I grew up in Puerto Rico, never really imagining the person I would become. As a kid, my ambition was simple: to inherit my father’s job and skills. He was a cabinet maker, and I would rush home from school to work in his shop. There, I learned practical math skills far beyond what school ever taught me. I discovered that efficiency was key, and these early lessons shaped my understanding of problem-solving. Funny enough, those math skills carried me through school, giving me a head start in subjects that others found challenging.
When I was 12, my family moved to the US, where I spent four years before moving back to Puerto Rico. This experience not only helped me learn English but also opened my mind to the idea that there was more to life than my small island. I became curious about the world and developed a desire to travel. At 18, driven by this curiosity, I joined the United States Coast Guard, which took me to places like Alaska, Honduras, Colombia, Palau, Guam, Japan, Kiribati, Tahiti, and eventually, Hawaii.
Hawaii was a turning point. It reminded me so much of Puerto Rico, and the nostalgia hit hard. I found myself reconnecting with things I once took for granted, like dance. Back in Puerto Rico and New York, I danced but never truly enjoyed it. In Hawaii, I started dancing again, this time with more passion, and even began teaching dance while still in the Coast Guard. Teaching Salsa and Bachata on the island felt like bringing a piece of home to a distant place.
However, after leaving the military, I faced the unknown. My initial plan was to travel, but then COVID-19 hit, forcing me to reconsider my priorities. Dance was fulfilling but physically demanding and unpredictable during uncertain times. I needed something more stable yet still creative, innovative, and colorful. One day, while browsing courses, I saw “Computer and Electrical Engineering” and thought, why not? I knew absolutely nothing about electricity or computers, but that made it perfect. I wanted a challenge, a blank canvas to explore.
I started at Kapiolani Community College (KCC) because a friend recommended it. The environment at KCC was perfect for learning—open fields, enthusiastic teachers, and a welcoming atmosphere. My favorite classes included Digital Art Design, Basic Programming, Calculus II, and Circuit Analysis. Engineering felt restrictive at first—full of rules and formulas. But I remembered my dance training: before breaking the rules, you have to know them. Engineering began to make sense when I viewed it like choreography—structured at first but fluid once mastered.
Transferring to UH Manoa was both exciting and terrifying. My first semester felt overwhelming—Object-Oriented Programming, Digital Circuit Design, Quantum Physics, and Calculus III. I coded till 4 am, experimenting with C and C++ using terminal and Vim. It felt like drinking from a fire hose, but it was also thrilling. I loved the challenge of writing linked lists, structs, and classes, and then testing them without AI assistance. It was hands-on problem-solving at its best.
In Digital Architecture, I had a similar experience. The class didn’t teach Vivado or Verilog practices; it just gave us the requirements, and we had to figure it out ourselves. We struggled as a team to make lights blink on an FPGA board, but through trial, error, and collaboration, we made it work. This experience taught me that engineering isn’t just technical—it’s creative problem-solving. Working in groups, drawing out solutions on a whiteboard, and explaining concepts to each other.
My background in dance helped more than I expected. Clear communication, breaking down complex ideas, and encouraging teamwork were skills I carried from teaching dance to my new technical field. I learned that even in technical presentations, the goal isn’t to sound smart; it’s to make ideas accessible. My approach was to simplify concepts so that even those with the least experience could follow. Clarity over complexity became my principle.
Joining the GameDev Club at UH Manoa was another pivotal moment. Game development felt like creating small, dynamic worlds that expressed imagination. I became the Coding Officer, managing and teaching new programmers. It was challenging, especially balancing the artistic and technical aspects. Coders wanted to code, and artists wanted to draw, but game development required both to blend seamlessly. This was a lot like my time in the Coast Guard, where everyone had to adapt to roles outside their primary duties—like firefighting or damage control.
We built three games during my time as Coding Officer. The process wasn’t flawless, but it was rewarding. We had to animate, debug, and work with Unity’s UI systems. I realized that leadership in game development is about guiding others to see the bigger picture—how every piece of code, art, and logic contributes to a unified experience.
I have come to see engineering not as a series of rigid formulas, but as an opportunity for creative exploration. I like to challenge axioms, break formulas, and see what happens. Sometimes I’m wrong, but that’s the point—it’s a chance to learn. I would rather understand the “why” than memorize the “what.” This approach makes engineering colorful, just like dance. My goal is not just efficiency but effectiveness—clear solutions that make sense to anyone who revisits them.
In the end, I am a creator—whether it’s dance routines, game mechanics, or digital circuits. I thrive on making sense of chaos, finding patterns, and building something meaningful out of the abstract. To me, engineering is art—crafted with logic, driven by curiosity, and shaped by experience.