Immigrant Daughters in STEM Scholarship

My brother was a miracle baby- the pride of our family. He had been diagnosed with cancer at 11 months old, but exhibited no symptoms at all and was full of joy. At the beginning of Trevor's life, my dad decided to become the father he never had. He got clean, changed how he spoke, and most surprisingly, sought out family and community. Trevor brought such light and hope into our home- hope that even my mother hadn't seen before. After Trevor's death, that hope disappeared. My father acknowledged the comforting rituals involved in death, but with the loss of his son, he lost all direction. The house grew still and lifeless. Lacking the joy that Trevor brought into our lives, my dad would stay on the couch from the time I left for school until I got home. He would ask me questions like, "Do you think there really is a reason for the death of my son?" and talk to me for hours about the meaning of life. I, too, experienced the death of my brother, but instead of receiving comfort, I became his comfort- his rock, his primary confidant. With the tension and arguments, I had to be the stability in our home, addressing and mediating their arguments while also assuring my sister of safety and love, even though I myself lost hope. Everything around me reflected my mental position- my grades, my clothes, my room. Through the hardest academic year of high school, I was navigating grief, a broken household, and the weight of responsibilities a teenager should never have to carry. I've never been one to cry or confide in others, and it's not that I intended to open up, but that year broke me open. One day, I lost my sanity (literally) and spiraled into an episode of rage, saying what I had held in for months. It was rough and messy in the moment, but it forced us all to face what we were avoiding. My fit of rage was the beginning of the revival of my family. Junior year taught me about the ups and downs of life- that growth doesn't always come from peace, but it often comes from pain. I have experience in being the one to decide to make a change, learning to take initiative in finding balance in chaos. Being that my mother is an immigrant, I had two very different experiences in the death of my brother. While my Dad was discouraged and unpursued, people on my Mom's side of the family constantly visited without warning. It was her support system that warmed the house and provided for us when it was difficult for us to hold ourselves above what seemed to be drowning us. It was that community that lifted me when I couldn't uphold myself. Witnessing the way my community functions truly has shaped me into the person I am. Love is what inspires and influences me to make every decision that I make. Though I've always adored my mother's circle, it's only through hard times that one can fully appreciate the love that's always been there. That year grew my capacity to love, my understanding of people, and my experience of just how kind people can be. Even in my pursuit of neuroscience, my passion derives from my absolute love of the human race. I am young, but have been in many positions. To have felt the pain I have and received the love I have, I owe it to the world to be of service and to do it well.