Growing up in Renton, Silvia Carias-Centeno didn’t always know where her path would lead, but she knew she wanted to learn. The daughter of Honduran immigrants who came to the U.S. in search of a better life, her childhood was shaped by the unwavering sacrifices of her parents. Neither of them graduated high school, but her father still painted an idealized picture of student life: Students go to class and write a lot of notes. They have tutoring, play after-school sports, and do homework until they fall asleep.
While her hardworking parents juggled double shifts, young Silvia turned to learning as an escape, often mimicking her father’s description. “We’d go to Goodwill, and I’d get these obscure encyclopedias,” she laughs. “I’d read them, take notes, give myself tests, even use them as weights to do the kind of after-school exercise my dad described. I was pretty hardcore.”
That early love of learning bloomed when Silvia joined Rainier Scholars, which became a formative presence in her life, both academically and personally. The rigor of the Academic Enrichment Phase was intense, but she met it with determination and support. “I knew how much our teachers believed in us and thought we were capable,” Silvia says. “So, it was easy to believe that I could do it.”
Later, when life became harder outside the classroom, Rainier Scholars showed up in other ways, too. “In middle school and early high school, I struggled with my mental health and was diagnosed with depression. Then, my mom got cancer, which meant we lost our house. It was a really tough time, and my grades slipped,” Silvia shares. “Rainier Scholars helped get me a counselor and get my grades back on track. They were always checking in. If you’re from a working-class background and a student of color, at some point in your schooling, some external force will likely make it difficult for education to be your primary priority. That’s a common story, and I don’t know what my life would be like without Rainier Scholars.”
After high school, Silvia attended Kenyon College, where she majored in Sociology and American Studies with a concentration in race and education. She leaned into critical conversations and took on leadership roles in affinity groups and as the house manager of Kenyon’s feminist organization, Crozier Center for Women, transforming it into an inclusive destination. “A lot of people said turning a historically white, upper-class space into something that felt intersectional, and welcoming couldn’t be done,” Silvia explains. “But I put a lot of intentional effort into having programming, messaging, resources, and the space itself reflect marginalized feminine identities. I’m really proud of that.”
Silvia’s experience at Kenyon reinforced her passion for learning and helped her see education as a powerful tool for change. That calling led her to Brown University’s Master of Arts in Teaching — one of the few programs in the country grounded in a clear social justice mission. “I’ve loved education, and I’ve experienced education obstacles,” she explains. “But luckily, I had a program like Rainier Scholars that refused to normalize those barriers.”
Silvia views education as inherently revolutionary, naming figures like Angela Davis and Ida B. Wells, who were both educators and activists. She dreams of becoming a history teacher and building community schools that serve students and adults. “When people feel lost in times like these, I think history can be a blueprint. There are things we can do. Education is supposed to be empowering for youth, for teachers, and for the community.”
“I can’t describe in words how thankful I am for Rainier Scholars,” Silvia says. “The self-advocacy, organization, and time management skills I learned in fifth grade at Rainier Scholars, have been critical to my journey. Whatever success looks like for every scholar’s future, it comes from a village of counselors, teachers, staff and fellow students who really care. That kind of support changes lives.”