Ever since I was young, I was captivated by solving a problem. My mom would frequently find my toddler self hitting the toilet with a toy hammer while yelling “I’m fixing it, momma!” This habit continued and only became more passionate as I grew older. In math classes, I would attempt to solve problems differently than my teacher and my peers. In PE, I would always find the sneakiest way to move around the court or pull trick plays in kickball. I loved doing things as unique as possible, no matter what weird looks I got or the mean words I heard. The idea of finding creative solutions was present in all facets of my life, but it was never as fiery as it was in history class. Throughout my education, I was privileged enough to have history teachers that encouraged the creative behavior I vehemently showed every chance I could. Specifically, in my junior year, my college U.S. history teacher motivated me to take the initiative to research on my own and discover the intricacies and nuances history brings. I took him up on this offer and do not regret my decision in the slightest. My journey took me far beyond U.S. history with countries like South Korea and China especially piquing my interest. Learning about events like the Gwangju Uprising in South Korea and the Tiananmen Square Massacre in China only fanned the flames of my passion for history. I was unbearable to my friends and family during this time, because I could not stop talking about my new findings of the week. I would boast about the achievements of Admiral Yi Sun-sin or rant about what caused the fall of the Roman Empire. My thirst for learning history was unquenchable and drove me to choose a career as a foreign service officer. I found my history niche with political movements throughout the 20th century and, with it, a love for foreign diplomacy. I had always been aware of the power the U.S. held after World War II, but never knew the extent of how we used that power to serve our interests. After doing a research paper on the Gwangju Uprising, I found out that the U.S. played a vital role by enabling the Korean dictatorship to commit atrocities on its citizens. A topic that I was seemingly knowledgeable of was much more nuanced and involved than I presumed. Furthermore, I discovered America’s role in the Indonesian Communist Genocide, an event that I had previously known nothing about, with millions of American dollars going to support a tyrannical murderous government ravaging the countryside. I was in a state of disbelief. How much did I truly know? Topic after topic surfaced, and I began to question whether a mini-information war was occurring right on my computer. How could it be that so many impactful historical events flew under my radar for so long? Why was it that I had to scour declassified telegram after telegram to find the answers? It was then, I knew what I had to do. I had to be at the frontlines of foreign policy. I had to work my way to a position where I could make the right decisions. I refused to witness repeated errors of the past. I was going to make the change the world needed.