Student Spotlight: Ashley Antone

In the rural community of Gallup, New Mexico, where I grew up, college wasn’t something most of my classmates considered. When higher education isn’t a common path in your neighborhood, it’s easy to believe it’s not meant for you either. I always knew I wanted to go to college, but I also knew I would have to find my own way forward.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to look far for inspiration. My dad, who earned his degree, showed me through his own journey that education could open doors. His example gave me a roadmap, even when it felt like I was stepping into unfamiliar territory.

For me, basketball was the bridge to that opportunity. An athletic scholarship became my ticket to higher education — and I was fortunate enough to stay close to home, attending New Mexico Highlands University. As a proud member of the Navajo Nation, this meant everything: I could stay connected to my family and my community while forging a future of my own.

Still, that didn’t mean the road was easy. During my time in college, an injury forced me to step away from the sport I loved — and that loss hit hard. As a student-athlete, so much of my identity had been tied to basketball. Without it, I struggled to find my footing. I battled burnout and wrestled with doubts about whether I belonged in college at all.

But quitting was never an option. Basketball might have opened the door, but it wasn’t the reason I kept moving forward. I leaned into my classes, took on a part-time job on campus, and found new ways to lead and contribute. Over time, I realized that the drive and resilience I had built on the court were still a part of me — they just needed a new outlet.

Earning my degree wasn’t just about landing a better job or checking a box — it was about fulfilling a dream I had carried with me for as long as I could remember. It was about proving to myself, and honoring the example my dad had set, that perseverance could take me anywhere. When I flipped my tassel last spring, it wasn’t just a moment of celebration — it was a moment of arrival. I knew I was ready for whatever came next.

Today, I work as an admissions counselor back in the same region where I was raised, helping students believe in their own potential — even when college feels far away or out of reach. I remind them that extraordinary futures are built through small, steady steps, just like the ones I took not so long ago. And by walking alongside them, I hope to make their path a little clearer and a little less intimidating.

Through it all, the belief that education could change my life kept me moving forward. I share my story because I know what it feels like to step into a world that no one fully prepares you for — and how powerful it is to keep going anyway.