When I was diagnosed with dyscalculia—a learning difference that makes understanding numbers and math concepts significantly harder—I feared it would disqualify me from my dream of becoming an engineer. In a world that often equates mathematical fluency with scientific capability, I began to question whether I belonged in science at all. But science, at its core, is not about speed or perfection—it’s about curiosity, persistence, and problem-solving. And that’s where creative thinking gave me a new path forward. During my sophomore year of high school, I struggled in my engineering class while trying to grasp fundamental math principles. Traditional methods didn’t work for me, so I started building my own tools to learn—hands-on models, color-coded diagrams, and mnemonic-based learning techniques. Eventually, I wasn’t just learning for myself—I started sharing these tools with others. That’s how my nonprofit, Grow with STEM, was born. At first, it was just me and a few elementary school students in my neighborhood. I showed them how to build light-up bracelets using simple circuitry and how to understand electricity by acting out the flow of electrons. Over time, the program grew. Today, we’ve reached over 1,000 children, many of whom have learning differences or come from underserved backgrounds. We’ve built no-code glitter bombs inspired by Mark Rober, worked with Girl Scouts to explore breadboards, and even partnered with science museums and college engineering programs. The goal is simple: make science exciting, accessible, and inclusive. The challenge I faced—learning math with dyscalculia—was basic, but deeply personal. The solution wasn’t found in a textbook; it came through creative thinking and a scientific mindset. I didn’t need to be like every other student—I needed to think differently. And that difference became my greatest asset. Pursuing a degree in electrical engineering will allow me to continue merging innovation with empathy. I’m especially interested in sustainable energy systems, including solar technology and nuclear fusion. I recently completed a fully functional dual-axis solar tracker that increases solar panel efficiency by following the sun throughout the day. The design was inspired by a problem I noticed in my wooded neighborhood, where fixed solar panels received inconsistent sunlight. My prototype earned 3rd place at the Massachusetts SkillsUSA State Conference in Principles of Engineering Technology, a moment that affirmed my ability to overcome my learning challenges and succeed as a young engineer. Society benefits when people who have faced barriers use their lived experience to design better systems. I want to work on technologies that not only solve engineering challenges but do so in a way that includes more people—people with learning differences, from low-income backgrounds, or from communities without access to quality STEM education. Because science should be for everyone. Dr. Aggarwal believed that good, safe scientific advancements are the key to making the world a better place. I carry that same belief. I’ve seen firsthand how powerful science becomes when it’s paired with compassion and creativity. I want to spend my life not just building the future—but opening doors so more people can help shape it. Receiving this scholarship would help me continue that mission. As a low-income student, financial aid is essential for me to afford college and pursue the education I need to turn ideas into innovations. I am ready to light the way forward—not just for myself, but for everyone who’s ever been told they don’t belong in science.

Throughout my life, I have sought to bridge the gap between STEM education and community engagement. My journey toward higher education has been shaped by challenges, accomplishments, and a deep-rooted passion for engineering and its ability to transform lives. As someone who once struggled with dyscalculia, a learning difference that makes understanding numbers and math difficult, I have faced unique challenges in pursuing my interest in engineering. However, this difficulty has only fueled my determination to succeed and has taught me the value of perseverance, creative problem-solving, and mentorship. Founding the Grow with STEM initiative has been one of my most meaningful accomplishments. Through this program, I developed and taught hands-on STEM lessons to over 1,000 children, covering topics such as nuclear energy, circuit building, and hydraulics. One of my favorite experiences was leading workshops at a statewide Girl Scout conference, where I saw young girls’ faces light up as they built their first working circuits. Moments like these reaffirm my belief in the transformative power of STEM education and my desire to make engineering more inclusive and accessible to underrepresented communities. In college, I plan to major in electrical engineering because of its versatility and potential to address critical issues like clean energy and sustainable infrastructure. My vision is to combine my natural business mindset with my engineering skills to start my own engineering company focused on energy and transportation. This company will not only address real-world challenges but also offer summer internship opportunities for children with an array of disabilities, ensuring that everyone has a chance to engage with and contribute to the field of engineering. By merging technical expertise with entrepreneurial innovation, I aim to foster growth, sustainability, and inclusivity. In February, I will be running as Miss Boston Teen, with the platform of empowering children with learning disabilities, particularly in STEM fields. This initiative reflects my lifelong commitment to advocacy and my belief in the potential of every child to thrive when given the right resources and encouragement. I plan to continue empowering and advocating for individuals with learning differences throughout my life. In the future, I hope to combine my technical skills, entrepreneurial spirit, and passion for advocacy to make a lasting impact. Whether by creating affordable educational tools, mentoring young students, or driving innovation in energy and transportation, I am committed to empowering the next generation of problem-solvers and innovators. My journey has taught me that challenges can be opportunities for growth, and I’m excited to bring that mindset to my studies, my community, and my career as an engineer and advocate.

My teacher scribbled a hieroglyphic language onto the whiteboard.  "Now we'll find the tangent. Open up your notes from yesterday," Mr. Napior said. The unit on trusses seemed to drag on endlessly. It was sophomore year, and I was beginning to wonder if I even belonged in the Engineering and Robotics program at my technical high school.  After class, my teacher sat me down to ask about my visible distress. His question opened a floodgate: I blamed him for my confusion, for moving too fast, and for not abiding by my IEP for math. Later that night, he called my parents to share his hunch that I might have dyscalculia—a form of dyslexia that affects one's ability to comprehend numeric symbols and concepts. After a consultation with two specialists, that hunch was confirmed.  It was a relief to know that I wasn't merely "bad at math," but I also faced a difficult decision. If I did not receive tutoring in fundamentals, I would have to leave my program and settle for a less numerically intense course like graphic arts or cosmetology. The day after my 16th birthday, I walked into the Mathnasium Learning Center. Cartoon triangles on the walls cracked math jokes while first graders stared at me with undisguised curiosity. I was humiliated. Twice a week, I endured hours of tutoring after spending full school days working on trigonometry and calculus. For months, I hated every minute of it.  Around this time, I found a way to channel my frustration into something productive, beyond just re-learning multiplication tables. Through my involvement in DECA, I had been tasked with starting a project on community awareness, and I began to think about how I could help younger versions of myself—elementary schoolers who might also think that they were bad at math.  The result was a program that I called Grow With STEM, through which students at my school volunteer to teach supplementary lessons to area children. Through this local work, I was invited to present at a state-wide Girl Scout conference, where I taught lessons on nuclear energy and circuit building. Such lessons exemplify my organization’s mission to tie students’ math knowledge—which can often seem frustratingly abstract—to real-world engineering projects. "You are smart enough for STEM," I'd tell my students. The irony wasn't lost on me—I was telling these kids what I most needed to hear. As I grew into the role of a tutor, I became more comfortable with being tutored, and I began to find joy in deconstructing problems and piecing them back together. Having dyscalculia has set me back, but I've learned that obstacles don't define your path; your response to them does. Grow With STEM has taken on twelve international summer interns, setting the organization on its way to becoming a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. Over the past two years, I've realized that in life and in math, the formula for success isn't memorizing solutions; it's learning to embrace the challenge and finding your own way through. I'm currently awaiting my early decision response from Duke University. This is my dream school, but like most things in life, I have expensive taste. I will not receive financial aid from the school if admitted, and my parents are only able to provide a small monetary contribution. This scholarship would be a saving grace to the financial burden that will come from my college education.

The technology that inspires me most is nuclear fusion, particularly the use of magnetic fields to stabilize plasma within fusion reactors. My journey into this field began with an ordinary curiosity sparked by YouTube videos. This led me to explore more rigorous academic research on plasma stabilization—a crucial challenge in fusion energy. I was fascinated by how magnetic fields, often used in mag-lev trains, might have potential in stabilizing plasma in reactors. This led me to envision using coded magnets that could shift polarity based on inconsistencies in the plasma, effectively "hugging" it into place, much like how mag-lev trains hover. Pushing further, I wondered if artificial intelligence could play a role in predicting and adjusting magnetic fields in real time. The potential for AI to learn from the plasma's reactions and fine-tune the magnetic fields seems like a breakthrough in making fusion energy more feasible. When I reached out to an MIT professor to see if anyone had explored this idea, I learned that my concept wasn’t entirely new. While it wasn't an original idea, I was thrilled to discover that experts are already working on similar technologies, such as electromagnetic perturbations. What excites me most about this is the interconnectedness of scientific innovations. Seeing how one area of research, like mag-lev technology, can inspire ideas in completely different fields, such as nuclear fusion, demonstrates the power of interdisciplinary thinking. This is a reminder of how, with persistence and curiosity, even a casual YouTube video can spark a lifelong passion for solving some of the world's biggest challenges.

Growing up as a woman, I was always told I had to work harder to be taken seriously in fields like STEM. I knew from an early age that I wanted to pursue engineering, but I also knew that this ambition came with obstacles. Aside from the usual societal pressures on women in STEM—expectations to constantly prove myself and fight for a seat at the table—I have also faced personal challenges that many don’t see. I have dyscalculia, a learning disability that makes basic math a struggle. This combination of challenges—being a woman in a male-dominated field and navigating the complexities of dyscalculia—has shaped my determination to pursue STEM and to make a difference. Throughout my journey, I’ve encountered many moments that made me question my place in STEM. From being mansplained to in class by male peers, to feeling the weight of perfectionism placed on me simply because I’m a woman, the pressure has been overwhelming at times. In many situations, I’ve felt that if I didn’t get everything right, it would confirm the stereotype that women aren’t suited for STEM. When you have a learning disability like mine, those feelings are amplified. It’s not just about getting the math wrong—it’s about feeling like I’m constantly “proving” my worth, not just as a student, but as a woman in a male-dominated space. Despite these challenges, I’ve found solace and excitement in the more complex aspects of math and engineering. Advanced math, with its clear steps and logical structure, feels like a puzzle waiting to be solved, and I’ve learned to leverage my unique way of thinking to tackle these problems. The beauty of engineering lies in its creativity, in the way it allows me to think outside the box and find solutions to complex challenges. Dyscalculia, in a strange way, has become my advantage. I don’t follow the typical path, but I can still find my way through problems—just in a way that works for me. This experience has led me to start Grow With STEM, a program where students at my school volunteer to teach STEM concepts to elementary-aged children in our community. Grow With STEM has taken on twelve international summer interns, setting the organization on its way to becoming a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. We've also taught over a thousand children across Massachusetts, the majority of whom were Girl Scouts. As I continue to grow within STEM, my goal is to bring more women into the fold, especially those who, like me, might feel discouraged by the challenges they face. I plan to continue my work with Grow With STEM and expand it to reach more communities, focusing on inspiring young girls to pursue engineering and other STEM fields. By offering them a space where they can explore without fear of judgment or failure, I hope to help them find their confidence and their voice in a field that often overlooks them. Being a woman in STEM isn’t easy, and having dyscalculia adds another layer of complexity to my journey. But it’s this very struggle that fuels my desire to help others. I’ve learned that success isn’t about being perfect; it’s about persevering, embracing your unique perspective, and using it to create something new. My goal is to continue pushing forward in STEM, not just for my own success, but so that other women, especially those who face similar challenges, can follow their dreams too. I hope to be a role model for those who feel like they don’t belong—because the truth is, we all do.

My relationship with math hasn’t always been easy. In fact, for most of my life, I didn’t love math at all—it felt like a language I couldn’t speak. Being diagnosed with dyscalculia in my sophomore year helped me understand why math had always seemed like an insurmountable challenge. But what followed that diagnosis was a turning point in how I viewed both math and myself. At first, I thought dyscalculia was just another roadblock between me and the things I was passionate about, like engineering. I had to go back to basics, relearning fundamental math concepts through hours of tutoring. The experience was frustrating, and there were days when I wanted to give up. But over time, as I pieced together concepts I’d previously struggled with, I found a sense of accomplishment in each breakthrough. I realized that what I once saw as a weakness was actually an opportunity to develop resilience and creativity. I’ve come to love math because it teaches you how to think—how to break down complex problems into manageable steps, how to approach obstacles from different angles, and how to be persistent when the answers aren’t immediately clear. For me, math is no longer just about getting the right answer; it's about embracing the process of problem-solving. This mindset has fueled my passion for electrical engineering, where I use math as a tool to innovate, whether I'm working on projects like a solar tracker or exploring the intricacies of nuclear fusion. Math has also shown me how powerful it can be as a connector. Through my non-profit, Grow With STEM, I’ve had the chance to teach younger students who struggle with math, just like I did. Watching their faces light up when they finally grasp a concept or build something tangible using math-based skills is incredibly rewarding. I love how math can empower others to see the world in new ways, and I’m driven to help more students realize that, despite its challenges, math can be the key to unlocking their potential. In the end, my love for math comes from the journey it has taken me on—a journey from frustration to confidence. Math has taught me to be persistent, to think critically, and to approach challenges with an open mind. It has become more than just numbers on a page; it’s a way of solving real-world problems and, ultimately, shaping the future.

Carla M. Champagne’s legacy of selflessness and dedication to helping others resonates deeply with the values that have guided my own journey. Volunteering has been central to my life, not only because of the impact it allows me to make in my community but also because of the lessons it has taught me about perseverance, leadership, and the power of giving back. One of the most meaningful experiences I've had has been founding and leading Grow With STEM, a non-profit organization dedicated to bringing STEM education to young students. The inspiration behind Grow With STEM came from my own challenges—particularly my struggles with dyscalculia, a learning disability that made math difficult for me. Realizing that other students might be facing similar barriers, I wanted to create a program that would help kids—especially girls—see that they, too, could succeed in STEM. Over the past two years, I’ve led numerous workshops, collaborated with organizations like the Girl Scouts, and reached over 1,000 students through hands-on engineering lessons. Through this work, I’ve learned that volunteering isn’t just about giving time; it’s about finding innovative ways to make a lasting difference in the lives of others. One key lesson I’ve learned from volunteering is that empowerment is contagious. When I see students light up as they realize they can understand circuits or create something from scratch, I feel that same spark of confidence and excitement. It reminds me of the times when mentors and tutors helped me push through my own struggles, and I feel a deep responsibility to pay that forward. Through Grow With STEM, I’ve not only given back to my community but also built a network of volunteers who share the same vision of making STEM accessible to all. Looking ahead, I plan to continue expanding Grow With STEM and its impact. I want to turn the organization into a 501(c)(3) nonprofit and expand our reach, bringing STEM education to even more communities—especially those that are underserved. Additionally, I’m working toward a degree in electrical engineering, which will allow me to use my skills to develop sustainable technologies that benefit society as a whole. I am particularly fascinated by renewable energy and plasma physics, and I’m already working on projects, like a solar tracker phone charger, that could make sustainable energy more accessible to everyday users. For me, helping others is not a one-time action but a lifelong commitment. Carla M. Champagne’s legacy of service is one I deeply admire, and I’m honored to be considered for a scholarship that carries on her spirit of giving. Through my nonprofit work and my future career, I will continue to find ways to contribute to my community, create opportunities for others, and honor the values that Carla lived by—compassion, generosity, and a dedication to leaving the world a little better than we found it.

Understanding the nature of our universe is essential to advancing not only science, but also our potential as a society. The more we unravel the mysteries of the cosmos, the more we learn about the fundamental principles that govern everything—from the behavior of particles at a subatomic level to the vast dynamics of galaxies. This quest for knowledge isn’t just about theoretical understanding; it can lead to innovations that revolutionize technology, energy production, and even daily life. That’s why I’m passionate about contributing to this field. My own fascination with how we can harness the universe’s forces to address real-world problems began with nuclear fusion. Watching a YouTube video on fusion reactors piqued my curiosity, but it wasn’t enough. I dove deeper into academic articles on plasma stabilization and found myself drawn to the similarities between magnetic levitation technology in trains and the potential stabilization of plasma in reactors. The idea that magnetic fields could “hug” unstable plasma in place intrigued me, and I began to wonder whether we could use AI to predict and adjust those magnetic fields in real time. This exploration led me to correspond with an MIT professor, who introduced me to the concept of electromagnetic perturbations—a principle already being used in fusion research. What excites me most about better understanding the universe is this very sense of discovery and connection between ideas. The tools we develop to unlock the secrets of fusion energy, for instance, could drastically reshape how we generate power, moving us toward a cleaner, more sustainable future. The potential of nuclear fusion alone—to create almost limitless energy from the same process that powers the sun—is a testament to the importance of understanding the building blocks of our universe. By exploring concepts like plasma physics, electromagnetic fields, and artificial intelligence, I hope to contribute to the eventual realization of practical fusion energy. In a broader sense, the pursuit of understanding the universe teaches us that the answers we seek often lie in unexpected places. From mag-lev trains to nuclear reactors, innovations are frequently interconnected in ways that challenge our assumptions. I believe that by continuing to explore these connections and pushing the boundaries of what we know, we can unlock technological advances that might seem unimaginable today. Whether it's harnessing the energy of the stars or solving other universal mysteries, the quest to understand our universe is not just important—it’s essential to creating a future where science helps us thrive on Earth and beyond.

“The Best is Yet to Come” is a powerful reminder that no matter the struggles we face, there’s always hope for a brighter future. For me, this belief has been a guiding principle as I’ve navigated my own challenges, particularly those related to my dyscalculia diagnosis and the anxiety that came with it. My journey has not been easy, but I’ve learned that the obstacles I’ve faced don’t define me—they’ve shaped me into someone who knows how to persist, how to adapt, and how to turn adversity into opportunity. My dream is to become an electrical engineer, a field where I can combine my creativity with problem-solving to design solutions that benefit communities and the environment. But beyond my personal aspirations, my dream also involves helping others realize their potential, particularly young girls and students who, like me, might have doubted their abilities due to learning differences or other challenges. I founded Grow With STEM for this exact reason—to show kids that no matter what they’re up against, they can succeed in STEM and beyond. The idea that "The Best is Yet to Come" resonates deeply with me because it reminds me that progress is a journey, not a destination. When I was first diagnosed with dyscalculia, I felt like my dreams were slipping away. I thought that math, an essential component of engineering, would always be my Achilles’ heel. But through perseverance, tutoring, and the support of my teachers and family, I came to realize that my challenges were an opportunity to grow in ways I never anticipated. Instead of letting my struggles hold me back, I’ve turned them into strengths by learning how to break down complex problems and teaching others to do the same. This mindset of resilience is something I want to carry with me throughout my life. It’s why I believe in the power of education to transform lives, just as August Engler did. Despite his own battles, he held onto the belief that higher education could lead to a better future. In the same way, I’m committed to using my education to create positive change, not just for myself, but for those around me. The path forward may not always be easy, but I truly believe that with the right support and determination, the best is yet to come—not just for me, but for anyone who is willing to keep moving forward despite the setbacks they face. Education is not just about gaining knowledge; it’s about discovering new ways to overcome challenges and to use those experiences to better ourselves and our communities. In the future, I hope to continue expanding Grow With STEM, turning it into a nationwide or even global initiative that empowers students to believe in their potential. I want to design innovative solutions in renewable energy and sustainability, helping to tackle some of the world’s biggest problems. But more than that, I want to be someone who proves that with perseverance, creativity, and hope, anything is possible. The best, truly, is yet to come.

One teacher who significantly influenced me is Mr. Napior, my sophomore-year Engineering and Robotics instructor. At a time when I doubted my place in the STEM world, he opened my eyes to new ways of thinking, not just about math and engineering, but about myself and my potential. I vividly remember sitting in his class, staring at the equations on the board that seemed impossible to decode. We were in the middle of a unit on trusses, and I was struggling to understand the material. Every formula and calculation felt like a foreign language, and I began to question whether I belonged in the Engineering and Robotics program at my technical high school. My frustration was palpable, and Mr. Napior noticed. Instead of letting me slip through the cracks or move on without understanding, he did something that changed the course of my life—he sat me down after class and asked me about my struggles. That conversation wasn’t just about math. Mr. Napior saw something beyond my frustration and suspected that my difficulties were rooted in something more than a lack of effort or focus. He suggested that I might have dyscalculia, a form of dyslexia that affects one's ability to comprehend numbers. At first, I resisted the idea, embarrassed by the thought that my struggles could be due to a learning disability. But Mr. Napior wasn’t deterred. He reached out to my parents and encouraged them to have me tested. His boldness and willingness to look beyond the standard curriculum helped me get the diagnosis I needed to understand myself better and get the support that would allow me to thrive. Once my diagnosis was confirmed, Mr. Napior’s impact on me didn’t end there. He continued to challenge me, but in ways that made me see my potential rather than my limitations. He reframed math for me, showing me that while my brain might process numbers differently, that didn’t mean I couldn’t succeed in STEM. Through his radical approach to teaching, I began to understand that there are multiple ways to solve a problem, and that perseverance and creativity are just as valuable as speed or accuracy. This experience reshaped my entire approach to life. Rather than shy away from challenges, I now face them head-on, knowing that overcoming obstacles is part of the journey. Mr. Napior’s influence pushed me to start Grow With STEM, an organization that helps younger students, especially those who struggle with math, connect abstract concepts to real-world engineering projects. I’m proud to say that the program has reached over 1,000 students and continues to expand. It’s my way of paying forward the support that Mr. Napior gave me—showing students that they, too, can rise above their struggles and succeed. Through his boldness, Mr. Napior transcended traditional teaching methods and made a lasting impact on my life. He didn’t just teach me math; he taught me resilience, creativity, and the power of believing in yourself. His influence will continue to shape how I approach challenges, both in my academic career and beyond.

My journey to pursue a degree in electrical engineering has been marked by determination, perseverance, and a passion for problem-solving. As someone with dyscalculia, a learning disability that makes it difficult to comprehend numbers, the path to studying a math-intensive field like electrical engineering has not been easy. Yet, it is these challenges that have fueled my drive to succeed and make a difference in STEM. Growing up, I always had a deep curiosity for how things work. I wanted to understand the inner workings of everything, from household electronics to larger systems like renewable energy grids. However, math always stood in the way, making me doubt whether I could truly pursue a career in a science field. It wasn’t until my sophomore year in high school, when my teacher recognized my struggles and suggested I might have dyscalculia, that I finally understood the root of my challenges. After working with specialists, it became clear that I would need to dedicate extra time and effort to succeed in engineering. That’s when I began intensive tutoring at a local learning center, spending hours after school relearning the basics of math. It was difficult, humbling, and sometimes demoralizing, but I refused to give up. I knew that my love for engineering was stronger than the obstacles I faced. Over time, I began to see progress, and as I overcame my own challenges, I realized that there were likely many other students out there, especially younger ones, who might feel similarly discouraged by math. That realization inspired me to create Grow With STEM, a non-profit organization that aims to help young students—particularly girls—overcome their fears of math and science by showing them how these subjects connect to the real world. Our hands-on workshops, ranging from circuit building to renewable energy projects, give students the opportunity to learn in a way that is accessible and fun. Watching students light up as they build something meaningful, despite their initial struggles, is one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life. Pursuing a degree in electrical engineering allows me to explore solutions to global challenges, particularly in renewable energy. One of my projects, a solar tracker phone charger, was inspired by the inefficient solar energy systems in my own neighborhood. This project reflects my belief that science is not just about understanding concepts—it’s about using that knowledge to create sustainable, innovative solutions that benefit communities. As a low-income student, this scholarship would be immensely helpful in making my educational goals a reality. My family has supported me in every way possible, but the financial burden of college is significant. This scholarship would alleviate some of that pressure, allowing me to focus on my studies and continue my work with Grow With STEM, expanding our reach to help even more students. I chose to pursue electrical engineering because it aligns with my passion for innovation and problem-solving. Science and math may be demanding fields, but they are also incredibly rewarding. Through determination, hard work, and a commitment to making STEM accessible to all, I am dedicated to making a meaningful impact in the world, just as Hilliard L. “Tack” Gibbs Jr. did through his work with the USDA Forest Service.

Julie Adams' passion for empowering young women in STEM deeply resonates with my own journey. Like her, I believe in the transformative power of education, especially for young women who might feel out of place in a field dominated by numbers and equations. My path to electrical engineering has been shaped by both challenges and triumphs, and I’ve learned that the obstacles we face often become the foundation for the impact we create. In sophomore year, I struggled to understand a unit on trusses in my Engineering and Robotics program. My teacher, Mr. Napior, had written an equation on the board, but it felt like hieroglyphics to me. It was a moment of doubt. I wondered if I truly belonged in the program. After class, Mr. Napior sat me down, and after our conversation, he suspected I had dyscalculia—a learning disability that affects one's ability to understand numbers. After seeing specialists, his hunch was confirmed, and I was left with a difficult choice: get math tutoring or leave the program entirely. The day after my 16th birthday, I reluctantly started tutoring at a learning center. Surrounded by cartoon triangles and first graders who understood math better than I did, I felt humiliated. For months, I grappled with the basics, frustrated that something as fundamental as numbers could hold me back from my passion for engineering. But this frustration ignited a spark in me. Through DECA, a business and leadership program, I started a project that became Grow With STEM, an initiative aimed at teaching young students—especially girls—how STEM could be fun, creative, and accessible. My experience made me realize that students struggling with math, like I once did, needed to see how it applied to real-world problems. I wanted to help kids understand that even if math feels like a foreign language, it doesn’t define their ability to succeed in STEM. Through Grow With STEM, I’ve led workshops at state-wide events like the Girl Scouts’ Geek is Glam conference, where we taught lessons on nuclear energy and circuit building. Watching these young students' eyes light up when they realized they could build something meaningful with concepts they once found difficult was incredibly rewarding. The program has grown beyond what I imagined, with 12 international interns, and it’s on the path to becoming a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. This work is not just about teaching STEM—it's about showing students that they are capable of more than they ever thought possible. My passion for electrical engineering lies in its potential to solve global problems. I’ve seen firsthand the challenges of inconsistent solar energy in my community, and it inspired me to create a solar tracker phone charger that could maximize the efficiency of solar panels. Through this project, I realized that engineering is about more than just equations—it's about problem-solving, creativity, and persistence. Julie Adams' commitment to supporting young women in STEM aligns perfectly with my goals. Pursuing electrical engineering allows me to continue pushing boundaries, not just for myself but for the next generation of innovators who, like me, may need a little extra encouragement to see that they, too, can light up the world.

In second grade, a teacher bluntly told my parents, "Your child is dumb and will never succeed." Despite their unwavering support and decision to move me to a better school system, those words haunted me. I carried the weight of being "different" throughout my early education, especially in subjects like math and science. Excelling in other areas, I still struggled in these fields, feeling isolated and inadequate. This narrative of inadequacy persisted until the COVID-19 pandemic brought an unexpected shift. Online learning became a catalyst for self-discovery. Math, which had always felt like an insurmountable obstacle, began to make sense in ways it never had before. It wasn't just about understanding numbers; it was about realizing that my learning style wasn't flawed—it was simply different. This realization sparked a new sense of hope and possibility. Attending Bristol-Plymouth Vocational School marked a turning point. For the first time, there was a sense of belonging. Success in classes, meaningful friendships, and a growing confidence in my abilities transformed my self-perception. When it came time to choose a vocational program, the natural choice was STEM, specifically engineering. This decision, however, brought its own set of challenges. While a love for STEM was undeniable, the complexity of the concepts often reignited old feelings of inadequacy. Doubts about whether I belonged in this field, or whether I had the "right" kind of intelligence, surfaced frequently. Sophomore year became a critical juncture. Struggling with depression and anxiety, a teacher suggested that my difficulties with math might be self-inflicted, exacerbated by societal expectations and gender biases. Although this comment was hurtful, it led to a pivotal moment of clarity: a diagnosis of dyscalculia, a form of math dyslexia. This diagnosis, though late, was liberating. It brought an understanding that the struggles weren't a reflection of my abilities, but rather a challenge to be met with new strategies and perseverance. Tutoring became a lifeline, turning initial embarrassment into a source of strength. Excelling in math was possible—it just required more time and different approaches. With newfound confidence, my focus turned to a true passion: nuclear engineering. This dream, ignited during freshman year, has only grown stronger with time. An essential component of my success in college and my future career will be my unique neurodiverse strengths and skills. I have an outgoing personality and a strong business mindset—qualities that are often lacking in traditional STEM environments. This combination allows me to stretch my limits when it comes to learning and to utilize my natural instincts in ways that can drive innovation and progress in fields like nuclear engineering. My ability to approach problems with creativity and a strategic mindset provides a fresh perspective that can bridge gaps between technical expertise and practical application. Now, there is a firm resolve and determination to contribute to groundbreaking nuclear fusion research at MIT. What once seemed like a distant dream is now a tangible goal. However, this journey extends beyond personal achievement. With the support of this scholarship, I will be equipped not only to achieve my dreams but also to drive remarkable advancements in sustainable energy. Imagine a world where clean, affordable electricity powers everything—from ending world hunger to tackling climate change and revolutionizing healthcare. This is the future I am committed to building. This is not just a statement of intent; it is a commitment. Failure is not an option. The battles with inner demons, the confrontation with fears, have only served to strengthen my resolve. With the right support, these dreams will become reality, lighting up a brighter future for generations to come.

Fusion - Ring - Korean - Radio Bacon - eyes - Rust - Wind Mexican - Corn - Ruby- Oil Caesar - Sonic - Water - Queen Do you have the wits to decrypt this outrageous enigma? Legend has it, some have sat on the loo for centuries, perplexed by the intricacies of these sixteen daunting words. How cruel I am to be the master of this cryptogrammic marvel! However, my friend, in exchange for five-hundred American dollars, I shall revel to you, the answer you seek and hidden truth behind this labyrinth. Though a steep cost, your generous contribution will fund my life's work: solving the puzzles of the unknown universe. Are you ready to buy your way to the solution, which many have sought out to find but have died while trying? Very well then, hand the check over and we shall begin. Dedicated to my passion for physics, electrical, and nuclear energy, I've compiled a list of "Types of Energy" such as: Fusion, Oil, Sonic, and Wind. For a love of all things music, food, and candy related, I proudly present to you the "Words That Start or End With Pop" category: Korean, Corn, Ring, eyes. Again, a theme of physics and fun, I give you "Waves": Radio, Mexican, Water, Queen. Thanks to the puzzle lover and computer scientist in me, I naturally had to create a row titled "Types of Code": Ruby, Caesar, Bacon, Rust. I understand, my extreme intelligence may disturb you. No need to worry, as I shall explain all of which you do not understand. You see, Korean Pop = K-Pop and eyes = Popeyes. You may not have heard of the Mexican wave, but if you've been to a sporting event, you've participate in it. The irony of "Types of Code" is quite humorous. You are likely to to have heard of Ruby and Rust, two coding languages which are in the shadow of Python in this day of age, but had their fifteen seconds of fame between Y2K. Caesar and Bacon cipher are both alphabetic codes, used during some old war by old men disagreeing about some old religion. Yes, that's what your five-hundred dollars bought you. A very simple explanation to an even simpler problem. I suppose that's what I love about puzzles. Everything seems so overwhelming until you organize the pieces and discover the answer. I often find people trying to combine Queen, Ruby, Caesar, and Ring into a "Royalty" category. Why on Earth would I care anything about that? And, sure, I LOVE food, but I don't understand why people are always trying to pair up Korean, Fusion, and Mexican! What tastes so good about deuterium? Very well then, I shall run off with my new pocket full of funds and solve the question: How to achieve nuclear fusion? You know, MIT doesn't pay for itself. Key: Types of Energy: Fusion, Oil, Sonic, Wind Words That Start or End With Pop: Korean, Corn, Ring, eyes Waves: Radio, Mexican, Water, Queen Types of Code: Ruby, Caesar, Bacon, Rust

A burning flush of pink rose to my cheeks as I stood before the Girl Scouts. It was strange to see these young students sitting in a college lecture room. Like a Freaky Friday moment where the kids swap responsibilities with adults. Unfortunately, that applied to me too. Instead of a Ph.D., Ivy educated, middle aged professor… they had me. A fifteen year old, numerically dyslexic, high school engineering student. What was I thinking when I signed up for this? How was I supposed to teach these bright girls with big aspirations about nuclear energy? I was no expert on the topic, just an amateur hobbyist. ... Despite being a member of the NHS, NTHS, and Student Ambassadors, I knew I could do more than the typical volunteer work. In these clubs, I’m always making cards for senior citizens and hospitalized kids (which does not blend well with my lack of artisticness). As important as these causes are, I knew I had what it took to initiate and manage a community organization focusing on a matter near and dear to my heart. Like I said, I’m numerically dyslexic, commonly referred to as dyscalculia. Interestingly enough, I’m also in the prestigious and competitive Engineering & Robotics program at my vocational high school. Even at my weakest, I NEEDED to ensure that no child was kept from their true potential as I was. In the summer of 2021, I initiated Grow With STEM. I started with making Instagram posts, providing information on how to find accommodating STEM education resources. Soon, I was hosting activities at the Taunton resource center and Pre-K. Prioritizing unique topics, I taught about structural stability, buoyancy, material science, and finance… all hands-on activities! I made it a point to my students that being the stereotypical “smart” is not necessary to go into STEM. You can take your time, gain valuable assets through trial and error, and make your own fun. Slowly but surely, as I preached this to others, I began to implement this thinking in my own life. All reflecting in my rising grades and confidence! I’ve accomplished many milestones throughout Grow With STEM’s life. I’ve funded scientists to teach students about magnetism at a local, underprivileged school. In DECA, Grow With STEM was a 2021 State Semi-Finalist in the Community Awareness event. I even participated in the Girl Scout STEM Conference (as mentioned in the preamble of this essay) to teach about nuclear energy. Though the experiment was a failure, I worked with 400 girls that day from all over Massachusetts! I’m now working to make Grow With STEM a 501(c)(3), create STEM clubs across the country, and fund research on learning disabilities! While I’ve worked with hundreds of kids, this organization has inspired me too. I’m seeing my dream of studying Electrical & Nuclear Engineering at MIT become a reality as my hard work has paid off. … Devastated due to the failure of my experiment, I headed to the dining hall of the university to sulk my sorrows in cookies and soft serve ice cream. Staring into a glazed daydream, a group of girls came up to me. Obviously nervous to approach me uninvited, they said something that would forever change my life. “Even though your experiment didn’t work… so far your workshop has been our favorite.” It was then I realized that I’d done my job. Other workshops were teaching the girls about photosynthesis and weather patterns, treating them as children. I, however, knew their true worth and intelligence. I had accomplished what I had come to do; reinvent STEM education.

A burning flush of pink rose to my cheeks as I stood before the Girl Scouts. It was strange to see these young students sitting in a college lecture room. Like a Freaky Friday moment where the kids swap responsibilities with adults. Unfortunately, that applied to me too. Instead of a Ph.D., Ivy educated, middle aged professor… they had me. A fifteen year old, numerically dyslexic, high school engineering student. What was I thinking when I signed up for this? How was I supposed to teach these bright girls with big aspirations about nuclear energy? I was no expert on the topic, just an amateur hobbyist. ... Despite being a member of the NHS, NTHS, and Student Ambassadors, I knew I could do more than the typical volunteer work. In these clubs, I’m always making cards for senior citizens and hospitalized kids (which does not blend well with my lack of artisticness). As important as these causes are, I knew I had what it took to initiate and manage a community organization focusing on a matter near and dear to my heart. Like I said, I’m numerically dyslexic, commonly referred to as dyscalculia. Interestingly enough, I’m also in the prestigious and competitive Engineering & Robotics program at my vocational high school. Even at my weakest, I NEEDED to ensure that no child was kept from their true potential as I was. In the summer of 2021, I initiated Grow With STEM. I started with making Instagram posts, providing information on how to find accommodating STEM education resources. Soon, I was hosting activities at the Taunton resource center and Pre-K. Prioritizing unique topics, I taught about structural stability, buoyancy, material science, and finance… all hands-on activities! I made it a point to my students that being the stereotypical “smart” is not necessary to go into STEM. You can take your time, gain valuable assets through trial and error, and make your own fun. Slowly but surely, as I preached this to others, I began to implement this thinking in my own life. All reflecting in my rising grades and confidence! I’ve accomplished many milestones throughout Grow With STEM’s life. I’ve funded scientists to teach students about magnetism at a local, underprivileged school. In DECA, Grow With STEM was a 2021 State Semi-Finalist in the Community Awareness event. I even participated in the Girl Scout STEM Conference (as mentioned in the preamble of this essay) to teach about nuclear energy. Though the experiment was a failure, I worked with 400 girls that day from all over Massachusetts! I’m now working to make Grow With STEM a 501(c)(3), create STEM clubs across the country, and fund research on learning disabilities! While I’ve worked with hundreds of kids, this organization has inspired me too. I’m seeing my dream of studying Electrical & Nuclear Engineering at MIT become a reality as my hard work has paid off. … Devastated due to the failure of my experiment, I headed to the dining hall of the university to sulk my sorrows in cookies and soft serve ice cream. Staring into a glazed daydream, a group of girls came up to me. Obviously nervous to approach me uninvited, they said something that would forever change my life. “Even though your experiment didn’t work… so far your workshop has been our favorite.” It was then I realized that I’d done my job. Other workshops were teaching the girls about photosynthesis and weather patterns, treating them as children. I, however, knew their true worth and intelligence. I had accomplished what I had come to do; reinvent STEM education.

I chose to pursue the most challenging, prestigious, and competitive program at my vocational high school. Engineering & Robotics. Driven by a burning passion for innovation and problem-solving. Despite facing dyscalculia (AKA: math dyslexia) I've embraced the challenge. From a young age, I've grappled with numbers, relying on weekly tutoring sessions to grasp fundamentals. The journey has been turbulent, marked by self-doubt and panic attacks. But I refused to prove the doubtful relatives and teachers right. What excites me about this education is the opportunity to redefine myself and make a lasting impact. I envision myself as a trailblazer in the field on electrical engineering, challenging stereotypes and inspiring others facing similar challenges. Despite setbacks, including a daunting research project on nuclear fusion reactors, initiating a community organization to provide STEM education to children in Massachusetts, and an internship at a renewable energy startup, I persist. Fueled by passion and a desire for self-growth, I am unapologetically optimistic about my future. In pursuing this program, I am not just seeking personal success; I am driven by a desire to better the world and prove that dyscalculia doesn't define me. I aspire to not only follow in the footsteps of visionaries, but to become an inspiration for our future innovators.

Warm strands of water, trickling down my skin, while anxiety clawed at my throat and pounded in my head. The relentless sensation often left my eyes bloodshot. I'd turn up the heat on the shower, hoping the steam would whisk me away from reality, if only temporarily. This was the scene that awaited me at the end of every day. I have dyscalculia, often referred to as math dyslexia. I don't see numbers correctly, formulas are always scrambled around in my head, rearranging themselves as they please. My father's frustrated attempts to guide me through homework complicated my academic challenges, leading to tears and self-hatred. Teachers and peers alike labeled me as "a very special young girl." But not in a wonderful way… more of a “special classroom” and “special accommodations” kind of way. Years of neglecting my academic struggles left me adrift, realizing I needed to redefine myself. Despite doubts, I embraced the challenge of pursuing Engineering & Robotics at a vocational high school. Freshman year was marked by panic attacks and impostor syndrome, while sophomore year left me convinced that I’d be better off working at Hooters than following through with engineering. But hitting rock bottom spurred another determination to change. I rewired my thinking, embracing tutoring and seeking inspiration from figures like Albert Einstein, who is thought to have dyscalculia. The summer before junior year, I immersed myself in STEM subjects, discovering a passion for electrical engineering. Initiating Grow With STEM, a community organization, became a platform to share my journey and provide support to others facing learning difficulties. In the face of daunting research projects and internships, I persisted, determined to prove my worth. At WindRays Energy, Inc., a renewable energy startup, I've taken charge of website design and engaged with venture capitalists, demonstrating my grit. I say this all not to show an essay format of my resume, but to prove that I’m fueled by a burning passion, hunger for success, and desire for self growth. When (and I say when because I’m unapologetically an optimist) I’m admitted into MIT, I will follow the cycle of struggle and then regrowth through my engineering degree. I know that I will always struggle through my studies and career, probably a whole lot more than my peers, but I believe this is what drives my innovation and success. My brain is quite literally wired differently than the average person. For so long this has been a fault of mine, only now is it becoming an asset. I dream of pursuing a lifetime of research on energy . To better the world, yes, but to also prove others wrong. With this scholarship I will pose as a figure for those with learning difficulties and for those who were told no at some point in their life. I will be the next Steve Jobs, Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, and John Young. But I’ll look a whole lot better in heels than any of them.

In second grade, those words hit me hard: "Your child is dumb & will never succeed." It was a moment that seemed to define me, despite my parents' efforts to change schools and give me a fresh start. I carried that weight of being "different" with me, facing whispers and stares when I was taken out of class for special lessons. I bought into my teacher's harsh judgment, struggling through math and science even as I excelled in other subjects. Moving through different school districts, doubts and embarrassment followed me like a shadow. Then, unexpectedly, the pandemic shifted everything. Online learning reignited a spark of hope, and suddenly, math wasn't an insurmountable obstacle anymore. Stepping into Bristol-Plymouth, a vocational school, was a game-changer. I found my stride, acing classes and feeling like I finally fit in. But choosing a vocational program presented its own set of challenges. STEM subjects, especially engineering, intrigued me. Yet, as I grappled with complex concepts, doubts crept back in, and I questioned whether I truly belonged. Sophomore year became a turning point. Depression and anxiety resurfaced, and I spiraled downward. A teacher's comment suggesting that my struggles were somehow self-inflicted and connected to my gender as a woman only intensified my distress. It was a dark period, until a diagnosis of dyscalculia brought clarity and a fresh perspective. Tutoring became my lifeline, turning my initial embarrassment into a source of strength. I discovered that I learned differently, but I also discovered that I could excel. With newfound confidence, I’ve been working on many ambitious projects! For the past two years, I’ve conducted my DECA (Distributive Education Clubs of America) project on the student-run organization I initiated, Grow With STEM, to provide unique STEM opportunities to kids in my community. Hoping to help others with similar challenges as myself, we’ve already worked with over one hundred-twenty kids, paid a local nonprofit to bring scientists to an underprivileged school in Massachusetts, and we’ll be presenting a workshop on nuclear energy to four hundred Girl Scouts this Fall! Separately, I’m perfecting my own research paper on nuclear fusion magnets which change their polarity based on plasma turbulence which will then be submitted to the MIT THINK Competition in January. I’m extra busy to say the least! Overall, I stand firm and determined. I can envision myself contributing to groundbreaking nuclear fusion research at MIT as an undergraduate. Yet, this journey extends beyond me; it's a chance to make a lasting impact on the world. Your support through this scholarship wouldn't just empower me, but it could drive remarkable advancements. Just imagine: ending world hunger, tackling climate change, revolutionizing healthcare, all powered by accessible and affordable electricity. I'm not just stating a goal; I'm making a commitment. Failure is not an option. I've battled my inner demons, confronted my fears, and emerged even stronger. With your support, I'm on track to achieve my dreams and create a lasting change. Together, we have the power to light up a brighter future for generations to come.

Math has been an enduring challenge in my life. Growing up with dyscalculia, I struggled to comprehend its concepts, leaving me feeling inadequate and less intelligent than my peers. I vividly remember nights at the kitchen table, tears of frustration streaming down my face, while my father, a financial advisor and math whiz, tried patiently to explain my homework. My second-grade teacher's hurtful remarks only worsened my self-esteem, leading my parents to move me to a new school and place me on an IEP in third grade. As I progressed through school, I felt years behind my peers and developed a quiet demeanor, fearing ridicule for my learning difficulties. Math and science classes became sources of anxiety, and I constantly battled with imposter syndrome. Nevertheless, I held onto my dream of making a significant impact and earning success. Believing that hard work would prove my worth, I applied to Bristol-Plymouth Tech for a fresh start. Despite my earlier struggles, I pushed forward, focusing on my goal of studying at MIT. The engineering and robotics program beckoned to me, even though it meant confronting my fear of math head-on. Freshman year proved to be a rollercoaster, with moments of elation for being accepted into the program, with struggles and self-doubt when grappling with advanced math and problem-solving skills. Trapped in a cycle of tears and frustration, I questioned my abilities once more. A conversation with a teacher, who misunderstood the depth of my struggles, left me feeling even more dismissed. However, this incident compelled my parents to pursue further evaluations, and I finally received the diagnosis of dyscalculia at the age of sixteen. With the diagnosis came a newfound understanding of my challenges, and I embarked on a path of tutoring. Though initially hesitant, I recognized the importance of addressing my mental health, and I sought help for my severe anxiety and depression linked to my math difficulties. Slowly, through hard work and medication, I began to see a positive change. The journey has been far from easy, but I refuse to let my dyscalculia define me. Summer brings a renewed sense of confidence as I prepare to enter my junior year. With the support of tutoring and accommodations, math no longer feels like an insurmountable obstacle. Moreover, my dream of studying nuclear engineering at MIT is closer to becoming a reality. My struggles with dyscalculia have taught me resilience and perseverance. I have learned to advocate for myself and seek help when needed. My determination to succeed in a field that challenges me is a testament to my grit and unwavering passion. Despite the setbacks, I refuse to give up on my dreams. With each step forward, I find myself inching closer to the inspiring story I want to tell. My journey is only just beginning, but I believe it holds the potential to inspire others facing similar challenges. I want to be an advocate for students with learning disabilities and show them that with determination, support, and self-belief, they can overcome any obstacle in their path. I am immensely grateful for the Dylan’s Journey Memorial Scholarship, which recognizes the unique struggles of students like me. It would be an honor to receive this scholarship and continue my pursuit of engineering at MIT. With this opportunity, I hope to make a meaningful impact in the world, proving that a learning disability should never be a hindrance to fulfilling one's dreams. My passion, resilience, and dedication will drive me forward as I strive to honor Dylan's legacy and inspire others to achieve their aspirations, no matter the challenges they face.

Imagine waking up every morning perched off of a cliff, with turquoise clear waters clashing against the jagged-amber rock below and ivory yachts sprinkled about the sea. Your peaceful neighbors would be nothing but cacti and fruit trees. A long driveway shaded by strings of ivy leads to a convenient walking path to the nearby sleepy Spanish town and beach. OKAY. It sounds like a billionaire's paradise. But when you're Barbie, your imagination knows no bounds! My life goal? To practically become Barbie. I'll have the sleek, modern house with a pool and enough guest rooms for all the friends I'd like to invite for a weekend getaway. But MOST importantly, I want the job, the salary, the education, the success, and for it to all be MINE and earned from my hard work. Once my fusion breakthrough as a nuclear engineer makes me millions, I'll head to the little island of Mallorca, Spain, and build my very own Mojo Dojo Casa House. Oh... It'll be nothing. Just a minimalistic mega mansion with a stunningly impractical design that only a genius like myself could come up with. Picture this: the exterior will resemble a giant Rubik's Cube, changing colors every hour just to keep the guests on their toes. The front yard will boast a fully functional roller coaster instead of a driveway, ensuring every visitor has an exhilarating arrival experience. And traditional doors? Forget about them! We'll have secret passages disguised as bookshelves, paintings, and even a hidden slide to get from the first to the second floor. Inside, every room will embrace its own absurd theme. A gravity-defying room with ceilings and floors covered in mirrors to confuse anyone who dares to enter. The kitchen will be equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, including a talking fridge that offers sarcastic commentary on your food choices. Bathrooms will have automated toilets with mood sensor technology, so they'll only flush when they feel appreciated. Now, let's not overlook the backyard. An Olympic-sized swimming pool filled with jelly instead of water, providing a deliciously messy and adventurous experience for swimmers. And, to top it all off, a flock of flamingos will roam the grounds, dressed in formal attire, hosting tea parties for anyone who cares to join. Of course, practicality isn't entirely forgotten. My Barbie dream house will house a nuclear fusion reactor deep within the ground, cheaply powering not only my home but also the entire island and the world! And yes, it will effortlessly solve homelessness, hunger, cancer, and restore our natural state of ideal happiness and inclusion. But hey, that's no big deal. Geothermal heating and cooling will be installed, along with an underground hydroponic farm to feed my friends, my army of kittens, and my fellow engineers. So yes, this Barbie is not just a pretty face but also a STEMINIST and a future nuclear engineer—an icon to young minds and an advocate for those with learning disabilities like myself. Oh, did I mention that my degree from MIT will be prestigiously displayed underneath a heroic painting of me riding a stallion into Barbieland? Oops, how could I forget! Feel the Kenergy, my friends!

Being brought into a world where technology is praised can make such a huge impact on someone. A bigger impact than most people can even imagine. Clean modern concepts. The attention to detail. Those were the kind of things that caught my eye as a child. And because I found the newest cars and technology so visually pleasing, I started to ask about them. I distinctly remember asking my father what solar panels were and when electric cars would become the norm. And here we are today, there’s a Tesla on every street corner and most of our neighbors are transitioning to solar power to run their homes. So going into a vocational high school, I had to pick a program I wanted to go through for the next four years. Did it only make sense to pick Engineering & Robotics? To be completely honest, I didn’t know what I wanted to do when entering high school. As normal as that sounds to most people, just about all my other peers knew what they wanted to do with their lives since fifth grade. That is the point of a technical school after all. So I picked engineering without a single clue of what I was getting myself into except for the fact that I love technology. It wasn’t long after I started in engineering that I’d felt the constant pressure of being a female in a male-dominated shop. I had heard my entire life that it’s crucial to get more females into STEM. But what does it feel like to be one out of the three girls in a class of eighteen students? Though I have two other female peers whom I love dearly, it’s easy to feel like the dumbest person in the room when you’re a girl and have an IEP in math. At that point, I started to wonder if I really belonged in the shop. The individualized education program. That’s what they call it, but as a kid, I just thought that was their soft way of saying where the stupid kids are placed. No matter how much tutoring or extra time I had on tests, it was pretty discouraging having “learning disability” written all over my records at school. So I quit. No, I couldn’t drop out but daydreaming through my math classes was pretty much the equivalent. But now being in high school, in a math-based shop, I deeply regret ever saying “Why do I have to learn this stuff? It’s not like I’m ever gonna use it.” When thinking about my plans for the future, it all goes back to growing up. My love for technology, my hatred for math, but also the thing I have most in common with my parents. A love to travel. I always knew I was lucky. The frequent trips to Mexico, Canada, the UK, France, Austria, and the annual summer trip to Mallorca, Spain. Most of my friends hadn’t been outside of New England. Or even on a plane. The beautiful man-made birds of the sky, darting through the clouds with little to care about. Flying over cities at three in the morning feels like something straight out of TRON. That’s my happy place, thousands of feet away from all my problems down below. I hope to study aerospace engineering as well as engineering project management. So what problems do I want to solve by using my knowledge of technology? First, I plan to make air travel eco-friendly, cheaper, and therefore easily accessible for others to explore the world, just as I have. I dream of people with varying sexual orientations, races, and backgrounds to have the chance to go and experience the joy of flying, and for them to be inspired by the fact that even if society has told them they can’t achieve something because of a label they have or because of how their intelligence is weighed, they can as long as they work hard. I want to be an example of that. Secondly, at some point down the road, I hope to fund a school or program that approaches teaching math, science, and STEM-related subjects in a whole different style. I look back on my own experiences in elementary and middle school and think about how much easier math could be for me now if I was taught organization skills or if I was taught how to identify repetition in math instead of being forced to solve the same problems over and over again. Just as Einstein said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” The time is long overdue that we recognize this in our school’s curriculum. There’s so much wrong in our school systems and society. And there are so many people who have ideas on how to improve these problems. All we need is funding to put their ideas into action, and I am more than willing to do my part.