High schoolers come in all shapes and sizes, viewpoints, and abilities. Our lives can be messy, complex—but often hilarious. If you're an adult, we probably see things differently than you do. And if we face added challenges like autism, anxiety, or ADHD, understanding us can be even more difficult.
In this episode of Voices del Valle, we’ll explore what it’s like to live in the Valley with one of these differences. We’re going to talk about living with one of the "Three A’s"—and break down stigmas, share relatable experiences, and offer practical tips for navigating the daily challenges we face. Be ready to laugh, learn, and realize that you are definitely not alone.
Welcome back to The Three A’s: autism, anxiety, and ADHD.
Our first conversation is about living in the Valley with autism. Her viewpoints are outspoken and confident, offering a powerful perspective on how people with neurodivergence can feel isolated from their peers. Despite this, her strong sense of self prevails. Today, she’ll share two incredible poems she wrote about how she sees the world.
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Angela: Hello, thank you for joining me today. I’m Angela, and I’m here with Yelin Ojeda. Today, we’re going to discuss your poem. Can you give us a bit of insight?
Yelin: Sure, no problem. My poems—well, my computer in the poem—is meant to be a metaphor for autistic identity and how it functions in a world where neurological difference isn’t normalized or generally accepted yet. So, my goal with the poems was to show both sides of the coin. The person representing identity is a computer. Even though computers might look the same and perform the same basic functions, their inner workings are vastly different, which sets them apart—like comparing a MacBook to a Dell. They both do what they’re meant to do, but their functionality and feel are significantly different.
So, I used that as an allegory for autistic identity. In the poems, I explore how the first protagonist feels about the second protagonist’s response to their "device"—their identity. That confusion turns into alienation and then villainization of the first protagonist. This mirrors what many autistic people, including myself, have experienced.
By expressing this through poetry, I hope other autistic people can feel seen and heard. It shows how scary and cruel the world can be just because someone is different.
Angela: That’s beautiful. It’s really inspiring. I’ve grown up with many neurodivergent cousins and friends, and they were always nervous to speak to me at first. I just wanted them to know this was a safe space. But especially here in the Valley, while many people are kind, there are still those who have narrow views about autism—shaped by the media, hearsay, or just misconceptions passed around in the community.
Yelin: Exactly. There’s this harmful idea that autistic individuals are somehow inferior—that they’re not capable or that it’s something to be "fixed." That kind of thinking does real harm. In my poems, I wanted to show how fast that shift in perception can happen—from curiosity to cruelty. It’s like, “You’re weird because of how you act, and because of that, I want to make you miserable.”
It’s a reflection of how society treats difference. And when people are afraid of what they don’t understand, their first reaction is often to bully or isolate.
I went through that myself. In fourth grade, I was bullied—physically and verbally—just for being different. I liked things that others didn’t, and one person made it their mission to torment me for it. That trauma still stays with me. And now, seeing how normalized this kind of behavior is—it hurts.
Angela: I’m really sorry you had to go through that.
Yelin: Thank you, but I’m okay now. I’ve had a lot of support from people who really helped me get through that tough time.
Angela: That’s amazing. Support really does make all the difference. Was there a specific line in one of your poems that you’d like to highlight?
Yelin: Yes, absolutely. It’s from the second poem. The very last line really hit me: "I’m gonna tell everyone." That line represents how people can take one difference and turn it into a weapon—spreading lies, rumors, and judgments to break someone down. It’s about proving, or at least trying to prove, that someone is lesser just because they’re different.
It shows how some people find fulfillment in causing pain, just because they’re unhappy themselves. They feed on that misery. And it gives them a sense of power, which is so toxic. I’ve had friends push me down emotionally just because I acted differently. But even then, I was always happy with myself. I loved who I was.
Angela: People really do thrive on misery sometimes. And when it becomes the norm, it’s so dangerous. You never know who might turn on you, even those close to you.
Yelin: Right. And I think the best thing we can do is take everything in stride. After everything I’ve been through over the last four years, I’m now a senior—and I’m happier than ever. Freshman and sophomore years were the lowest points of my life. I came out of quarantine after eighth grade, didn’t finish middle school properly, and started high school feeling lost. My grades were bad, and I was struggling.
But in junior year, I said, “Enough.” I decided to turn things around. I worked hard, and now, senior year, I’ve kept that momentum going. I’ve got As and Bs across the board. I’m proud of how far I’ve come.
Angela: That’s so powerful. Thank you so much for joining me today. I’m really excited to hear your poems. Would you like to read them?
Yelin: Of course. These are the two poems I mentioned earlier. The first is called “My Computer.”
My Computer I sat at my desk as I always have, starting a new day. I reached into my bag to grab my computer—trusty, sleek, and gray. The only one, anyway. I look around me. People are staring. Their computers were black and bulkier. Was I in the wrong room? It’s class time. I have to work with someone else. My mind is filled with dread and doom. Things were fine—nothing major. Then we had to use our computers, and a lump grew in my throat. We hit a few errors, some bumps in the road. Nothing too bad—we could recover. But then she asked a question—a major hiccup. "Your computer is weird. Why isn’t it like mine?" "It’s all that I have. I don’t really know why." Back and forth we went, no longer eye to eye. When class ended, she didn’t bother saying goodbye. But why does it matter? They work the same, don’t they? Inside and out, they’re almost one-to-one. At least, to me… anyway.
And the second is called “That Computer.”
That Computer Another day again. Nothing special today. I got out my computer—standard, black, and heavy. Just like everyone else. A newbie walks in. I see what they have: thin and dainty. Why does their computer look like that? The bell rings, the lesson starts. Time to work with partners. They talk funny. Look at me weird. But that’s fine, I guess. Then their computer came out—and it was a mess. It’s bugging me, like a tag on the back of my shirt. I can’t hold it in. This needs to be addressed. "Your computer is weird. Why isn’t it like mine?" I said. "It’s all that I have. I don’t really know why," they replied, a hint of dread. A game of tug-of-war, with words as the rope. Tension pulled tight, like a bad rope burn. It’s weird. They’re weird. That computer is weird. And I’m gonna tell everyone.
Angela: That was wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing your poems and your thoughts.
Yelin: No problem. It’s an honor to be here.
Angela: And to our listeners—we hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the creative mind behind these beautiful poems.
Anxiety Segment
Angela: Anxiety—I've dealt with it my entire life. From elementary school through COVID, it’s stuck with me everywhere I go. But I’ve realized I’m surrounded by people who face similar challenges. So, I sat down with one of my friends to talk about how we deal with everyday anxiety.
Angela: Hello, my name is Angela.
Aaliyah: And my name is Aaliyah.
Angela: Today, we’re going to talk about anxiety. We’ll share our personal experiences and explore how it impacts our daily lives here in the Valley—and what we’ve found that helps.
Aaliyah: Yes, definitely. So to start, anxiety for me is something I deal with every day. I get overstimulated easily. And understanding that I have anxiety—it’s not easy. It’s hard, but it’s not so severe that I can’t function. Still, some days are just really bad. You can have the worst day ever and forget everything you’ve learned about coping. Sometimes, you just blame yourself.
Angela: Yeah, I feel that. Is there anything specific that really triggers your anxiety?
Aaliyah: Oh, definitely. I think everyone has specific triggers. For me, I constantly feel like people are mad at me. I’m a big overthinker. If I hear that someone doesn’t like me, I immediately want to fix it. I always want to be on good terms with everyone.
Angela: I relate to that so much. For me, I often feel like I’m not anyone’s first choice. Like I’m the last option. When I talk to people, I get so nervous I start shaking or using filler words. I can’t think straight. It makes me feel like I’m not worthy, like I’ll never be the best.
Aaliyah: You just never know what someone else is thinking. But at the end of the day, I remind myself that God has me. I know we can become who we want to be if we stay positive and believe in ourselves.
Angela: That’s so true. But anxiety is still really hard. It’s like saying, "Just make the shot in basketball"—it sounds easy, but it’s not. My healing process involves constantly reassuring myself that I’m okay. I try to stay present and focus on the next step.
Aaliyah: Yes! Like when I clean, I get overwhelmed—trash, dishes, moldy tub, homework. But I always start by throwing away the trash. One step at a time. Everything has its place. And if it doesn’t? That’s my mom’s job, haha.
Angela: Exactly. Your brain needs to be organized to function. That’s how I feel too. Everything needs to be perfect. If one thing’s off, I spiral. And it takes so many people telling me someone isn’t good for me before I let them go. I can’t make decisions on my own.
Aaliyah: Me too. Every time I have a hard decision, I need to text my mom. It’s great to have that support, but we also have to learn to rely on ourselves. We can’t always carry other people’s anxiety either. That fear of being alone—it’s real.
Angela: Especially here in the Valley. Everyone knows each other. You always feel like someone’s going to find out your business, and you start overthinking everything.
Aaliyah: Yes! I’ve learned not to care what people think, but sometimes when things go wrong, I just shut down. I go out with friends and pretend I’m fine, but weeks later, it hits me. Why did I act like that? What are people thinking of me?
Angela: I wanted to mention—therapy can help. Here in the Valley, there’s Behavioral Health and other services for anxiety, trauma, and substance use. I did one-on-one counseling, and you can talk about whatever you want. You don’t have to dive into trauma unless you’re ready.
Aaliyah: I did group therapy at Behavioral Health. But not everyone took it seriously—some just went for the snacks. You have to ask yourself: Why am I here? Do I want to get better?
Angela: Exactly. You have to want it. You can’t just sit there and not do the work. Healing is a process, and advocating for yourself is part of it. Setting boundaries is part of it.
Aaliyah: And in the Imperial Valley, you really have to take that first step yourself. Yes, we have family, but in the end, we only have ourselves to shape our future. Your mom won’t do your homework forever. You have to do the work.
Angela: There’s a lot of fear and self-doubt in that process, especially when we think about college or even IVC. You’re not just with high schoolers anymore—there are adults, and you have to learn how to communicate and understand their perspectives.
Aaliyah: Yes, I think about that all the time. One day I’ll be 60 or 80 years old, and I want to look back and tell my kids I lived a full life, even with struggles.
Angela: Exactly. I want to teach my kids the right way, but I’m also scared. I don’t want to pass down my anxiety to them. I want to show them that everything’s okay—that we’re just small people on this Earth trying to make the best of it.
Aaliyah: Same. But I’m excited too. I want to teach my kids coping strategies and plant that seed of resilience so it grows for generations. I want mental health to improve for all of us.
Angela: That was amazing. Thank you so much for sharing. We hope our perspectives help others feel seen and understood.
Aaliyah: Yes, especially our little community. I hope this helps someone out there feel less alone—and know that they can get better.
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ADHD Segment
Angela: We all know that kid who's zooming around the classroom, seems unfocused, and is a challenge to parents and teachers. Then they get diagnosed with ADHD—and medicated. At least, that’s what happened when I was in elementary school.
But medication didn’t always help. So to understand ADHD better, I sat down with two students who experienced both untreated and medicated ADHD.
Davion: My name is David Harfield.
Jesus: I’m Jesus Enya, and today we’re here to talk about our journeys with ADHD.
Davion: I got diagnosed in second grade. I was always kind of a bad kid—not in a mean way, but just all over the place. I got held back in first grade. I didn’t really do my work, I was always distracted. My second-grade teacher, Ms. Cooks, told my mom to have me tested for ADHD. I got diagnosed and started medication—Adderall, I think.
I took it every day. It helped me focus, sure. But it killed my social life. I took Adderall up until sixth grade—stopped around when COVID hit.
Jesus: Same here. I didn’t get diagnosed until seventh grade, but I always showed signs. I would fidget, think ahead too much, and my handwriting was super fast and messy. I just couldn’t stay focused on one thing. School didn’t really help—it made me feel like I had to try 10 times harder just to stay on task.
Davion: The Adderall helped academically. I got my work done, was more focused, but emotionally—it shut me down. I didn’t talk to anyone. I lost weight. I stayed in my room. It felt like my whole personality was gone. I’m normally super outgoing and social, and the meds took that away.
After sixth grade, I stopped taking them. At first, it was hard to focus again, but over time I realized I didn’t need the meds. I just needed to find other ways to stay focused—like staying active, going to the gym, and playing sports. That really helped me regulate myself.
Jesus: Same. I was never on Adderall, but I’ve seen people on it. One of my friends lost so much weight and just seemed distant, even though she said she felt fine. She seemed content, but also kind of lost.
Davion: Yeah. I’m a senior now and doing fine. I still feel like I have some ADHD tendencies, but I’ve learned to manage them. Sports helped a lot. I did football, wrestling, and track. It kept me busy, focused, and out of trouble.
Jesus: And being in the Imperial Valley makes a difference. It’s a small community, so everyone knows each other. That can make social life easier here—you can talk to people about things you all know about. But going to San Diego for college is going to be a big change. I won’t know anyone, and I might not be as social at first.
Davion: True. In bigger cities, you lose that sense of connectedness. But here, it’s easy to strike up conversations. Everyone knows the big events, the games, the people. It makes socializing easier.
Jesus: And staying active helps with focus, too. Once you start seeing progress—at the gym or in sports—it’s motivating. It gives you something to pour your energy into.
Davion: Exactly. Playing football meant I had to keep my grades up. That kept me motivated in class, too. Staying active was my coping mechanism. Without that, I don’t think I would’ve gotten through high school the way I did.
Angela (closing): Being a high schooler in the Imperial Valley comes with stigmas and challenges, but it also gives us a strong sense of community. We hope that through our stories—whether they made you laugh, reflect, or feel seen—you’ve gained a better understanding of what it’s like living with autism, anxiety, or ADHD.
