoring program I am helping to roll out in HTH elementary schools. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality academic experiences for future generations of educators of color. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. I will become an education lawyer, advocating for access to quality education for students of color. By joining the 2% Latina lawyers in the U.S., I will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo and my students, Delena and Malaya, to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. My mom’s cancer diagnosis and my dad’s stroke have left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

“They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech High Elementary School. During my sophomore year, I volunteered weekly with fourth graders who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I supported the students academically, played games with them, and let them use my hands to practice new techniques for the nail art business they ran. I entered volunteering thinking I would be an academic help, but I was wrong. Sometimes, I just listened to the problems students felt were “unimportant " to the school's adults. I also understood their cultural backgrounds, which their primarily white teachers could not. Volunteering sparked the question: Why don’t we have more teachers of color in the High Tech High system? I completed a research internship at the High Tech High (HTH) Graduate School of Education (GSE) to pursue this question. Every junior at HTH has a four-week academic internship during the spring semester. Throughout my time at the GSE, I contributed to graduate-level discussions of what Ethnic Studies looks like in K-12 school curriculums and analyzed declining retention rates among educators of color. These discussions led me to research and further refine my essential question: What support do our future educators of color need to succeed? Before my internship, I had never conducted academic-level research. However, with my mentors, Dr. Sarah Fine and Dr. Carol Battle, I developed my research skills and learned to turn transcripts and observations into preliminary analyses. My data showed that many students of color who consider becoming educators do not pursue this path due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Using my data, I created a recommended course of action for the HTH organization to help students of color gain exposure to careers in education. One of the recommendations is a peer tutoring program I am helping to roll out in HTH elementary schools. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality academic experiences for future generations of educators of color. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. I will become an education lawyer, advocating for access to quality education for students of color. By joining the 2% Latina lawyers in the U.S., I will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo and my students, Delena and Malaya, to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. My mom’s cancer diagnosis and my dad’s stroke have left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

“Your mom mentioned that you helped test your Dexcom sensor.” My lead nurse, Ms. Carlotta, said during one of my post-diagnosis check-ups. “Oh yeah, I did. That seems like so long ago.” On October 31, 2023, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I spent my Halloween in a brightly lit ER room as nurses took blood samples and ran tests. I lay there processing how my whole life was changing. In the spring of 2021, I was part of a school research team for Dexcom. My job was to perform tests with the not-yet-released glucose sensor, G7, and report the machine's reactions over 72 hours to various day-to-day items like sunscreen, cooking oil, and lotion. Before we began the experiments, a Dexcom representative talked to our class about how our experiments would impact those who rely on the G7 to control their diabetes. I never thought that I’d be one of those who rely on the G7 for my health. The first week post-diagnosis was one of the scariest times of my life. What got me through this time was my community of friends and family. I am fortunate enough to have friends and family who also have T1D and have helped me adjust to my new routines. People like my friend Chesney, whom I met in kindergarten and who also has T1D, encouraged me to see my diagnosis differently. “I can just see the life I was going to have, and now it’s just…gone.” “Lucia, it never went away. It’s just going to include diabetes now.” Almost two months since my diagnosis, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve been motivated to embrace healthier habits as an investment in my health’s future. I’ve realized that I need to give grace to myself when I make mistakes and not let T1D keep me from pursuing opportunities. I felt this most when returning to school after being hospitalized. With the support of my loved ones and teachers, I have learned how to navigate everyday events like exercise, going out with friends, and calculating insulin amounts in restaurants. My diagnosis has also increased my advocacy and creative voices by training my friends for T1D emergencies and running an Instagram account focused on accessible fashion for diabetics. In college, I plan to use my knowledge of T1D to continue educating myself and others about this disease. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. I will become an education lawyer, advocating for access to quality education for students of color. By joining the 2% Latina lawyers in the U.S., I will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. My mom’s cancer diagnosis and my dad’s stroke have left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

“Your mom mentioned that you helped test your Dexcom sensor.” My lead nurse, Ms. Carlotta, said during one of my post-diagnosis check-ups. “Oh yeah, I did. That seems like so long ago.” On October 31, 2023, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I spent my Halloween in a brightly lit ER room as nurses took blood samples and ran tests. I lay there processing how my whole life was changing. In the spring of 2021, I was part of a school research team for Dexcom. My job was to perform tests with the not-yet-released glucose sensor, G7, and report the machine's reactions over 72 hours to various day-to-day items like sunscreen, cooking oil, and lotion. Before we began the experiments, a Dexcom representative talked to our class about how our experiments would impact those who rely on the G7 to control their diabetes. I never thought that I’d be one of those who rely on the G7 for my health. The first week post-diagnosis was one of the scariest times of my life. What got me through this time was my community of friends and family. I am fortunate enough to have friends and family who also have T1D and have helped me adjust to my new routines. People like my friend Chesney, whom I met in kindergarten and who also has T1D, encouraged me to see my diagnosis differently. “I can just see the life I was going to have, and now it’s just…gone.” “Lucia, it never went away. It’s just going to include diabetes now.” Almost two months since my diagnosis, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve been motivated to embrace healthier habits as an investment in my health’s future. I’ve realized that I need to give grace to myself when I make mistakes and not let T1D keep me from pursuing opportunities. I felt this most when returning to school after being hospitalized. With the support of my loved ones and teachers, I have learned how to navigate everyday events like exercise, going out with friends, and calculating insulin amounts in restaurants. My diagnosis has also increased my advocacy and creative voices by training my friends for T1D emergencies and running an Instagram account focused on accessible fashion for diabetics. In college, I plan to use my knowledge of T1D to continue educating myself and others about this disease. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. I will become an education lawyer, advocating for access to quality education for students of color. By joining the 2% Latina lawyers in the U.S., I will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo and my students, Delena and Malaya, to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. My mom’s cancer diagnosis and my dad’s stroke have left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Chapter 1: Launch “Your mom mentioned that you helped test your Dexcom sensor.” My lead nurse, Ms. Carlotta, said during one of my post-diagnosis check-ups. “Oh yeah, I did. That seems like so long ago.” On October 31, 2023, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I spent my Halloween in a brightly lit ER room as nurses took blood samples and ran tests. I lay there processing how my whole life was changing. In the spring of 2021, I was part of a school research team for Dexcom. My job was to perform tests with the not-yet-released glucose sensor, G7, and report the machine's reactions over 72 hours to various day-to-day items like sunscreen, cooking oil, and lotion. Before we began the experiments, a Dexcom representative talked to our class about how our experiments would impact those who rely on the G7 to control their diabetes. I never thought that I’d be relying on the G7 for my health. The first week post-diagnosis was one of the scariest times of my life. What got me through this time was my community of friends and family. I am fortunate enough to have friends and family who also have T1D and have helped me adjust to my new routines. People like my friend Chesney, whom I met in kindergarten and who also has T1D, encouraged me to see my diagnosis differently. “I can just see the life I was going to have, and now it’s just…gone.” “Lucia, it never went away. It’s just going to include diabetes now.” Almost two months since my diagnosis, I’ve been motivated to embrace healthier habits as an investment in my health’s future. I’ve realized that I need to give grace to myself when I make mistakes and not let T1D keep me from pursuing opportunities. I felt this most when returning to school after being hospitalized. With the support of my loved ones and teachers, I have learned how to navigate everyday events like exercise, going out with friends, and calculating insulin amounts in restaurants. My diagnosis has also increased my advocacy and creative voices by training my friends for T1D emergencies and running an Instagram account focused on accessible fashion for diabetics. Now, as I prepare to join the 2028 class at Stanford University, I plan to use my knowledge of T1D to continue educating myself and others about this disease.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I wanted to scream and tell them their ignorance prevented them from connecting with amazing people like Camilo. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. I’ve found that people often judge others who don’t fit into their definition of “normal.” At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. As HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to celebrate all students. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. On December 15, I was accepted into Stanford University. One day, I will be an education lawyer and will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena and Malaya, ensuring that our school systems do not fail them and their families.

“They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech High Elementary School. During my sophomore year, I volunteered weekly with fourth graders who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I supported the students academically, played games with them, and let them use my hands to practice new techniques for the nail art business they ran. I entered volunteering thinking I would be an academic help, but I was wrong. Sometimes, I just listened to the problems students felt were “unimportant " to the school's adults. I also understood their cultural backgrounds, which their primarily white teachers could not. Volunteering sparked the question: Why don’t we have more teachers of color in the High Tech High system? I completed a research internship at the High Tech High (HTH) Graduate School of Education (GSE) to pursue this question. Every junior at HTH has a four-week academic internship during the spring semester. Throughout my time at the GSE, I contributed to graduate-level discussions of what Ethnic Studies looks like in K-12 school curriculums and analyzed declining retention rates among educators of color. These discussions led me to research and further refine my essential question: What support do our future educators of color need to succeed? Before my internship, I had never conducted academic-level research. However, with my mentors, Dr. Sarah Fine and Dr. Carol Battle, I developed my research skills and learned to turn transcripts and observations into preliminary analyses. My data showed that many students of color who consider becoming educators do not pursue this path due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Using my data, I created a recommended course of action for the HTH organization to help students of color gain exposure to careers in education. One of the recommendations is a peer tutoring program I am helping to roll out in HTH elementary schools. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality academic experiences for future generations of educators of color. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

My family is from a small town named Tecolotlán in the Mexican state of Jalisco. Mariachi is a well-known music genre that originated in Jalisco, and I embrace that ancestral tradition by being a fourth-generation mariachi player. I grew up with music all around me. Family birthdays mean singing five songs with guitar and chorus - long enough to have candles half-melted when you blow them out. Though I grew up listening to mariachi and playing the violin since I was seven, I had never played mariachi until the fall of 2022 when my aunt invited me to join her and my grandfather as part of a community mariachi. Mariachi Villamúsica is the intergenerational community mariachi that meets at the Logan Heights Library every Saturday. I have earned each painful callus on my fingers through hours of practicing classical violin music. I began earning even more painful calluses as I learned to play mariachi songs. The first time I played with Mariachi Villamúsica, my cheeks turned red when I hit the wrong notes. I felt like a beginner and was motivated to continue playing only when I saw our strings teacher, Ms. Flavia, and my aunt's supportive smiles. Three months later, I stood on stage with 200 eyes on our mariachi group. The audience’s chatter put me at ease, reminding me I was playing for my community. My heart beat through my whole being, waiting for the cue from Ms. Flavia. I had come a long way from plucking strings in the corner of the rehearsal room to playing my heart out on stage. The community’s excitement was contagious, especially seeing my parents standing in the audience cheering. Mariachi Villa Musica is open to all ages, which allows so many different skill levels to learn from each other. Ms. Flavia has guided me from feeling like a beginner to walking into class confident in my ability to read sheet music and play solos. I hope to pass on this impact to the younger students in the class by guiding them through our shared passion for mariachi and celebrating our Latino culture. In college, I plan to continue playing with a mariachi. Being in Mariachi Villamúsica is more than just being involved in an extracurricular activity; it is a way to connect with my Mexican culture and grow closer to my grandfather, my Tata. Each mariachi song I play pays homage to the three generations of mariachis in my family who came before me. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

“Your mom mentioned that you helped test your Dexcom sensor.” My lead nurse, Ms. Carlotta, said during one of my post-diagnosis check-ups. “Oh yeah, I did. That seems like so long ago.” On October 31, 2023, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I spent my Halloween in a brightly lit ER room as nurses took blood samples and ran tests. I lay there processing how my whole life was changing. In the spring of 2021, I was part of a school research team for Dexcom. My job was to perform tests with the not-yet-released glucose sensor, G7, and report the machine's reactions over 72 hours to various day-to-day items like sunscreen, cooking oil, and lotion. Before we began the experiments, a Dexcom representative talked to our class about how our experiments would impact those who rely on the G7 to control their diabetes. I never thought that I’d be one of those who rely on the G7 for my health. The first week post-diagnosis was one of the scariest times of my life. What got me through this time was my community of friends and family. I am fortunate enough to have friends and family who also have T1D and have helped me adjust to my new routines. People like my friend Chesney, whom I met in kindergarten and who also has T1D, encouraged me to see my diagnosis differently. “I can just see the life I was going to have, and now it’s just…gone.” “Lucia, it never went away. It’s just going to include diabetes now.” Almost four months since my diagnosis, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve been motivated to embrace healthier habits as an investment in my health’s future. I’ve realized that I need to give grace to myself when I make mistakes and not let T1D keep me from pursuing opportunities. I felt this most when returning to school after being hospitalized. With the support of my loved ones and teachers, I have learned how to navigate everyday events like exercise, going out with friends, and calculating insulin amounts in restaurants. My diagnosis has also increased my advocacy and creative voices by training my friends for T1D emergencies and running an Instagram account focused on accessible fashion for diabetics. In college, I plan to use my knowledge of T1D to continue educating myself and others about this disease. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

“Your mom mentioned that you helped test your Dexcom sensor.” My lead nurse, Ms. Carlotta, said during one of my post-diagnosis check-ups. “Oh yeah, I did. That seems like so long ago.” On October 31, 2023, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I spent my Halloween in a brightly lit ER room as nurses took blood samples and ran tests. I lay there processing how my whole life was changing. In the spring of 2021, I was part of a school research team for Dexcom. My job was to perform tests with the not-yet-released glucose sensor, G7, and report the machine's reactions over 72 hours to various day-to-day items like sunscreen, cooking oil, and lotion. Before we began the experiments, a Dexcom representative talked to our class about how our experiments would impact those who rely on the G7 to control their diabetes. I never thought that I’d be one of those who rely on the G7 for my health. The first week post-diagnosis was one of the scariest times of my life. What got me through this time was my community of friends and family. I am fortunate enough to have friends and family who also have T1D and have helped me adjust to my new routines. People like my friend Chesney, whom I met in kindergarten and who also has T1D, encouraged me to see my diagnosis differently. “I can just see the life I was going to have, and now it’s just…gone.” “Lucia, it never went away. It’s just going to include diabetes now.” Almost two months since my diagnosis, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve been motivated to embrace healthier habits as an investment in my health’s future. I’ve realized that I need to give grace to myself when I make mistakes and not let T1D keep me from pursuing opportunities. I felt this most when returning to school after being hospitalized. With the support of my loved ones and teachers, I have learned how to navigate everyday events like exercise, going out with friends, and calculating insulin amounts in restaurants. My diagnosis has also increased my advocacy and creative voices by training my friends for T1D emergencies and running an Instagram account focused on accessible fashion for diabetics. In college, I plan to use my knowledge of T1D to continue educating myself and others about this disease. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

“Your mom mentioned that you helped test your Dexcom sensor.” My lead nurse, Ms. Carlotta, said during one of my post-diagnosis check-ups. “Oh yeah, I did. That seems like so long ago.” On October 31, 2023, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I spent my Halloween in a brightly lit ER room as nurses took blood samples and ran tests. I lay there processing how my whole life was changing. In the spring of 2021, I was part of a school research team for Dexcom. My job was to perform tests with the not-yet-released glucose sensor, G7, and report the machine's reactions over 72 hours to various day-to-day items like sunscreen, cooking oil, and lotion. Before we began the experiments, a Dexcom representative talked to our class about how our experiments would impact those who rely on the G7 to control their diabetes. I never thought that I’d be one of those who rely on the G7 for my health. The first week post-diagnosis was one of the scariest times of my life. What got me through this time was my community of friends and family. I am fortunate enough to have friends and family who also have T1D and have helped me adjust to my new routines. People like my friend Chesney, whom I met in kindergarten and who also has T1D, encouraged me to see my diagnosis differently. “I can just see the life I was going to have, and now it’s just…gone.” “Lucia, it never went away. It’s just going to include diabetes now.” Almost two months since my diagnosis, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve been motivated to embrace healthier habits as an investment in my health’s future. I’ve realized that I need to give grace to myself when I make mistakes and not let T1D keep me from pursuing opportunities. I felt this most when returning to school after being hospitalized. With the support of my loved ones and teachers, I have learned how to navigate everyday events like exercise, going out with friends, and calculating insulin amounts in restaurants. My diagnosis has also increased my advocacy and creative voices by training my friends for T1D emergencies and running an Instagram account focused on accessible fashion for diabetics. In college, I plan to use my knowledge of T1D to continue educating myself and others about this disease. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Before the age of five, my younger brother, Camilo, was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. Throughout my educational career, I have found community through the volunteering and advocacy work I do with students who have physical disabilities. This began in fourth grade, guiding younger students with autism through social situations all the way into high school when I mentored young students of color who needed extra social and academic support. I have always supported Camilo through the perspective of being his biggest ally until this past Halloween. On October 31, 2023, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I spent my Halloween in a brightly lit ER room as nurses took blood samples and ran tests. I lay there processing how my whole life was changing. Now, I write from the perspective of walking alongside Camilo on our journey of navigating type 1 diabetes together.

Growing up with both parents as educators, school has always been my second home. From a young age, I was taught the value of education and was fortunate enough to receive quality education from teachers with whom I shared a cultural background. However this is not the reality for all students. “They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech Elementary. I volunteered with fourth graders who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I provided academic and emotional support by listening to the problems that students felt were “unimportant" to the school's faculty - many of whom did not share the students’ Latino backgrounds. Volunteering sparked the question: Why does High Tech High (HTH) not have a diverse faculty that reflects the student body? To investigate this question, I completed a research internship at the HTH Graduate School of Education (GSE). With the mentorship of Dr. Sarah Fine, I analyzed declining retention rates among Brown and Black educators by conducting preliminary analyses to find root causes. Through my research, I heard the educational stories of more than a dozen HTH students and learned more about the underlying factors that make a “good” or “bad” educational experience. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues and barriers in our education system and a drive to create quality and equitable supports for future generations of educators of color. My research demonstrated that many students of color do not pursue teaching due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Through my recommended course of action for the HTH system, we have begun a peer tutoring program to recruit high schoolers into teaching careers. During my time at High Tech High, I have served as a Student Ambassador, giving bilingual tours to our Spanish-speaking families. I have been part of the HTH Journalism Club and have had my articles published in the monthly school newsletter. I created Mechista Magazine (MMag) to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. MMag is a first-of-its-kind, student-run, and funded magazine. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. Recently, I was voted as the High Tech High ASB President and I was also nominated and received the Yale Book Award for my leadership and academics. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. Amidst the COVID pandemic, my dad suffered a massive stroke. My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” One day, I will be an education lawyer and will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo and my students, Delena and Malaya, to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I wanted to scream and tell them their ignorance prevented them from connecting with amazing people like Camilo. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. I’ve found that people often judge others who don’t fit into their definition of “normal.” At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. As HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to celebrate all students. On December 15, I was accepted into Stanford University. One day, I will be an education lawyer and will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena and Malaya, ensuring that our school systems do not fail them and their families.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I wanted to scream and tell them their ignorance prevented them from connecting with amazing people like Camilo. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. I’ve found that people often judge others who don’t fit into their definition of “normal.” At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. As HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to celebrate all students. On December 15, I was accepted into Stanford University. One day, I will be an education lawyer and will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena and Malaya, ensuring that our school systems do not fail them and their families.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I wanted to scream and tell them their ignorance prevented them from connecting with amazing people like Camilo. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Entering my junior year, I sought to turn my advocacy efforts to impact students directly. Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. I’ve found that people often judge others who don’t fit into their definition of “normal.” At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. As HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to celebrate all students. One day, I will be an education lawyer and will advocate on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena and Malaya, to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families.

Growing up with both parents who are educators, school has always been my second home. From a young age, I was taught the value of education and was fortunate enough to receive quality education from teachers with whom I shared a cultural background with. However this is not the reality for all students. “They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech Elementary. I volunteered with fourth graders, who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I provided academic and emotional support by listening to the problems that students felt were “unimportant" to the school's faculty - many of whom did not share the students’ Latino background. Volunteering sparked the question: Why does High Tech High (HTH) not have a diverse faculty that reflects the student body? To investigate this question, I completed a research internship at the HTH Graduate School of Education (GSE). With the mentorship of Dr. Sarah Fine, I analyzed declining retention rates among Brown and Black educators by conducting preliminary analyses to find root causes. Through my research, I heard the educational stories of more than a dozen HTH students and learned about the underlying factors that make a “good” or “bad” educational experience. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality support for future generations of educators of color. My research demonstrated that many students of color do not pursue teaching due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Through my recommended course of action for the HTH system, we have begun a peer tutoring program to recruit high schoolers into teaching careers. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of my family's and teachers' support and guidance that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University through Restricted Early Action. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical bills. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover for my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life.

My family is from a small town named Tecolotlán in the Mexican state of Jalisco. Mariachi is a well-known music genre that originated in Jalisco, and I embrace that ancestral tradition by being a fourth-generation mariachi player. I grew up with music all around me. Family birthdays mean singing five songs with guitar and chorus - long enough to have candles half-melted when you blow them out. Though I grew up listening to mariachi and playing the violin since I was seven, I had never played mariachi until the fall of 2022 when my aunt invited me to join her and my grandfather as part of a community mariachi. Mariachi Villamúsica is the intergenerational community mariachi that meets at the Logan Heights Library every Saturday. I have earned each painful callus on my fingers through hours of practicing classical violin music. I began earning even more painful calluses as I learned to play mariachi songs. The first time I played with Mariachi Villamúsica, my cheeks turned red when I hit the wrong notes. I felt like a beginner and was motivated to continue playing only when I saw our strings teacher, Ms. Flavia, and my aunt's supportive smiles. Three months later, I stood on stage with 200 eyes on our mariachi group. The audience’s chatter put me at ease, reminding me I was playing for my community. My heart beat through my whole being, waiting for the cue from Ms. Flavia. I had come a long way from plucking strings in the corner of the rehearsal room to playing my heart out on stage. The community’s excitement was contagious, especially seeing my parents standing in the audience cheering. Mariachi Villa Musica is open to all ages, which allows so many different skill levels to learn from each other. Ms. Flavia has guided me from feeling like a beginner to walking into class confident in my ability to read sheet music and play solos. I hope to pass on this impact to the younger students in the class by guiding them through our shared passion for mariachi and celebrating our Latino culture. In college, I plan to continue playing with a mariachi. Being in Mariachi Villamúsica is more than just being involved in an extracurricular activity; it is a way to connect with my Mexican culture and grow closer to my grandfather, my Tata. Each mariachi song I play pays homage to the three generations of mariachis in my family who came before me. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Growing up with both parents who are educators, school has always been my second home. From a young age, I was taught the value of education and was fortunate enough to receive quality education from teachers with whom I shared a cultural background with. However this is not the reality for all students. “They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech Elementary. I volunteered with fourth graders, who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I provided academic and emotional support by listening to the problems that students felt were “unimportant" to the school's faculty - many of whom did not share the students’ Latino background. Volunteering sparked the question: Why does High Tech High (HTH) not have a diverse faculty that reflects the student body? To investigate this question, I completed a research internship at the HTH Graduate School of Education (GSE). With the mentorship of Dr. Sarah Fine, I analyzed declining retention rates among Brown and Black educators by conducting preliminary analyses to find root causes. Through my research, I heard the educational stories of more than a dozen HTH students and learned about the underlying factors that make a “good” or “bad” educational experience. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality support for future generations of educators of color. My research demonstrated that many students of color do not pursue teaching due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Through my recommended course of action for the HTH system, we have begun a peer tutoring program to recruit high schoolers into teaching careers. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of my family's and teachers' support and guidance that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University through Restricted Early Action. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical bills. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover for my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I wanted to scream and tell them their ignorance prevented them from connecting with amazing people like Camilo. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. At three years old, Camilo was diagnosed with autism as well as type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. On October 31, 2023, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I spent my Halloween in a brightly lit ER room as nurses took blood samples and ran tests. I lay there processing how my whole life was changing. In the spring of 2021, I was part of a school research team for Dexcom. My job was to perform tests with the not-yet-released glucose sensor, G7, and report the machine's reactions over 72 hours to various day-to-day items like sunscreen, cooking oil, and lotion. Before we began the experiments, a Dexcom representative talked to our class about how our experiments would impact those who rely on the G7 to control their diabetes. I never thought that I’d be one of those who rely on the G7 for my health. The first week post-diagnosis was one of the scariest times of my life. What got me through this time was my community of friends and family. I am fortunate enough to have friends and family who also have T1D and have helped me adjust to my new routines. People like my friend Chesney, whom I met in kindergarten and who also has T1D, encouraged me to see my diagnosis differently. “I can see the life I was going to have, and now it’s just…gone.” “Lucia, it never went away. It’s just going to include diabetes now.” Almost two months since my diagnosis, I’ve learned a lot and motivated to embrace healthier habits as an investment in my health’s future. I’ve realized that I need to give grace to myself when I make mistakes and not let T1D keep me from pursuing opportunities. I felt this most when returning to school after being hospitalized. With the support of my loved ones and teachers, I have learned how to navigate everyday events like asking for academic accommodations, going out with friends and calculating insulin amounts in restaurants. My diagnosis has also increased my advocacy and creative voices by training my friends for T1D emergencies and running an Instagram account focused on accessible fashion for diabetics. In college, I plan to use my knowledge of T1D to continue educating myself and others about this disease.

Growing up with both parents as educators, school has always been my second home. From a young age, I was taught the value of education and was fortunate enough to receive quality education from teachers with whom I shared a cultural background. However this is not the reality for all students. “They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech Elementary. I volunteered with fourth graders who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I provided academic and emotional support by listening to the problems that students felt were “unimportant" to the school's faculty - many of whom did not share the students’ Latino backgrounds. Volunteering sparked the question: Why does High Tech High (HTH) not have a diverse faculty that reflects the student body? To investigate this question, I completed a research internship at the HTH Graduate School of Education (GSE). With the mentorship of Dr. Sarah Fine, I analyzed declining retention rates among Brown and Black educators by conducting preliminary analyses to find root causes. Through my research, I heard the educational stories of more than a dozen HTH students and learned more about the underlying factors that make a “good” or “bad” educational experience. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues and barriers in our education system and a drive to create quality and equitable supports for future generations of educators of color. My research demonstrated that many students of color do not pursue teaching due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Through my recommended course of action for the HTH system, we have begun a peer tutoring program to recruit high schoolers into teaching careers. During my time at High Tech High, I have served as a Student Ambassador, giving bilingual tours to our Spanish-speaking families. I have been part of the HTH Journalism Club and have had my articles published in the monthly school newsletter. I created Mechista Magazine (MMag) to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. MMag is a first-of-its-kind, student-run, and funded magazine. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. Recently, I was voted as the High Tech High ASB President and I was also nominated and received the Yale Book Award for my leadership and academics. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of the support and guidance from my family and teachers that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University through Restricted Early Action. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical expenses. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Growing up with both parents who are educators, school has always been my second home. From a young age, I was taught the value of education and was fortunate enough to receive quality education from teachers with whom I shared a cultural background with. However this is not the reality for all students. “They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech Elementary. I volunteered with fourth graders, who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I provided academic and emotional support by listening to the problems that students felt were “unimportant" to the school's faculty - many of whom did not share the students’ Latino background. Volunteering sparked the question: Why does High Tech High (HTH) not have a diverse faculty that reflects the student body? To investigate this question, I completed a research internship at the HTH Graduate School of Education (GSE). With the mentorship of Dr. Sarah Fine, I analyzed declining retention rates among Brown and Black educators by conducting preliminary analyses to find root causes. Through my research, I heard the educational stories of more than a dozen HTH students and learned about the underlying factors that make a “good” or “bad” educational experience. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality support for future generations of educators of color. My research demonstrated that many students of color do not pursue teaching due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Through my recommended course of action for the HTH system, we have begun a peer tutoring program to recruit high schoolers into teaching careers. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of my family's and teachers' support and guidance that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University through Restricted Early Action. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical bills. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover for my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life.

Growing up with both parents who are educators, school has always been my second home. From a young age, I was taught the value of education and was fortunate enough to receive quality education from teachers with whom I shared a cultural background with. However this is not the reality for all students. “They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech Elementary. I volunteered with fourth graders, who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I provided academic and emotional support by listening to the problems that students felt were “unimportant" to the school's faculty - many of whom did not share the students’ Latino background. Volunteering sparked the question: Why does High Tech High (HTH) not have a diverse faculty that reflects the student body? To investigate this question, I completed a research internship at the HTH Graduate School of Education (GSE). With the mentorship of Dr. Sarah Fine, I analyzed declining retention rates among Brown and Black educators by conducting preliminary analyses to find root causes. Through my research, I heard the educational stories of more than a dozen HTH students and learned about the underlying factors that make a “good” or “bad” educational experience. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality support for future generations of educators of color. My research demonstrated that many students of color do not pursue teaching due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Through my recommended course of action for the HTH system, we have begun a peer tutoring program to recruit high schoolers into teaching careers. Throughout my educational career, I knew one day I would pursue higher education. It is because of my family's and teachers' support and guidance that I remain motivated to be a life-long learner. On December 15, 2023, I was accepted to Stanford University through Restricted Early Action. One day, I will be in the education field advocating on behalf of students to ensure that our school systems do not fail them and their families. Being awarded this scholarship would provide immense financial help for me and my family. Within a year of each other, my dad suffered a massive stroke and my mom was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer, which has left our family with many long-term medical bills. In addition, my younger brother, Camilo, and I both have type 1 diabetes and rely on insulin and many other medical supplies for our care. In my pursuit of higher education, having the security of knowing that I have funds to cover for my education and medical care will allow me to thrive in this next chapter of my life.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Entering my junior year, I sought to turn my advocacy efforts to impact students directly. Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. During M.E.Ch.A. meetings, students expressed not feeling reflected in our school community and unheard in classrooms taught by white teachers. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. MMag is a first-of-its-kind, student-run, and funded magazine. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. Now, as HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to represent and celebrate all students. One day, I will be an education lawyer, advocating on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena, and Malaya, ensuring that school systems do not fail them and their families.

“They always ask when you’re coming back,” Ms. Beth told me when I began volunteering at High Tech High Elementary School. During my sophomore year, I volunteered weekly with fourth graders who referred to me as their “mini teacher.” I supported the students academically, played games with them, and let them use my hands to practice new techniques for the nail art business they ran. I entered volunteering thinking I would be an academic help, but I was wrong. Sometimes, I just listened to the problems students felt were “unimportant " to the school's adults. I also understood their cultural backgrounds, which their primarily white teachers could not. Volunteering sparked the question: Why don’t we have more teachers of color in the High Tech High system? I completed a research internship at the High Tech High (HTH) Graduate School of Education (GSE) to pursue this question. Every junior at HTH has a four-week academic internship during the spring semester. Throughout my time at the GSE, I contributed to graduate-level discussions of what Ethnic Studies looks like in K-12 school curriculums and analyzed declining retention rates among educators of color. These discussions led me to research and further refine my essential question: What support do our future educators of color need to succeed? Before my internship, I had never conducted academic-level research. However, with my mentors, Dr. Sarah Fine and Dr. Carol Battle, I developed my research skills and learned to turn transcripts and observations into preliminary analyses. My data showed that many students of color who consider becoming educators do not pursue this path due to academic tracking and lack of familial support. Using my data, I created a recommended course of action for the HTH organization to help students of color gain exposure to careers in education. One of the recommendations is a peer tutoring program I am helping to roll out in HTH elementary schools. I left the GSE with a deeper understanding of systemic issues in our education system and a drive to create quality academic experiences for future generations of educators of color.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Entering my junior year, I sought to turn my advocacy efforts to impact students directly. Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. During M.E.Ch.A. meetings, students expressed not feeling reflected in our school community and unheard in classrooms taught by white teachers. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. MMag is a first-of-its-kind, student-run, and funded magazine. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. Now, as HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to represent and celebrate all students. One day, I will be an education lawyer, advocating on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena, and Malaya, ensuring that school systems do not fail them and their families.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Entering my junior year, I sought to turn my advocacy efforts to impact students directly. Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. During M.E.Ch.A. meetings, students expressed not feeling reflected in our school community and unheard in classrooms taught by white teachers. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. MMag is a first-of-its-kind, student-run, and funded magazine. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. Now, as HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to represent and celebrate all students. One day, I will be an education lawyer, advocating on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena, and Malaya, ensuring that school systems do not fail them and their families.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Entering my junior year, I sought to turn my advocacy efforts to impact students directly. Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. During M.E.Ch.A. meetings, students expressed not feeling reflected in our school community and unheard in classrooms taught by white teachers. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. MMag is a first-of-its-kind, student-run, and funded magazine. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. Now, as HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to represent and celebrate all students. One day, I will be an education lawyer, advocating on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena, and Malaya, ensuring that school systems do not fail them and their families.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Entering my junior year, I sought to turn my advocacy efforts to impact students directly. Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. During M.E.Ch.A. meetings, students expressed not feeling reflected in our school community and unheard in classrooms taught by white teachers. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. MMag is a first-of-its-kind, student-run, and funded magazine. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. Now, as HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to represent and celebrate all students. One day, I will be an education lawyer, advocating on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena, and Malaya, ensuring that school systems do not fail them and their families.

“He’s acting weird. Why’s he like that?” my friend said after my brother, Camilo, left the room. A piece of me broke. I did not speak until I was four. Despite three years of speech therapy, my parents tell me I didn’t find my voice until Camilo was born. At age three, Camilo was diagnosed with autism and type 1 diabetes. I have been a passionate ally to Camilo until this past Halloween when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I became Camilo’s shield at school, marking the beginning of my advocacy work. Type 1 diabetes and autism require patience and understanding, especially when Camilo experiences sensory overload, and his glucose monitor alerts us that something is wrong. I have learned to handle these high-stress situations with focus and patience. In fourth grade, I volunteered with a school program called S.O.A.R. (Sharing Our Acceptance and Respect). While serving as a mentor “buddy” to special needs students, I observed immense growth as they went from shy kindergarteners to initiating friendships with peers. I smiled most on the days I got to run around with the students and their new friends, pretending to be the “Special Agent Spying Flying Unicorns.” It wasn’t just my unicorn hat that gave me the confidence to act as a peer mentor; it was also watching how students on the autism spectrum thrived and began to find success and happiness at school. During the COVID lockdown, my brother and I were accepted into High Tech High (HTH), a project-based learning school. Our transition was going well when, unexpectedly, our dad suffered a massive stroke. After logging off Zoom, I would visit my dad through a hospital window (due to COVID restrictions). My dad lost the ability to drive for a year, so I began dropping off and picking up Camilo at school, where I met Ms. Beth. She not only worked closely with Camilo as his special education teacher but also became our family’s advocate at HTH. She maintained Camilo on a positive academic path and did the same for me by inviting me to volunteer at Camilo’s school. I began volunteering with students like Malaya and Delena. The teachers told me they were good students but couldn’t focus. Yet, I saw two young girls who felt unheard in school and acted uninterested as a defense mechanism. Sometimes, their issues could be solved with academic help, but most of the time, they needed a non-judgmental ear that could validate their issues and not label them as “unimportant.” Entering my junior year, I sought to turn my advocacy efforts to impact students directly. Camilo helped me find my spoken voice, but Mechista Magazine (MMag) developed my written voice. During M.E.Ch.A. meetings, students expressed not feeling reflected in our school community and unheard in classrooms taught by white teachers. I created MMag to uplift the voices of our Latino community at school. MMag is a first-of-its-kind, student-run, and funded magazine. In a school that upholds innovation and equity, MMag is innovation from a Brown perspective. “He’s not weird,” was how I responded to my friend’s comment about Camilo. At ten years old, I didn’t have the language to name my friend’s internalized ableism, but now I do. Now, as HTH’s first Latina ASB President and recently being diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, I use my platform to represent and celebrate all students. One day, I will be an education lawyer, advocating on behalf of students like Camilo, Delena and Malaya, ensuring that school systems do not fail them and their families.