天美麻豆

天美麻豆

Future of High School

With Bees, Drones & Ancient Technology, New Mexico Schools Engage Students to Save Precious Water for the Next Generation

This year, the Rio Grande ran dry in Albuquerque. The conservation techniques students are learning will be key to the region鈥檚 survival.

By Beth Hawkins | November 24, 2025

In May, a late spring snowstorm buried New Mexico鈥檚 Sangre de Cristo Mountains under three feet of fresh powder. On the heels of an alarmingly dry winter, it was welcome indeed.听

The snow melted quickly into the Rio Grande, coursing south from the high desert to Albuquerque.

There, the runoff 鈥斕齛nd the unusual weather that generated it 鈥 was of particular interest to students at a high school named for the river, located a stone鈥檚 throw to the east.

The Rio Grande depends on snowfall in Colorado and New Mexico to supply farms and communities along its arid, 2,000-mile path to the Gulf of Mexico. For hundreds of years, a complex set of customs 鈥 woven into the cultures of the Native American, Mexican American and Anglo people who live in this part of the Southwest 鈥 has governed how the precious water is divided up. 

Two years ago, Rio Grande High School adopted a focus on environmental sustainability and began teaching a novel blend of cutting-edge agricultural techniques and ancient land and water management practices.

The small farms that pepper the surrounding neighborhoods sustain many students鈥 families. Their livelihood depends on the health of the river. 

This year, the Rio Grande ran dry in Albuquerque, something scientists say is likely to happen more often as climate change disrupts the cycle that recharges the river.

The conservation techniques the students are learning will be key to the region鈥檚 survival.

This year, the Rio Grande ran dry in Albuquerque, something scientists say is likely to happen more often as climate change disrupts the cycle that recharges the river. The conservation techniques the students are learning will be key to the region鈥檚 survival.

Rio Grande High School students may choose from six environmental engineering college and career preparation tracks: agriculture; conservation, water and land management; culinary arts; teacher education, computer science and the judicial system. 

The goal is for some to earn FAA certifications to use drones to modernize tending their parents鈥 land, some to showcase their culinary training at the city鈥檚 farm-to-table restaurants and others to become land- and water-rights attorneys. 

Similar, but simpler, environmental engineering themes are woven into lessons at two nearby elementary schools and one middle school 鈥 each arrayed a handful of miles from the next, north to south along the river 鈥 that share the high school鈥檚 focus. The younger students grow their own crops and study orchardry, beekeeping, wildlife conservation, culinary arts and, of course, sustainable water use.

Albuquerque Public Schools had multiple reasons for creating this 鈥淪ustaining the Future鈥 enrollment pathway. In 2018, a state judge ruled in favor of a group of parents and school districts that had for failing to provide the 鈥渟ufficient and uniform鈥 education guaranteed by the state constitution. 

Among other things, state officials to give schools resources to ensure students are prepared for college and careers. The resulting programs had to be culturally and linguistically relevant. 

Albuquerque was in the process of opening magnet schools with enticing themes to meet the mandate when COVID-19 shuttered in-person learning. New Mexico schools stayed closed for almost two full years 鈥 much longer than most. Since reopening, the Albuquerque district has faced the same challenges as other school systems 鈥 but on steroids.  

In 2020, the district enrolled 79,000 students. Last year, its 142 schools served about 66,000, and one-third of them were absent for 10% or more of the school year 鈥 a threshold where poor outcomes become much more likely. Statewide, 119% between 2019 and 2023. 

The goal of the principals who lead the four agriculture-focused schools is to increase attendance by engaging the 2,500 students and their parents. Each school has woven the importance of local ecosystems into everything from social studies instruction to family pizza parties. 

There are early signs the strategy is working. The high school鈥檚 chronic absenteeism rate has fallen from 51% in the 2021-22 academic year to 40% last year. 

鈥淚t鈥檚 not like some random thing our kids have to buy into,鈥 says Rio Grande Principal Antoinette Valenzuela. 鈥淟ots of their families farm.鈥 

At first glance, Rio Grande High School appears to be surrounded by dust and scrub. But below the brush, the adjoining land is home to a submerged, complex ecosystem 鈥 one so rich that when Albuquerque Public Schools decided to create an environmental engineering program, Rio Grande was the obvious site.

Its agriculture focus would have a natural appeal to teens who live nearby, working on farms. And its grounds had the potential for living laboratories.  

At Rio Grande High School, acequias supply ponds where fish and vegetation clean the water before returning it to an underground aquifer. (Beth Hawkins/The 74)

The school is just west of the river, which bisects the city from north to south. On either side, the Rio Grande is flanked by a cottonwood forest that鈥檚 visible for miles, vivid green much of the year and bright yellow in the fall. Known as the Bosque, the oasis sustains hundreds of animal species, many found nowhere else. 

Rio Grande High School itself sits alongside a network of ancient irrigation ditches that channel water to the neighborhood鈥檚 small farms, and across the street from a field that is used both for grazing livestock and as a sanctuary for sandhill cranes and other migratory birds. 

Behind the school鈥檚 parking lot are two weedy ponds, one owned by Albuquerque Public Schools and another that doubles as a city park. They fulfill multiple functions, serving as basins to catch floodwaters when the river overflows, to collect water left over from irrigating crops and to funnel what鈥檚 left into the aquifer that supplies the city. 

The Spanish word for ditch is acequia. Since the 1600s, hundreds of acequias that crisscross New Mexico have served as a central element to everything from state governance to an ethos that natural resources are to be used for the common good. 

Left: Women collecting water from the acequia, in the pueblo of San Juan, San Juan County, New Mexico, circa 1885. (Getty) Right: New Mexico farmer opening gate that allows water to flow into field from irrigation ditch, 1936. (Arthur Rothstein for Farm Security Administration)

When the conquistadores arrived in the Southwest desert, they found the indigenous Pueblo people were using a water conservation system that was much like the one used in arid Spain, but managing it communally. As the area鈥檚 inhabitants sought to preserve their cultural identity in the face of takeovers 鈥 by first Spain, then Mexico and finally the United States 鈥 the customs involved in sharing acequias became as important as the water itself.  

Today, local councils still oversee some 800 state-recognized acequias. There is a sense of how interdependent neighbors are on one another鈥檚 willingness to take just enough water to sustain a crop 鈥 and to leave enough to recharge the underground reservoirs that are needed for dry years. 

Rio Grande High School serves a student population that is 98% Latino and 100% impoverished. More than a quarter receive special education services, and 41% are learning English.

Each of these socioeconomic factors increases the risk that a student will not be served adequately at school. Put them all together, and Rio Grande鈥檚 educators face compounded challenges.

Rio Grande High School Principal Antoinette Valenzuela and agriculture teacher Angie 圈ngstr枚m. (Beth Hawkins, The 74)

When Valenzuela became principal six years ago, the school did not have a science department. Students had to take classes online. Last year, 130 students took an introduction to agriculture class in five sections. This year, the school is adding horticulture and botany. 

Now, with encouragement from both the state and district 鈥 and with a $13 million federal grant 鈥 the school is fleshing out its offerings. Students who take two courses in a particular pathway will graduate with a 鈥渃oncentration鈥 designation. Those who pass three or more will be deemed 鈥渃ompletors.鈥 Ideally, each track will soon offer opportunities for internships and industry-recognized career credentials. 

Among other things, computer science students will learn to operate unmanned vehicles and design automated systems for caring for plants 鈥 including hydroponic gardens, 鈥渧ertical鈥 farms and systems for growing algae, which, as it happens, produces 50% of the Earth鈥檚 oxygen.  

When Valenzuela became principal six years ago, the school did not have a science department. Students had to take classes online. Last year, 130 students took an introduction to agriculture class in five sections. This year, the school is adding horticulture and botany. 

Culinary arts students can anticipate paid 鈥渇arm-to-table鈥 internships and mentoring through the New Mexico Restaurant Association鈥檚 . Aspiring educators are already enjoying internships at Rio Grande鈥檚 three feeder schools, where they are helping to run elementary makerspace classrooms, tend gardens and care for the nearby acequias

Next year, 11th and 12th graders will be able to earn internship hours and class credit simultaneously by working on the farm at Polk Middle School. 

Themes of environmental sustainability are on display throughout the high school (Beth Hawkins, The 74)

Judicial system track students will learn about water and land rights, a high-demand specialty in the state鈥檚 legal sector. A seventh sequence of courses focuses on the military and national security, which play an important role in New Mexico鈥檚 economy. 

Classes on natural resources and environmental sciences are under development, as are dual-credit courses taught in conjunction with local colleges and universities that have specialized agricultural training programs. School leaders hope students will soon be able to attend aquaponics classes at Santa Fe Community College and study sustainable practices at Central New Mexico Community College, for example.  

Aquaponics system at Santa Fe Community College (Photo courtesy of R.C. Shultz, SFCC)

Situated at a lower elevation than the river and very close to the water table, the land surrounding the high school offers numerous real-life laboratories for students. As water comes into the acequias just east of the school, it is channeled into Rio Grande鈥檚 agricultural fields and then on to the adjacent ponds.

Pollution 鈥 a persistent problem in the city鈥檚 low-income South Valley area 鈥 gravitates to low points. Water from the river arrives dirty from its trip through downtown and the northern part of the city. Last year, students used clay and colored powders to make scale-model watersheds and track where the pollution goes. 

Teens work in teams as mock companies, testing water and soil samples donated by neighborhood farmers, who have been thrilled by the service. They analyze each sample, write a report on the analysis and suggest steps for the client to take.  

“These students are amazing and hardworking and compassionate. They are bringing these spaces back to life.鈥

Antoinette Valenzuela, Rio Grande principal

鈥淚鈥檝e enjoyed seeing how close our community is,鈥 says Valenzuela. 鈥淚鈥檝e noticed a huge shift in responsiveness in terms of how this is impacting the community.鈥  

Students also learn how people gauged the water鈥檚 health for hundreds of years, before the advent of chemical analyses. To keep it from picking up more pollutants, high school students clean the neighborhood acequias that irrigate their crops. 

The ponds that catch the runoff are populated by plants, fish and invertebrates, which filter and clean the water. The vitality of these creatures, students learn as they experiment, is as accurate a predictor of the water鈥檚 health as a chemical test. 

“These students are amazing and hardworking and compassionate,鈥 says Valenzuela. 鈥淭hey are bringing these spaces back to life.鈥 

In May, as snow was falling 150 miles to the north, fourth graders at Mountain View Elementary got a visit from a local TV meteorologist who talked about the unusual weather and its implications for the adjacent acequia, the school鈥檚 fledgling garden and 鈥 a popular topic of study among its pupils 鈥 bees.

For decades, it was unheard-of for the river to run dry as it flows through Albuquerque, thanks to relatively predictable spring snowmelt to the north and summer monsoons. In recent years, however, New Mexico鈥檚 weather has swung between very wet years 鈥 when the acequias and ponds like the ones behind the high school become vital to flood control 鈥 and very dry ones. 

Wild weather swings are bad for bees, endangering their nesting areas and food sources. At the same time, bees play in combating climate change by ensuring biodiversity in plant systems.

Pupils at Mountain View Elementary learn about tornado safety.  (Beth Hawkins, The 74)

The bees鈥 work is on view in Mountain View鈥檚 outdoor spaces, carrying pollen from one student-planted flower to another and making honey and wax, which are excellent materials for all manner of hands-on classroom projects. 

The weekend of the snowstorm, the school staged a spring fiesta for its families 鈥 a New Mexico tradition. The star attraction: 75 voracious goats, rented to clear a field of brush and invasive species to make way for an apiary, among other things. While the goats laid waste to the vegetation, the humans enjoyed pizza. 

Other bee-centric lessons Mountain View pupils have enjoyed: making beeswax-infused wraps for food storage; how to use artificial intelligence responsibly in researching pollination; and what third graders planning a lesson on bees for kindergartners should know about helping squirmy younger kids settle into a conversation about all the ways in which people, plants and animals rely on bees. 

During a recent lesson-planning session, the third graders tossed out ideas for helping kindergarteners wiggle less. The teacher repeated a winning suggestion: 鈥淲e could show them our breathing technique to help them calm down.鈥

Principal Kathryn Ramsey is happy enough to have her 233 pupils learning about plants and pollinators. But she鈥檚 thrilled by how well the school鈥檚 environmental focus serves as the linchpin for engaging parents. 

Sunflowers and the bees that pollinate them are popular at Mountain View Elementary. (Beth Hawkins, The 74)

Mountain View is located some 4 miles to the south of the high school, on the river’s east side  in a portion of the South Valley that, until recently, was overwhelmingly industrial and poor. It is prone to temperature inversions 鈥 layers of warm air that trap pollution. 

McMansions are going up now, but before gentrification started, the area was home mostly to aging trailers, the state鈥檚 largest homeless shelter and a facility housing immigrant newcomers. Nearly all students come from impoverished households, and more than a third are learning English. 

In short, conventional wisdom would predict high rates of chronic absenteeism and low levels of family involvement at Mountain View. Yet, last year, the school鈥檚 consistent attendance rate ticked up from 88% to 90%. In the hope of closing out the 2024-25 academic year with a rate of 92%, on spring Fridays, Ramsey handed out doughnuts in the parking lot during dropoff.

In to state lawmakers, researchers cited family disengagement, lack of student motivation and parents prioritizing things over school as three top reasons for chronic absenteeism. 

Missing 10% of the school year 鈥 in Albuquerque, more than 18 days 鈥 has a profound and lasting impact. Students who don鈥檛 show up consistently in third grade are 14% less likely than their classmates to read and do math at grade level and 12% to 18% less likely to graduate high school. 

The year before the pandemic, New Mexico lawmakers overhauled the state鈥檚 antiquated attendance law, moving away from a punitive system that focused on truancy 鈥 defined as unexcused absences 鈥 to one taking into account the range of reasons why kids may not go to school. But the state has sent scant guidance on implementing the new policies. 

In addition to the goats, Ramsey has employed a number of ways of using the school鈥檚 theme to get parents into the building. She has a family engagement liaison, who is a fixture in the neighborhood and its shelters and who takes careful notes on parents鈥 own experience 鈥 or lack thereof 鈥 with formal education.  

In place of conventional curriculum nights, Ramsey offers activities. The Explora Science Center and Children鈥檚 Museum of Albuquerque has been a valuable partner, planning game-like STEM activities for math night and providing buses to bring families on evening field trips. 

Last year, literacy night was focused on the book 鈥淭he Wild Robot,鈥 which the entire school read. In the story, robots are marooned on an island and learn to live amid wildlife. Families watched the movie of the same name and then figured out how to light bonfires, a skill that was key to the robots鈥 survival. 

“Last year was our 鈥榖ring families back鈥 year. This year is about how we get families involved in learning again.鈥 

Kathryn Ramsey, principal, Mountain View Elementary

The school is a member of the neighborhood association, which last year was invited to help Bernalillo County plan a new park. The school, in turn, asked county representatives to come present to its families. 

Then, each class came up with a proposal, which students presented to officials. One class suggested ziplines, which are being incorporated into the park design. 

鈥淚 think a lot about how families understand this focus,鈥 Ramsey says. 鈥淟ast year was our 鈥榖ring families back鈥 year. This year is about how we get families involved in learning again.鈥 

If the Rio Grande is the spine of Albuquerque Public Schools鈥 effort to engage kids with environmental engineering, Polk Middle School’s Travis McKenzie is its beating heart.

Perhaps best described as a food justice activist disguised as a seventh grade social studies teacher, McKenzie makes sure visitors to Polk Middle School understand that the acequias are as central to New Mexico鈥檚 history as they are to the environment. The irrigation systems, he says, aren鈥檛 just ecologically sustainable 鈥 they鈥檙e . 

The school is located on Los Padillas acequia, which bisects a city street that once was the Camino Real 鈥 the Spanish conquistadores鈥 trade route stretching north from Mexico City into what eventually became the southwestern United States. 

But because it hadn鈥檛 used its allotment for 50 years, Polk lost the legal right to participate in the local water system. Last spring, after an epic quest, McKenzie resecured Polk鈥檚 right to use a share of the water to irrigate its 20-acre farm, home to agricultural fields, 150 fruit trees and three hoophouses 鈥 translucent tents that shield seedlings and fragile plants from the elements. 

Students can now open a sluice to let water onto the grounds when the acequias are full, just as those whose families farm have done for generations. McKenzie wants them to know that when they do, they are taking responsibility for making sure there is enough water for the entire community. 

Children ceremonially open an acequia鈥檚 gate to allow irrigation. ()

To that end, he is part of an effort by a local nonprofit to for teaching about the acequias and the associated ethos of mutualismo, or communal responsibility, as well as a network of teachers using it. Everyone who draws water from an acequia is a parciante, a status that comes with obligations not just to one鈥檚 neighbors, but to the environment.

鈥淚f you think about New Mexico, we鈥檝e been culturally sustainable for a long time,鈥 says McKenzie. 鈥淲e already have social capital around stewardship.鈥

At Polk Middle School, students learn the difference between aquaponics and hydroponics. Outside, they grow food for the community in the Jardin de los Suenos 鈥 or Garden of Dreams.  (Beth Hawkins, The 74)

In addition to fields and hoophouses, Polk has an heirloom seed library, indoor aquaponics tanks that use waste from fish to nurture plants and a traditional Pueblo Indian horno, or outdoor adobe oven. One of the hoophouses is accessible to students with disabilities.

There is a mural of National Farm Workers Association co-founder Dolores Huerta and another of Don Joaquin Lujan, famous locally for giving away food he grows to numerous communities, including “downwinders鈥 鈥 people who live in parts of the state where atomic bomb testing left the land dead. 

Following in Lujan鈥檚 footsteps, Polk students give away much of their bounty. Last year, young gardeners and culinary arts students harvested and processed more than 20 pounds of lettuce and vegetables for a Mother鈥檚 Day celebration at the local community center. 

Alongside bees, corn and chiles, sustainable agriculture activist Don Joaquin Lujan is remembered in a vivid mosaic. (Beth Hawkins, The 74)

On the mural, Lujan is surrounded by ceramic bees, butterflies, corn and chiles. Above his head is a rainbow mosaic offering a colloquialism McKenzie repeats often to students. Just as the word acequia can refer either to the ditch itself or to the local organization that shares responsibility for its care, the phrase works on several levels. 

El quien pone, saca.  

Saca is a name for the time when, anticipating temporary abundance, neighbors come together to clean their acequia. So, He who participates, helps dig out. 

But also, on a more basic, literal level: He who sows, reaps.

Los Padillas Elementary is surrounded by the Bosque 鈥 a forest that stretches along both sides of the Rio Grande as it transverses central New Mexico. Because their roots need an underground water source to tap, cottonwoods have flourished here for more than a million years.

The trees flower in the spring, sprouting seeds attached to fluffy tufts that travel long distances on the wind just as annual rains cause the river to overflow. The new trees that sprout while the ground is muddied by the floodwaters provide a critical habitat for hundreds of species of birds, mammals, insects and aquatic creatures. Many are found nowhere else; some are endangered.

Mountain View has its bees, but Los Padillas has a full-fledged wildlife sanctuary. Just as district leaders realized Rio Grande High School鈥檚 fields of scrub could function as living laboratories, the elementary school鈥檚 leaders recognized that adjacent district-owned land might be unused by humans, but was a critical stop for sandhill cranes and other migratory birds. 

It’s also the year-round home to a wetland, with snapping turtles, owls, lizards, frogs, roadrunners and an outdoor 鈥渃ottonwood classroom,鈥 complete with a weatherproof whiteboard and rows of tree-stump stools. 

At Los Padillas Elementary, classes meet outdoors under cottonwood trees, part of the Rio Grande鈥檚 Bosque that surrounds the school. (Steven Henley/Albuquerque Public Schools)
Students learn to gauge the health of the waterways that connect the environmental sustainability schools by assessing the health of the flora and fauna that live there. (Steven Henley/Albuquerque Public Schools)

Other district schools use the sanctuary for field trips. With the help of a dedicated naturalist, Los Padillas鈥 students maintain it. Two years ago, when the school adopted its “Sustaining the Future” focus, students cleared brush and built trails, which they clean twice a year.

Kids who were in fourth grade at the time cleaned the pond 鈥 a task they stuck with as fifth graders. This year鈥檚 project: planting peach, cherry and crabapple orchards. 

With the help of Rio Grande High School students, last year Los Padillas’ second graders took over garden beds that supply ingredients to the district鈥檚 culinary arts programs.

Did you use this article in your work?

We鈥檇 love to hear how The 74鈥檚 reporting is helping educators, researchers, and policymakers.

Republish This Article

We want our stories to be shared as widely as possible 鈥 for free.

Please view The 74's republishing terms.





On The 74 Today