From First-Gen Student to Future Mars Builder: NASA's Open Door Is Real
Nobody Told Them Space Was For Them — So They Figured It Out Anyway
Growing up in Fresno, California, Marisol Guerrero didn't have a parent who'd been to college. She didn't have a family friend who worked at a lab or a high school counselor who knew what a NASA fellowship even was. What she had was a beat-up laptop, a public library card, and a stubborn belief that space was something she could be part of — not just watch from the outside.
Today, she's completing her second NASA internship at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, working on atmospheric modeling for future Mars surface missions.
Her story isn't a fluke. It's becoming a pattern — and NASA is actively trying to make it more common.
The Programs You Probably Haven't Heard Of
When most people think "NASA internship," they picture a competitive, nearly impossible slot reserved for Ivy League engineering students. That version exists. But it's not the only version — and it's not even close to the most interesting one.
Over the past decade, NASA has expanded a suite of programs specifically designed to pull talent from communities that traditional STEM pipelines have ignored. Here are a few worth knowing:
NASA Internships (intern.nasa.gov) — This is the main portal, and it's more accessible than its reputation suggests. Applications are open to U.S. citizens enrolled in accredited institutions, including community colleges. Yes, community colleges. That's not a footnote — it's a feature.
NASA Minority University Research and Education Project (MUREP) — This initiative funnels funding and opportunities directly to Minority Serving Institutions, including HBCUs, Hispanic-Serving Institutions (HSIs), and Tribal Colleges. MUREP isn't just a scholarship — it's a whole ecosystem of research partnerships, internships, and fellowships built around the idea that the best space scientists aren't concentrated at a handful of elite schools.
NASA HBCU and MSI Engagement — Through formal partnerships with schools like Howard University, Morgan State, and Florida A&M, NASA places students into real mission-support roles. These aren't coffee-fetching internships. Students work on actual hardware, actual data, actual problems.
Space Grant Consortium — Every U.S. state has one. The National Space Grant College and Fellowship Program distributes NASA funding through a network of state-based universities, offering scholarships, fellowships, and research opportunities that are often far less competitive than the headline programs — and just as valuable.
Why Diversity Isn't Just a Talking Point — It's Mission-Critical
Let's be direct about something: making Mars exploration more inclusive isn't just the right thing to do socially. It's the smart thing to do scientifically.
Mars missions fail or succeed based on problem-solving. And the research on diverse teams is clear — groups with varied backgrounds, experiences, and cognitive approaches consistently outperform homogeneous ones on complex challenges. When you're designing a habitat for humans who will live in a radiation-soaked, low-gravity environment 140 million miles from Earth, you want every good idea on the table. You want the person who grew up without reliable electricity thinking about power redundancy. You want the person who navigated food insecurity thinking about closed-loop agricultural systems.
The people we've historically left out of space science aren't a charity case. They're an untapped resource — and missions to Mars will be better because of them.
What the Application Process Actually Looks Like
One of the biggest barriers for first-gen students isn't eligibility — it's knowing how to navigate a system nobody in their family has ever touched. So here's the practical breakdown:
Start at intern.nasa.gov. Create a profile, upload your resume, and browse open opportunities by location, discipline, and session (spring, summer, fall). The interface is clunky but manageable. Apply to more than one position.
Your GPA doesn't have to be perfect. Many programs ask for a 3.0 minimum. Some are more flexible. What matters more than a spotless transcript is a clear statement of interest and demonstrated curiosity about the work.
The personal statement is your edge. First-gen students often undersell their own stories. Growing up navigating systems without a guide, holding down jobs while studying, translating for your family — these are experiences that build exactly the kind of resilience and adaptability NASA needs. Write about that. Don't sanitize your background to sound more "traditional."
Get a faculty recommendation early. Even a community college professor who knows your work ethic will carry weight. Ask early, give them context, and make it easy for them to write something specific.
Look for your state's Space Grant Consortium. Google "[your state] Space Grant" and you'll find a program that may have funding specifically set aside for students at institutions in your area. These are often dramatically less competitive than national programs.
"I Didn't Know I Was Allowed To"
That phrase comes up a lot when first-gen students talk about applying to NASA. There's a psychological weight to it — this sense that certain institutions exist for other people, people who already belong.
It's worth naming that feeling and then setting it aside, because the programs described above were literally built in response to it. They exist because people inside NASA looked at who was coming through the door and decided the answer wasn't good enough.
Jasmine Okafor, a junior at Morgan State studying aerospace engineering, put it plainly: "My advisor told me to apply. I thought she was joking. Then I got in, and I thought there had been a mistake. By week three I realized — no, I'm just good at this. I was always good at this. I just needed the door to be open."
Mars Needs You — Specifically
Here's the thing about building a civilization on another planet: it has never been done before. There's no template. There's no established industry with entrenched insiders who know exactly how it's supposed to go.
That's actually an opportunity.
The people who will figure out how humans survive and thrive on Mars aren't necessarily the ones who checked every conventional box on the way up. They might be the ones who learned to improvise, who built things with limited resources, who solved problems without a safety net.
First-generation college students know something about all of that.
Mars for the Many isn't just a slogan. It's a design principle. The more kinds of people we get into these pipelines — the more communities that see themselves reflected in space science — the more likely we are to actually pull this off.
The door is open. The application is free. The deadline is worth hitting.
Ready to apply? Start at intern.nasa.gov and search your state's Space Grant Consortium. The path to Mars runs right through your browser.
