When I was about 17, I found my brother in the kitchen making funnel cakes. My brother is definitely the chef of the family, always coming up with new things to make. He had the batter in a plastic ketchup bottle (probably one of my dad's, who likes to barbecue and make his own sauce), and hot oil in a pot on the stove. Now, like any normal siblings, we fought a lot, about all kinds of stuff. But for once we were getting along! He showed me how he was carefully squeeze out the batter into the oil, in lots of swirls and loops. When he did it, the oil bubbled nicely, and the batter turned gold and delicious looking. Of course, I wanted to try to make my own. When I took a turn, I started my own round of loops and swirls of batter into the hot oil. But suddenly, the batter wouldn't come out. So I squeezed…and squeezed…and squeezed. Until the lid of that plastic ketchup bottle flew right off--into the hot oil, sending it splashing up on me and brother. But this is a story about my mom. My brother and I screamed, of course, as the oil went up my arm, chin and legs, and onto my brother's shirt and arms. We screamed for my mother, who was in her room, across the house. But she didn't come running. She came out slowly, observing what the commotion was before saying anything. She got my brother to her bathroom sink, and put me right in the tub, clothes and all, right under the cold running water. My burns were severe enough that we had to go to the doctor, although thankfully they left no majors scars. But I learned more than just caution around oil. I learned from my mom's reaction. My mother taught me patience and calm in an emergency. She taught me how to slow down, and deal with the situation at hand. While I was freaking out about spilling oil, and potentially scarring not only myself, but also my younger brother, she saw the practical solution despite the panic. My mom taught me, a very detailed oriented person, how to look at the bigger picture, and get through even the most stressful of situations. This scholarship would allow me to practice the things that she taught me in my academic career. It’s reflected in my area of study, anthropology, which is all about looking at culture at different scales and from different perspectives. My mother's model of patience and composure aided me as I went through the rigorous process of designing a dissertation project. My research focuses on food and how people are cooking it in their kitchens--the methods and physical techniques and experiences that go into creating a good meal. This might be surprising, considering the story I opened this essay with. But the kitchen remains a place of learning for me, despite the fact that food is not an inexpensive commodity. These funds would be used to directly fund the food that is being prepared as I conduct my research, allowing me to work with people in their kitchens. This would also honor the time they are taking to cook and talk with me. This fund will help me to establish myself not only as a researcher, but as someone who gives back to her community. I want to challenge myself to preserve through this research process growing as a researcher, a cook, and a person, all at the same time.