I started as an Information Science student at CU Boulder in Fall 2023. I was taking all of my introductory courses, and getting my general education requirements fulfilled. One of them included a media credit. For this, I took a class called "The History Of Media." I am ashamed that I thought it would be a silly, easy A. My major was programming and data-based. I surely didn't need to take The History of Media. Turns out, the History of Media is fascinating. My professor, Dr. Collette Perold, had endless passion for it. I happily completed daily reading to be able to genuinely, and thoroughly participate in class discussions. We discussed everything. From quipus, an early format of binary code, to the telegram and the pre-existing patterns that created the entire American infrastructure. It was fascinating! We even did a discussion on the development of the QWERTY keyboard, and the race for character-based languages like Chinese and Japanese to adapt to the standard QWERTY keyboard. Even without being an Information Science class, this class made me a better Information Scientist. With my new historical background in computing and the development of media technology, I was able to contribute new ideas in my other classes, like how being able to code on my laptop was ultimately because of the United States funding World War II computer development. The final for The History Of Media was a project. It wasn't a PowerPoint or a boring essay. It had to be a final product that connected to the part of history being examined. For example, one student did the development of movies and created a silent film to demonstrate. Excited about the opportunity to create something fun (and refine my web development skills) I created a final website about the United States Military's Impact on Modern Computing through the timeline of a notable woman in STEM, Grace Hopper. I wrote the website in HTML, CSS, and JS. Admiral Grace Hopper led the way for women and computing, creating the compiler and FLOW-MATIC, both of which are integral parts of modern-day computer science. I mean, the sheer idea that I could even code on my laptop was due to Grace Hopper and her team. Of course, recognizing that Grace Hopper was not the sole creator of everything positive in computer science, my website delved deep into the history of the Cold War and the technological race against the USSR to keep the United States afloat. We wouldn't even have the iPhone if the U.S. didn't fund these military computing efforts. Similarly, Hopper created the COBOL (Common Business Oriented Language) programming language, one still used today to keep business data organized. Through this website, I began to understand how computer science, and every other technological innovation, is informed by the people and history behind them. This motivated me to keep excelling in my programming classes. My History of Media projects and working in technology inspire me by connecting my work to works of the past. It takes one spark to create a wave of new technology, as seen by the ancient South American Knotting data system, the Quipu, becoming binary code, which became telegrams, which became telephones, which became the iPhone. Through studying technology's past, I aim to create a spark for the future. A future that promotes an equitable and safe internet. I fear we misconstrue computer science and technology as a creativity-less field. In reality, working in technology does the opposite for me. I have endless freedom to create new technologies, and with history and hard skills, my creativity is unstoppable.

I used to believe I was a “humanities” person. Growing up, I’d always heard the idea that you could either be “English and History Smart” or “Math and Science Smart.” An avid reader, I naturally assumed I was the former. My admiration for storytelling soon developed into an obsession with telling stories. I know, it seems like we’re all “storytellers” these days, but I tell the stories through acting. Through my first show as “Maid #2” and my latest, Shakespeare’s As You Like It, acting provided me with a heightened sense of empathy and passion for people and some handy public speaking skills. Between theater, reading, music, and a brief obsession with the Russian Royal Family, my “English and History Smart” idea was reinforced. The summer before my senior year, I applied to Kode With Klossy on a whim. The program teaches young women and nonbinary people how to code for web dev, mobile app dev, data science, and machine learning. I can confidently say their program changed my life. Through learning web and mobile app development (skills I’m using daily), KWK gave me the skills to think analytically and creatively about code. It curated the problem-solving, puzzle mindset I apply to everything I develop. It also taught me to think critically about the code that I’m writing, who it serves, and who it fails to acknowledge. Through their commitment to diversity, KWK inspired my career dedication to creating a more safe, equitable, and accessible internet for every user. Five years after I graduate from CU Boulder, I aim to continue my Information Science education through my experience in my career. I see myself being taught new things and proven wrong by my coworkers with experience, searching for every opportunity to become a better ally for internet users. Working in User Experience design is my dream. Being able to think creatively about technologically complex topics through both graphic design and code is what drove me to study Information Science at CU. Similarly, the intersection of humanity and technology has never been more important, as artificial intelligence and machine learning are on the rise, both helping and inhibiting users of these technologies. I want to be an artistic voice in the creation of products like applications and websites, but I want to be a creator and an ethicist. Today’s recommender systems create an echo chamber, a biased, not diverse population of advertisements, influencers, and false information. In five years, I’m working with a diverse team from a variety of backgrounds like tech, data science, and sociology. We’re working to remove these dark patterns of the internet, aiming to create ethical and enjoyable technology for all people. In five years, I’m responsible for the creation of new technologies that are dedicated to topics and communities I care about enriching. Through accessible user experience design, including appropriate color contrast and descriptive imaging, every product I make at this dream job is something that most users can use successfully. I also want to constantly work to create products, applications, and websites that all users can use. Regardless of the position I hold in five years, I’m learning from my peers and their diverse experiences. Front-end programming, user experience design, data analytics, website development, graphic design. Regardless of the work I do in five years, I’m creating the internet I want to see. The internet that values safety, equity, and diversity. The internet I didn’t grow up with. Upon reflection, it turns out I can be a humanities and a STEAM person. And I’m a better STEAM person because I am a humanities person, too.

I used to believe I was a “humanities” person. Growing up, I’d always heard the idea that you could either be “English and History Smart” or “Math and Science Smart.” An avid reader, I naturally assumed I was the former. My admiration for storytelling soon developed into an obsession with telling stories. I know, it seems like we’re all “storytellers” these days, but I tell the stories through acting. Through my first show as “Maid #2” and my latest, Shakespeare’s As You Like It, acting provided me with a heightened sense of empathy and passion for people, as well as some handy public speaking skills. Between theater, reading, music, and a brief obsession with the Russian Royal Family, my “English and History Smart” idea was reinforced. The summer before my senior year, I applied to Kode With Klossy on a whim. The program teaches young women how to code for web dev, mobile app dev, data science, and machine learning. I can confidently say their program changed my life. Through learning web and mobile app development (skills I’m using daily), KWK gave me the skills to think analytically and creatively about code. It curated the problem-solving, puzzle mindset I apply to everything I develop. It also taught me to think critically about the code that I’m writing, who it serves, and who it fails to acknowledge. Through their commitment to diversity, KWK inspired my career dedication to creating a more safe, equitable, and accessible internet for every user. After I graduate from CU Boulder (or while I'm here), I aim to continue my education through my experience in my career. I see myself being taught new things and proven wrong by my coworkers with experience, searching for every opportunity to become a better ally for internet users. Working in User Experience design is my dream. Being able to think creatively about technologically complex topics through both graphic design and code is what drove me to study at CU. Similarly, the intersection of humanity and technology has never been more important, as artificial intelligence and machine learning are on the rise, both helping and inhibiting users of these technologies. I want to be an artistic voice in the creation of products like applications and websites, but I want to be a creator and an ethicist. Today’s recommender systems create an echo chamber, a biased, not diverse population of advertisements, influencers, and false information. In five years, I want to work with a diverse team from a variety of backgrounds like tech, data science, and sociology. To work to remove these dark patterns of the internet, aiming to create ethical and enjoyable technology for all people. Why am I the best candidate for this scholarship? Because I can articulate my goals to people from every background, not just computer scientists. Upon reflection, it turns out I can be a humanities and a STEM person. And I’m a better STEM person because I am a humanities person, too.

I remember the name of every teacher I’ve ever had. Any year, any subject. Mrs. Vespestad and Mr. Newman prepared me for middle and high school math, knowing I would need extra support to succeed. Mr. Meisner and Mr. McGuffin unknowingly taught me how to be a good friend and create a safe place for others. Mr. Schneider and Miss Frazier taught me how to write with emotion and conviction. These people knew me for a fraction of my life and embedded knowledge and personality traits in me. The most influential of these skills were taught to me by theatre teachers. Mrs. Tomas, Mrs. Kauffman, Mrs. Walter, Mr. Scott, Miss Gentry, and Mr. J taught me to shine on stage. They gave me the confidence it takes to get through life on and off stage. Before I began theatre, I was timid. Only ever “a pleasure to have in class.” Quiet and respectful and could not talk to adults or my peers. Mrs. Tomas told sixth-grade me dressed as an 80-year-old to “be loud and don’t apologize for it.” That was when I discovered the pathway to becoming authentically, unapologetically myself. Inspiring, genuine teachers and mentors inspire me to serve my community. If one person’s lesson inspires me forever, maybe I can give that lesson to others. At the Performing Arts Academy of Colorado, I volunteered as a technical stage manager for children’s theatre productions. It was a perfect combination of the theatre skills I had, the environment I love, and community service. I stage managed for two shows, including Frozen Jr. and Aladdin Jr., in which I assisted actors in the third to eighth grades with their lines, blocking, and oversaw the use of all backstage props. Through these services, I taught almost 60 kids the importance of responsibility (how to treat other people’s things) and the value of performing. One child that I hope and believe I had a positive impact on was a third-grader named Christian. Christian played the evil villain Jafar, and despite his status as a “very important lead role,” he was an outcast among the other actors. He would sit with me backstage while I waited to open and close the curtain and tell me about his day, his favorite movies, and who was the most on his nerves. I went out of my way to talk to the kids like adults, and I wanted Christain to feel validated when he shared his feelings with me. As I got to know him better, I became upset with the other kids for making him feel socially other. Once, Christian said he needed to report another actor who would “break all of his bones.” Albeit a childish insult, I wanted to be confident he felt safe in the most inclusive place in the world, the theater. I asked him if he had informed the other adults, and he told me the directors scared him, and I listened to him the best. I informed the directors, and they had heard nothing about it until I mentioned it. While it seems silly that I impassioned myself in reporting elementary theatre bullying, that interaction made my time volunteering feel worthwhile. A child came to me with their problems because I had earned their trust and taught them to speak their emotions, a skill I only learned because of my theatre mentors. Today, I know at least one future adult out there with the skills to communicate how they feel and be authentically themselves.

I remember the name of every teacher I’ve ever had. Any year, any subject. Mrs. Vespestad and Mr. Newman prepared me for middle and high school math, knowing I would need extra support to succeed. Mr. Meisner and Mr. McGuffin unknowingly taught me how to be a good friend and create a safe place for others. Mr. Schneider and Miss Frazier taught me how to write with emotion and conviction. These people knew me for a fraction of my life and embedded knowledge and personality traits in me. The most influential of these skills were taught to me by theatre teachers. Mrs. Tomas, Mrs. Kauffman, Mrs. Walter, Mr. Scott, Miss Gentry, and Mr. J taught me to shine on stage. They gave me the confidence it takes to get through life on and off stage. Before I began theatre, I was timid. Only ever “a pleasure to have in class.” Quiet and respectful and could not talk to adults or my peers. Mrs. Tomas told sixth-grade me dressed as an 80-year-old to “be loud and don’t apologize for it.” That was when I discovered the pathway to becoming authentically, unapologetically myself. Inspiring, genuine teachers and mentors inspire me to serve my community. If one person’s lesson inspires me forever, maybe I can give that lesson to others. At the Performing Arts Academy of Colorado, I volunteered as a technical stage manager for children’s theatre productions. It was a perfect combination of the theatre skills I had, the environment I love, and community service. I stage managed for two shows, including Frozen Jr. and Aladdin Jr., in which I assisted actors in the third to eighth grades with their lines, blocking, and oversaw the use of all backstage props. Through these services, I taught almost 60 kids the importance of responsibility (how to treat other people’s things) and the value of performing. One child that I hope and believe I had a positive impact on was a third-grader named Christian. Christian played the evil villain Jafar, and despite his status as a “very important lead role,” he was an outcast among the other actors. He would sit with me backstage while I waited to open and close the curtain and tell me about his day, his favorite movies, and who was the most on his nerves. I went out of my way to talk to the kids like adults, and I wanted Christain to feel validated when he shared his feelings with me. As I got to know him better, I became upset with the other kids for making him feel socially other. Once, Christian said he needed to report another actor who would “break all of his bones.” Albeit a childish insult, I wanted to be confident he felt safe in the most inclusive place in the world, the theater. I asked him if he had informed the other adults, and he told me the directors scared him, and I listened to him the best. I informed the directors, and they had heard nothing about it until I mentioned it. While it seems silly that I impassioned myself in reporting elementary theatre bullying, that interaction made my time volunteering feel worthwhile. A child came to me with their problems because I had earned their trust and taught them to speak their emotions, a skill I only learned because of my theatre mentors. Today, I know at least one future adult out there with the skills to communicate how they feel and be authentically themselves.

Taylor Swift was the only artist I had on CD. Taylor Swift, Fearless, Speak Now, and Red filled my childhood. Living in Kansas, Swift’s country albums were a safe haven for family drives, parties, and Sunday morning cleaning sessions. She represented the bridge between my country-loving parents and the empowering music their three daughters needed to hear. Respectfully, The Zac Brown Band wasn’t as motivating to girls in the 2000s. From how people acted, I thought the world ended on the day of Taylor Swift’s 1989 release. Suddenly, "Shake It Off” was on the radio 24/7. Every family member and classmate had a new opinion on Taylor Swift’s career, morals, and attitude. Nothing they cared about when she was a CMA winner singing about pickup trucks, guitars, and Tim McGraw. I walked into third-grade hearing boys spout off: "Taylor Swift’s new song is annoying” and "I HATE Taylor Swift!” I heard this opinion frequently from men. The world ended when women started loathing Taylor Swift, and so began the "I don’t like Taylor Swift’s music” era of my life. I never bought 1989 on CD. It was "too pop.” The problem: I loved Taylor Swift’s music. "Shake It Off” was catchy, it’s a fresh representation of who Swift was at the time. Swift is human, capable of musical development and personal changes. Who were we to tell her what kind of music to make? The bigger problem: Why was I letting others tell me what music to like? Taylor Swift was right, as she tends to be. I left them to their opinions and listened to the music I wanted to hear from an artist I related to and grew up with. Because at the end of the day, "haters gonna hate” and I’m not going to change their minds. "Shake It Off” is my favorite song from Taylor Swift’s 1989 because it perfectly embodies her relationship with the media and misogyny, and the attitude I aim to have every day. I’m passionate about STEM. I took AP Statistics and AP Biology my senior year to prepare for my Information Science degree. I’ve taken classes containing ten male-identifying classmates and one woman (me). My male-identifying teachers belittled me and said I "shouldn’t cry so much” when nobody listened to my questions. When Swift gets knocked down for being a successful businesswoman and talented performer, she continues to "play, play, play” and resist their opinions, gaining more success with each album. When my classmates told me to "get back to the kitchen,” I corrected them and brushed it aside. "Haters gonna hate.” Haters hate it even more when you score higher than they do on the final because you didn’t waste time putting down others. My tears “prevented” me from learning chemistry on Zoom. They didn’t prevent me from teaching myself the material, earning a 110% in the grade book, and “getting down to this sick beat.” I was "obsessed,” "basic,” and "in a cult” for attending Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. I responded simply, "Taylor Swift is my favorite artist.” To be “basic” is to like artists, aesthetics, and ideas that countless people enjoy. I wonder why so many people are “obsessed” with a talented, confident, inspiring woman supported by her successes. I’m obsessed with Taylor Swift because she taught me how to be a woman. How to be confident without being arrogant, how to acknowledge your successes, and how to “Shake It Off” when others attempt to stifle your happiness.