I lower the needle and brace for the music. For years, I've fallen asleep to the sound of my turntable spinning my records. My mind will race, associating lyrics and melodies with emotions and memories. My grandmother recently passed from ALS. Now, whenever I listen to Frank Sinatra’s “That’s Life” I'm rocketed back to our time together. “Ol’ Blue Eyes,” her computer spoke, tracking her eyes’ movement. That computer and record player were our only connections, comforting us in the face of life taking its course. Led Zeppelin's “Over the Hills and Far Away” reminds me of when it was playing during a ride to the food pantry. A feeling of helplessness filled my gut as I worried about the problem of food insecurity. But, I took solace in the fact that I was trying. Some nights I would fall asleep to Rush. “Working Man” reminds me of my dad. He has always been a do-it-yourself guy. I had been reluctantly repairing our car’s headlight, when he walked by and sternly announced, “Our problems are ours to solve,” before leaving me in silence. It was through these songs that I was able to piece together who I am. I’ve seen the power of technology in the face of death. My own self-respect is derived from trying to change the world. My father’s words echo every time I'm tempted to wait for someone else to solve a problem. So as I go off to college, I go knowing I can't live life without improving it. I have a calling, a need to help make the world a better place through technology. I want to be able to see the intimidating world and still have the strength to do something about it.