Hector Trejo: DACC

I wasn’t the kind of kid most teachers believed in.

Growing up, I was labeled early on with a learning disability. I heard things like “He’s slow,” or “He just doesn’t get it.” I was moved along, passed from grade to grade, but always with the unspoken understanding that I probably wouldn’t go far. College? That wasn’t for someone like me.

For a long time, I believed them.

But something in me didn’t quit. I took a chance and enrolled in college—not because I was confident, but because I was curious to know if I could. It wasn’t easy. I had doubts. I struggled. But this time, I had something different: instructors who saw me. Not the label, not my past—but me.

They taught in ways that worked for different kinds of learners. They made space for questions. They believed in potential, not perfection. And because of them, I graduated—with honors. Something I never thought I’d do.

I didn’t plan to become a teacher. It just sort of happened. I was offered a substitute position in an Adult Education classroom in Texas, and I said yes. What I found there changed everything.

These were students with stories—real stories. People who had been through more than most could imagine and still showed up to learn. I saw myself in them.

That one sub job turned into 25 years of full-time teaching. And I loved every minute of it.

After retiring, I thought I was done. But I wasn’t. I started teaching again, this time at Doña Ana Community College. And once again, I found myself in a room full of adults chasing something better for themselves—just like I once did.

Because of my own journey, I know firsthand that learning doesn’t always look like the traditional classroom. I know what it’s like to feel lost, to struggle with reading, to sit quietly because you're afraid of getting it wrong. That’s why I work hard to create classroom environments where everyone feels seen, where every learning style is respected, and where every student knows their voice matters.

That’s what it’s all about for me now—helping students find their voice.

And once they find it, I’ll be there to remind them they deserve to use it.