I vividly remember my dad sitting beside me, overcome with joy after seeing Wicked for the fifth time that month. In that dim theater, I didn’t just see a movie, I watched my dad become a kid again. Some might call it excessive. I call it devotion. His love continues now, especially with the anticipation surrounding its sequel. From playing the soundtrack on nearly every car ride to school to pretending he had luscious locks like Glinda and dramatically performing the signature “toss, toss,” Wicked has become more than a show in our house. It became a shared language. While Wicked is widely celebrated as a story about prejudice and misunderstood identities, to me it tells a quieter story, one about friendship and the unexpected places we find it. It taught me that perspective shapes both villains and relationships. My connection to the story, however, did not begin in that theater. I have always loved The Wizard of Oz and its abstract, seemingly mismatched characters who somehow fit together perfectly. In my youth, I attended high school productions that brought the world of Oz to life in different ways. Eventually, I found myself sitting in Heinz Hall with my mom, watching the story of the so-called “Wicked Witch of the West” unfold on stage. Even before the cinematic experience, the Broadway production taught me something lasting: authenticity matters. Elphaba’s refusal to shrink herself for the comfort of others felt familiar. As a young adult with big ideas and strong opinions, I saw in her what I was still learning to accept in myself: that being different does not make you wrong. It makes you powerful. Although many families experience Wicked together, I was able to connect with each of my parents in distinct ways through it. My dad expressed his love through emotion and playful devotion; my mom through thoughtful conversation about the show’s deeper meanings and craftsmanship. Even during seasons of life that felt divided or busy, Wicked remained something that brought us back together. To many, Wicked is simply a retelling of a villain’s story. To me, it is a reminder that perspective shapes everything, in art, in people, and in relationships. It has taught me that sometimes the misunderstood girl is just misunderstood, and sometimes the person sitting beside you in a dark theater is shaping who you are, becoming more than you realize.

The sun rises and sets daily; as a child, I never questioned this event, and as I grow into a young adult, how rarely do I contemplate it? Besides, we can all still tell when it will shine bright and become dim outside from a simple internet search. When we look into our homes, the light, heat, and resources that run our lives provide for us all year long, even when the world around our homes fades to darkness. We have light by just flicking a switch and heat by hitting a few buttons, this practice has been instilled in us the same way dawn and dusk have since childhood. Growing up in separate homes with separate personalities can show you different viewpoints and ways of doing tasks. At my mother’s, we like to leave any lights on that create a cozy and comfortable feeling. Leaving on lights while not in rooms for a few minutes is beyond normal practice, completely contrasting with my father’s home. From the time I could reach a light switch, I would walk into a room, turn the light on, and complete or obtain whatever I needed. Once I walked out of the room briefly, I heard a "click" immediately, and then, turning around, I would look up at my father in disbelief at how quickly he made his point of turning off the lights when not using them. My father still practices this, continually making me further acknowledge it. This quirk about him truly opens my eyes to how familiar we are with the resources electricity holds at our fingertips. Nonetheless, just if our pantry is running low on the food we need, why don’t we manage to think about our electricity the same way? In early middle school, I became intrigued about where our electricity came from and how the whole process functioned. Lots of us were given opportunities to debate between different types of renewable and non-renewable energies by researching and learning how they worked. As a student not fond of 'arguing' or fully using my opinion against another, I became extremely passionate about the topic and prepared a well-researched debate. Roughly a year later, the opportunity came to me to participate in what is known as "KidWind." This competition features students building miniature wind turbines and then producing a presentation to share with engineers and experts in electrical careers. This year, my team and I will participate in KidWind Worlds after roughly two years of vigorous work and dedication to learning, problem-solving, and researching renewable energy. Throughout this experience, I gained the opportunity to meet and interview companies and CEOs, which gave me an even better understanding of real-world use and expectations. I've become passionate about energy and have realized how most of us are blind to its powerful use. Many of the people I talk to are less focused on the future of our world but rather on their personal lives. The next generation to come will be faced with formidable tasks and choices to form if electricity continues to be a dying resource. Just as we rely on our electricity, like the sunrise and sunset, we need prominent people to advocate the luxury we can only have for a limited time.