The frigid air rushes past as the ground slips out underneath my skates. I sprawl across the ice, my hip taking the brunt of the force. I eventually got up and joined my friend in laughing at my fall. She encouraged me to try the jump again and I landed my first ever double salchow, a milestone. When I started skating at 5 years old, I used to look forward to earning “Well Done!” stickers from my coaches. Although the days of pink glitter helmets are a distant memory, the tight-knit community of friends at Detroit Skating Club is what I look forward to now. I have many fond memories with them of fooling around backstage at the ice show and copying the big girls’ moves, working in Open Skate and with little kids in Learn to Skate, or volunteering at competitions. Our camaraderie is unmatched. We always support each other: at 6 a.m. practice, competitions, gym, or in the med bay squeezing each other’s hands as the nurse wrapped a bruised leg. I could count on them to understand the frustrations of the sport, lend a shoulder to cry on, and soothe my nerves at competitions. And they could count on me. Without this community, I wouldn’t be at my current level. They pushed me daily to become a better skater and gain confidence in my skills. This unwavering encouragement paved the way for achieving my goals like getting a solo in the annual club ice show or passing the Gold Level in skating skills. Now as a varsity skating team captain, it’s my duty to foster the same supportive community that defined my journey. The profound impact of this environment resonated with me, driving me to reinstate its legacy and empower my teammates to their potential. As a prolific skater, I had one last Skating Skills Test to pass, Gold. It is the hardest test and is the last hurdle before being considered a master in skating skills. I had never struggled so hard to pass a test. I had failed many before but never more than twice. In this test alone, I failed twice. I kept making silly mistakes, falling on moves I was confident in. I felt a sense of despair, the self-doubt took over my mind. I signed up for a test even though I did not feel confident and set myself on it. I turned every fall into a lesson. I practiced on the ice for weeks straight, perfecting every small movement and gaining confidence in my abilities. I recorded myself completing the test skill, seeing where I could improve and constantly asking my coach for advice that I could apply. I even used a little bit of physics to figure out how to stop myself from messing up edges. I wanted to make sure that the judges felt fully confident to pass and honor me with the label. I walked into the rink on testing day, nervous and scared. I walked out as a Gold Skater, the greatest achievement in my skating career.

Astronomy is growing rapidly, with world-changing discoveries just at the tip of our fingers. I want to be part of this advancement - to contribute to scientists' understanding of the final frontier. This goal of mine will be built on my academic foundation. Throughout high school, I was striving towards the same goals: all A’s, valedictorian, and acceptance into a good school. Secondary education will be no different. In college, I aspire to promote young women in STEM, build meaningful relationships, and leave my comfort zone. But my academics stand above all. I want to overachieve, mirroring my high school success. I want academic excellence, paving the way for graduate school and ultimately a doctorate. My love for learning drives my fascination for research. It began junior year when I wrote a math research paper. Given my love for calculus, I took related rates and applied it to my blossoming interest in astrophysics, calculating the rate at which the Earth's shadow covers the moon’s surface during a lunar eclipse. However, I kept getting different results every time I differentiated the complex equation. I persisted fervently, and finally, I found the correct equation. This success motivated me to continue pushing the limits of my math knowledge. Subsequently, I was awarded my school’s Math Department Award, largely because of my passion for discovering the unknown. I didn’t stop there; I wanted to see what more I could discover. I delved into the realm of physics, writing a physics research paper on the human limit in figure skating jumps. I analyzed professional jumps, calculating momentum through angular velocity, torque, and moments of inertia. I found the approaching speed needed for the next breakthrough: 37 mph‒ nearly impossible to achieve. Even after skating for 11 years, the realization was astonishing: skating is a mastery of physics. Then I realized the entire universe is. Around now, I realized I wanted to be an astrophysicist. I worked with professionals, volunteering at an observatory, and assisting senior astronomers. I was astonished by the advanced technology that allowed observation of these shining gems light-years away. It ignited my curiosity, leading to researching Hubble's constant. I looked through thousands of data points to calculate the distances, redshift, and velocities of galaxies and to find Hubble’s constant. My background in research is an advantage I will utilize moving forward. I have experience in turning ideas into tangible products, by actively pursuing my passions. I plan to expand this and create a domino. I will take every opportunity with professors, research programs, and internships to enhance my skills. This will help me achieve my academic goals and build a solid foundation for professional development. My love for learning with my hard-working attitude empowers me to accomplish anything I set my mind on. I hope this mindset leads to benefitting the scientific field with my own discovery. I want to unlock the mysteries of black holes and dark matter to further knowledge and share the beauty of the cosmos with the world.