Finding Hope in the Moon: A Conversation with Rose Ferreira
From the Dominican Republic to NASA, Rose Ferreira’s Journey to the Stars
Rose Ferreira’s story is one of resilience, determination, and an unshakable love for space. Born and raised in the Dominican Republic, she grew up in a place where science education wasn’t really a thing, and expectations for girls were pretty traditional. But despite that, she never stopped looking up—finding comfort in the moon during the island’s frequent blackouts and developing an endless curiosity about the universe.
Her path to STEM wasn’t a straight line. After immigrating to the U.S., she faced homelessness, domestic and sexual abuse, and a system that didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat. But through sheer determination, she worked her way into space exploration, landing multiple NASA internships and eventually a job at the agency.
Then, in early February of 2025, her NASA bio was quietly removed from the agency’s website. It was part of a broader effort by the Trump administration to erase Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives from federal agencies. Her removal wasn’t just personal—it was part of a larger pattern of erasing the contributions of underrepresented individuals in STEM.
When she spoke out about it on Threads, the response was overwhelming. Some people rallied behind her, but others twisted the situation to push their own agendas—often without even talking to her. Through it all, she found herself in an unexpected position: a scientist and engineer who had to fight just to tell her own story.
Most recently, on February 26, 2025, Rose was fired. While she has not shared full details of the circumstances, she has expressed frustration over the experience, particularly how highly qualified women are often dismissed or spoken down to in professional settings. Despite this setback, she remains hopeful that she will return to NASA under better leadership in the future.
In this interview, conducted before her termination, Rose talks about her journey, the challenges she’s faced, and why she’s not letting anyone else define her future.
Q&A with Rose Ferreira
Your article about your NASA internship was removed from their website, and after you posted about it on Threads, it was restored. How did that feel, and what was the response like?
I was contacted by someone and told about the removal of the bio. I was actually battling pneumonia at the time, so I don’t think it sank in right away. My immediate reaction was sadness because I knew it was the result of the current administration, and I know that I represent a lot of things they want to remove.
I cried a little because it felt like a slap in the face. But unlike many assumed, I did not blame NASA. There were a lot of internal things happening that the public didn’t understand.
As for the response—truth is, the story moved faster than I could keep up with, especially since I was trying to recover. Before I knew it, people were out there creating narratives about me without speaking to me at all. It’s like I lost my voice in my own story.
What inspired your love for space and engineering?
It all started back on my island in the Caribbean. I was raised in a place where science education wasn’t a thing. My upbringing was extremely religious, and I was heavily taught that my goal in life should be to find and keep a husband.
But I was never the quiet, obedient type. I questioned everything, which got me in trouble a lot. My escape was looking up at the sky. I didn’t know what I was looking at, and no one around me had answers—but I wanted to know. That curiosity never left me.
Astronomy was my first love, but engineering became a natural part of my journey because I wanted to be part of the missions, not just study them.
You’ve said that the moon gave you hope. Can you share more about that?
Back home, we had a lot of blackouts. Some nights, the moon was the only light I had. It made me wonder what else was out there.
When I got to the U.S., I was homeless, battling abuse, and had no guidance. But I could work, and I did—any job I could find, because I knew somehow, I’d make my way to science.
While I was homeless, there were times I almost didn’t make it. But looking at the moon reminded me of the younger me, back on the island, staring up at the same sky. And somehow, that kept me going.
What’s the biggest lesson you learned from your NASA internships?
To never underestimate myself again. I worked my way into those opportunities—I made it happen.
The experiences were amazing, but they don’t mean much if you don’t advocate for yourself. After that, working at NASA just felt like the next step.
As a Latina in STEM, what unique challenges have you faced?
Being Latina, people assume a lot about you. I refused to take help because I knew the stereotypes about immigrants, so I worked myself sick putting myself through university.
Another hard part? Realizing that “women supporting women” is often just a hashtag. If you don’t fit the bubbly mold or go along with everything, you don’t get invited into the cliques. You’re not “nice” enough.
At first, that hurt. But then I embraced it. Someone once called me the Wednesday Addams of STEM, and honestly, I love that now.
What would you change about how women of color are treated in STEM?
I just want us to be treated with dignity, to be taken seriously, and for our talents to be respected. We shouldn’t have to prove ourselves so much.
What advice would you give young girls who want to work in space exploration?
You will face discouragement. But whatever you do, don’t give up. You’re worth it.
I teach third grade, and my students love space. What advice would you give them about staying curious?
Never stop being curious! I know that sounds cliché, but believe me—it’s easy to lose that part of you as you get older. Science is fun. It gets hard, but that’s okay.
How do you hope sharing your story will inspire others?
I hope it helps others be as hard-headed as I am—to go after their goals without apologizing.
What’s next for you?
I want to be an astronaut, so I’m doing analog astronaut training and enjoying the journey—even if I never make it to space.
I also want to write a book—my story, not some sugar-coated version someone else wants to tell.
And career-wise? I’d love to stay at NASA for a decade. But with the current administration, I don’t know if I’ll have a say in that. Either way, I know I’ll be doing something I love.
If you could send a message to your younger self, what would you say?
I’d tell her that I love her, that everything she thought was “wrong” with her is what got her here. And I’d thank her for being a Malcriada—a word people in my country use for girls who don’t obey. I got called that a lot.
If you could go to the moon tomorrow but could only bring three things, what would they be?
1. A picture of my son—because I love him with all my heart.
2. A drive with recorded dreams from kids in my country—so my whole island reaches the stars.
3. A letter signed by the people I love—those who have helped me become a better person.
Final Thoughts
Rose’s journey is a reminder that the road to STEM isn’t always straightforward—and that’s okay. She’s proof that resilience, curiosity, and a little bit of stubbornness can take you far. Whether she makes it to space or not, she’s already made an impact. And something tells us she’s just getting started.
Written by Andrew Hall @ SheDidtheMath.org
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