Since I could remember I was captivated by the movement of machines and the dialogue of functioning robots. Whether I was building from scratch, or teaching myself programming languages, I loved every second. Mechanical engineering became more than an interest. It became the lens that showed me how to transform ideas into functional systems. There was one problem, however, curiosity alone wasn’t enough. Every engineer knows that no matter how great the design, it will fail if a port isn’t connected. For me, the connection was an opportunity. In the Far Rockaway community there was a serious lack of free STEM programs. I remember the first time I looked for a local robotics program. I imagined what it would feel like to sit at a workbench and be surrounded by sensors, and screws. When I finally found a program, my excitement turned into disappointment when I realized it cost a fortune. For the moment, it felt like that door had been closed before I could reach for the handle. I couldn’t help but wonder how many future engineers never developed because of this lack of opportunities. Looking back, that setback became an important stage. Systems and robots weren’t made to avoid difficulties, they were made to overcome them. In fact, they are upgraded in the midst of obstacles and strengthened after responding to challenges. Instead of abandoning my curiosity, I continued to search for environments that challenged me to think differently while exploring my interests. That recalibration began with my high school’s CTE Engineering track. There I was able to explore my passion with like-minded peers. My ideas improved under discussion, and my outputs became streams of innovation. At the same time, I entered NYU’s ARISE Program. I wasn’t just solving textbook problems, I was confronting real world questions with uncertain, yet infinite answers. Sometimes experiments failed, but every challenge was an invitation to dig deeper. My heart was filled with a sense of belonging. Even though I was experiencing the life I desperately wanted in my youth, there were still many kids that didn't have the same access to STEM programs. I had to do something. Through my school's robotics team I was able to turn that desire into action by creating workshops, community events and virtual sessions that introduce engineering in a fun and engaging way. I wanted these programs to proved the kind of exposure that I wish I had growing up. I wanted to show young students that STEM is just about solving complex questions. It is about being creative, collaborating, problem solving, and building confidence. The more kids I helped the more fulfilling that work became. No robot I built could every top the satisfaction I felt the moments where a child's face light up after creating their first Scratch game or seeing their rubber-band drag racer cross the finish line. From searching for robotics programs to leading my own STEM programs, my life has been driven by adaptability. Although uncertainty influenced my early life, it never determined my identity. Instead, it became a teacher that pushed me into a deep respect for diligence, curiosity, and purpose. I am fascinated by how different my current state is from my initial blueprint. The significance of my redesign wasn’t just creating my own path, but building one for students that are looking for an opportunity like me.

I recently learned a powerful lesson: how to transform the various challenges once meant to bind us into the foundation upon which we flourish. From a young age, I was captivated by the inner workings of machines and the logic behind how computers and robots functioned. Going above and beyond with any little project that I had my hands on was never a question someone on my team had to ask. Whether I would build the robot from scratch, teach myself programming languages or stay after class to test extra designs, I loved every fleeting second. There was an assessment for my robotics class called "Find the Endpoint" where a team had to design a robot that could navigate a course using various sensors. Everything was going well until the last day–the distance sensor on our robot wouldn’t pick up the first obstacle when presenting. No amount of debugging could fix it before the deadline approached. I felt like all of our hard work meant nothing and I began to question if I belong in engineering. Mr. Hudacek told me a harsh truth: “Not everything we build will succeed. It’s our duty as engineers to find the solutions that can solve our problems–no matter how imperfect”. These words gave me a realization: the reason my designs felt lacking and the reason I doubted myself was because I focused my energy on achieving perfection rather than growing from imperfections. I realized that setbacks weren't walls to stop progress, but steps for us to climb. From that day forward, I re-ignited the flame that drew me to engineering. This heartfelt passion has evolved into a commitment to creating innovative machines, and software that can solve real-world problems. Today, I’m working with New York Junior Tennis League (NYJTL) to program an app that will aid coaches in lesson-planning. Despite my motivations and academic excellence, the reality of my financial situation is constricting me. My family relies solely on my mother’s income, and although she works tirelessly, her income can’t cover the high cost of attendance, such as housing, of most engineering-based institutions. This scholarship would allow me to focus on pursuing my passion for engineering and my commitment to changing the way we approach problem-solving without financial burdens. Instead of being paralyzed by an unspoken obligation to get everything exactly correct, I’ve learned to think critically and move my team forward with confidence.