Nebustream Technology Development Scholarship

I thought I had conquered my fear of math. By senior year, I was fulfilling a dream my six-year-old self had held onto: acing an advanced math class without the weight of pressure, proving I could overcome my fears.It hadn’t always been this way. My irrational fear of math began in second grade. No matter how hard I tried, my understanding never matched my teacher’s explanations, leaving me frustrated and discouraged. My mother arranged for a tutor, and with guidance, I gradually built confidence. By middle school, math had become enjoyable, and high school algebra and pre-calculus felt like second nature. I believed I had finally overcome my fear.Then senior year arrived. Encouraged by my counselor and past success, I registered for AP Calculus AB. I was ready for a challenge or so I thought. The first test shattered that confidence. From the first problem, my old fears resurfaced. I completed the exam, hoping for the best. Two weeks later, I stared in disbelief at a dark blue F in my digital gradebook. My meticulously maintained record had never suffered such a blow.I was devastated, and my parents were concerned. My teacher, new to the school, had no system to help students improve, leaving me to figure out how to recover on my own. Initially, I tried to study alone, pouring hours into practice problems, but my grades didn’t improve. Panic set in. After my second failed exam, I silenced my stubborn “I can do it alone” voice and returned to tutoring. Step by step, I relearned the concepts, rebuilt my confidence, and finally saw my efforts pay off. This experience taught me that even 100% effort does not guarantee success. I learned to give myself grace, persevere, and seek help when needed as a sign of strength, not weakness. I discovered that setbacks do not define my abilities, and determination can carry me through challenges I once thought were not achievable. By the end of the year, I had not only improved my grade but also reclaimed my confidence and love for math. I realized that new challenges will always arise, but the lessons I’ve learned about resilience, humility, and perseverance will keep me grounded and prepared to pursue my goals. As I continue to learn about the world of computer science, I take my lessons and struggle with me. I know the road to achieving my goal of becoming a cybersecurity analyst won’t be easy, but nothing worth fighting for ever is. While the troubles of academia will not be something I can outrun while in college, knowing how to persevere in the face of challenge will help guide me through my next four years as a student.

A big point in my computer science education where I felt like I hit a wall was when I first went into the field. Computers have always been an interest for me, how they work and how they execute tasks beyond just the components. I took an intro to programming class in my freshman year of highschool because I wanted to get into it. I had planned to continue with classes and in extracurriculars but some things led to another and I had to drop everything and move to a different state. Now in California I wanted to continue down this path but there were no options for me at this point, no related classes, I didn't even have the opportunity to take AP Computer Science or AP Computer Science Principles like I would have where I used to live. This discouraged me and for the rest of highschool I did nothing with that passion. Once I had to pick my major for college, I had nothing I wanted to do so I decided on computer science. From that point on I realized that in my classes, everyone already had previous experiences. Many of my classmates were already far ahead of me and that put me in a spot where I knew I was the worst student in those classes. They discouraged me as I knew nothing, I couldn't get the hang of things once we moved past the introduction and I still am trying to find my way of learning it. But I hit a wall where I believed I wasn't cut out for it, I wanted to change majors. But I put more effort into it, and instead of letting the fact that everyone was so much better than me bring me down, I used it to decide that I could get to their level if I tried. I stuck with it and studied on my own and I barely passed the class with a B. The next few semesters went the same way. I recognize my ability to code is worse than the average student but i still pushed on and did my best, and though many times things didn't work, or my programs were running slower than everyone elses, I did this with no prior experience. Though many people dropped the classes I stayed though them, I tried to compare myself to my classmates and I try to improve myself to match them. Especially when we worked in groups, I did my best as to not be the weakest link. Or even if I was, I saw things through. It was hard and tiring and despite still not being the best programmer in the room, I was proud to say that I stuck it out, instead of being part of that crowd of people who dropped the classes, I was someone who made it to the end. It helped me realize that maybe software development wouldn't be my path, but instead I realize other passions and interest. even though many of my current and future classes still require coding I'm still pushing through and hoping to make it into Cybersecurity instead. I had no real drive other than the fact that, I could do better, and that I couldn't fail since my friends and family were cheering me on. But that was all I need.

Success is often viewed as a straight line, but my path has been defined by the moments that line was interrupted. As a multi-racial Black and Filipino student from a low-income background in California, I grew up in an environment where resources were thin and technology was often outdated. For me, failure wasn't a single event; it was a constant environmental pressure that I had to refuse to let define me. The most significant "wall" I hit was the gap between my ambitions in game development and the tools I had to achieve them. For years, I attempted to learn complex software logic on hardware that couldn't handle the processing power. I remember working on a specific combat system where the code was technically sound, but the execution failed repeatedly because my equipment couldn't keep up. It would have been easy to walk away and assume that a career in tech was reserved for those with the best gear and high-end tutors. Instead of quitting, I became resourceful. I spent my time studying algorithmic efficiency and Luau scripting in theory, making sure my logic was so clean it could run on anything. I took on responsibilities at home and saved every resource I had. At 15, after months of discipline, I made my first "big purchase"a gaming laptop. This wasn't just a luxury; it was my refusal to let a lack of resources be the reason I failed. This taught me that while I cannot always control the hardware I am given, I can always control the effort I put into mastering the software of my life. This "never give up" mindset is the core of my interest in Computer Science. In programming, failure is a daily occurrence it’s called debugging. Whether I am troubleshooting sprite overlaps in a combat game or refining the logic of my "Restaurant Randomizer" project, I view every error message not as a stop sign, but as a puzzle. I have learned to embrace the frustration of a broken script, knowing that the most elegant solutions are often found only after the tenth or twentieth failed attempt. If I am awarded this scholarship, I will bring that same determination to my college education. Financial barriers have the potential to be a wall, but I am committed to scaling them. By easing the weight of tuition, this support allows me to focus entirely on technical excellence. I plan to enter the tech industry as a developer who doesn't just write code, but who understands that persistence is the most important tool in any programmer's kit. Ultimately, I aim to use my skills to build inclusive digital spaces, proving that a background of limited means can still produce a future of unlimited potential.