Nicola Martinez-Collins

In the High Desert

In the high desert stretch between Gallup and Grants, New Mexico, the land holds the stories of miners, veterans, ranchers, silversmiths, and families who have endured generations of change and trauma. It is a place where traditions run deep, where expectations are passed down, and where women like me were never expected to wear a badge.

But I did.

Growing Up in the Borderland

Growing up in that rural borderland, I didn’t see anyone in law enforcement who looked like me or believed in what I believed. The only example I had was my grandfather, a Vietnam veteran and investigator with the Bureau of Indian Affairs. His quiet strength shaped my first understanding of service. My father, an Army veteran, construction worker, and silversmith, built his own legacy fighting for the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act, helping bring justice to families harmed by uranium exposure.

The Martinez name carried weight, but no woman in my family had ever stepped into law enforcement. I decided I would be the first.

As a kid, I was the one who liked animals more than dolls, the one who wanted to do the hard things, the one who pushed against every boundary set for me. So when I told my parents I wanted to become a police officer, the reaction was immediate: “That’s not for you. Pick something else. Choose a different life.”

But bending has never been in my nature.

Stepping Into a World With No Roadmap

At twenty years old, I filled out the application that changed everything. I stepped into a world with no roadmap, no mentor, and no guarantee I would be accepted. What I did have was heart, determination, and a willingness to learn what others avoided.

Early in my career, I noticed something that bothered me: many officers didn’t understand lawsuits, administrative investigations, or internal processes. These were topics people feared, avoided, or brushed off with, “That’s how we’ve always done it.” I refused to accept that.

When the Internal Affairs position opened, I was the only person in the department who submitted a letter of interest. People warned me the job was lonely, that others wouldn’t like me, and that Internal Affairs was where careers went to stall. I took it anyway.

Six years later, I had transformed the role. I broke down processes that once terrified officers. I taught them their rights. I built trust where fear had lived for decades. And in doing so, I helped reduce lawsuits, strengthen cooperation, and create a culture where transparency wasn’t a threat—it was a tool. Knowledge kills fear, and fear, left unchecked, can destroy a department from the inside.

Modernizing the Gallup Police Department

My work didn’t stop at investigations. I modernized the Gallup Police Department in ways that will outlast my career. I digitized outdated systems, helped rewrite standard operating procedures, and secured grants—from COVID-era funding to new technology, including a virtual reality use-of-force simulator that now shapes officer training.

I also pushed for public transparency, compiling statistical data and sharing it openly with our community. I built our social media presence from scratch, turning it into a platform that informs, educates, and connects—one that now reaches more people than ever before. My goal was not just to update the department, but to rebuild trust.

Community Work

Community work became one of the most defining parts of my career. I partnered with nonprofits, strengthened long-standing programs like Shop With Our Heroes, and created new outreach efforts that reached families who had never interacted with law enforcement in a positive way. My reputation grew so strong that when local partners were asked who they trusted with donations for food baskets, my name was the one recommended to the Chief of Police.

That trust became responsibility, and responsibility became impact.

Under my leadership, the Shop With Our Heroes team raised over $20,000 in direct funding and thousands more in in-kind services in 2025 to support local children. I expanded the program to include the fire department, EMS volunteers, and nonprofits, turning it into a community-wide effort. I also helped build and expand our internship program, opening doors for high school students and giving them a chance to see policing from the inside.

My passion for youth engagement led me into STEM programs through the Gallup Boys & Girls Club. I brought law enforcement into spaces where young people could ask questions, explore technology, and see themselves reflected in careers they once thought were out of reach. I became the kind of role model I never had—a woman in uniform, a leader in my community, a bridge between generations.

Every Challenge Showed Me What I’m Capable Of

None of this came easily. I faced resistance, setbacks, failures, and more than a few naysayers. Some doubted my projects. Others doubted my leadership. Many doubted my ability to change a department that had operated the same way for decades. But I kept going. Every challenge showed me what I’m capable of. Every “no” pushed me to find a better “yes.”

Today, I stand as one of the most influential women in rural New Mexico law enforcement—not because I sought recognition, but because I sought solutions.

When people ask what I’m most proud of, I don’t list the grants I secured, the programs I built, or the systems I modernized. I talk about the people: the officers who now understand their rights, the youth who see a future in policing, and the families who trust us again.

Being in law enforcement is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I am grateful for every challenge, every lesson, every moment. They taught me what I can do—not just as an officer, not just as a woman in law enforcement, but as a member of my community.

In a world where policing is often defined by division, I’ve learned that leadership can look like compassion, courage, and a willingness to do the hard things. Sometimes, all it takes to change a community is a little heart and the will to keep doing the hard things. I am building my legacy in hopes that my child will have the foundation to carry our family into a new chapter.