“Lighting the Way: From My Neighborhood to the Energy Workforce” I will never forget the summer our air conditioner broke during a Houston heatwave. My family, like many in underserved neighborhoods, had no choice but to rely on fans and frozen washcloths to survive. I watched my younger siblings cling to the cool kitchen tiles, exhausted and sweating, while my mother fanned us with whatever she could find. In that moment, I realized that energy is not just a convenience, it's a lifeline. Access to reliable power affects health, education, and safety, and the lack of it can create barriers that ripple through entire communities. From that day forward, I became determined to dedicate my future to improving energy access and sustainability for families like mine. Growing up in Third Ward, I saw firsthand how energy inequities shape daily life. Students struggled to focus on homework in overheated homes. Families worried about spoiled food, medicine storage, and the cost of running appliances. These challenges were not abstract; they were real obstacles that affected learning, health, and opportunity. Experiencing these realities inspired me to pursue solutions that make a tangible difference, solutions that combine practical problem-solving with compassion for the people they impact. During high school, I sought opportunities that would prepare me to address such challenges while giving back to my community. At Texas Children’s Palm Center, I greeted patients, stocked exam rooms, answered phones, and assisted staff, learning the importance of organization, reliability, and teamwork. Leading service projects like the Princess Project and Reach Out and Read taught me how guidance and support can empower others, whether by helping young girls attend prom or encouraging children to develop literacy skills. Each of these experiences reinforced my understanding that even small acts of leadership can create lasting change. I am drawn to the energy workforce because it combines technical innovation with community impact. I want to contribute to projects that deliver reliable, sustainable energy to communities where access has historically been limited. I envision designing solutions that reduce energy costs, improve efficiency, and support renewable initiatives, ensuring that families can study, cook, and stay safe without the constant stress of unreliable power. My goal is not just to engineer systems but to listen to communities, understanding their needs and tailoring solutions that empower them to thrive. Entering this field represents the intersection of my personal experiences, my education, and my commitment to service. That summer in Houston, when my siblings lay exhausted on the kitchen floor, is the reason I am determined to make a change. I want to transform the obstacles I faced into opportunities for others, ensuring no child struggles to study because of heat, no family suffers from unreliable power, and no community is left behind. Energy is more than electricity or cooling systems; it is the foundation for growth, learning, and resilience. By dedicating myself to the energy workforce, I hope to light the way for communities like mine, transforming everyday challenges into solutions that uplift and empower.

Growing up in Houston’s Third Ward, I learned early that giving wasn’t just reserved for the holidays it was a way of life. My parents made sure of that. I was ten the first time I handed out socks to people experiencing homelessness. I complained at first, wanting to stay home with my video games. But then I saw the look on a man’s face as he pulled a fresh pair over tired, swollen feet. That small moment became my first lesson in compassion and in how simple acts of kindness can leave a lasting impact. Since then, being part of a community rooted in service has shaped both my sense of purpose and my vision for the future. One of my proudest contributions has been through Reach Out and Read, an early literacy program I led at a pediatric clinic in my neighborhood. At first, I thought I was just helping children pass the time while they waited for checkups. But I quickly realized I was stepping into a much bigger gap. Many of these children didn’t own books, struggled with basic literacy, or lacked someone to read with them. Some couldn’t even recognize letters. They weren’t just behind they were being left behind. Determined to do more, I redesigned the clinic’s reading program. I introduced interactive storytelling, created a “Reading Buddy” model that paired older youth with younger readers, and organized book drives to get hundreds of books into children’s homes. By 2025, 427 children had committed to reading at least 20 minutes a day through our efforts. Parents told me their children were finally excited to read at home, and teachers reported better classroom engagement. I’ll never forget six-year-old Anaya. When we met, she barely spoke above a whisper and wouldn’t make eye contact. But after weeks of reading together, she proudly finished The Snowy Day and whispered, “I want to be like you when I grow up.” That one sentence changed everything for me. It reminded me that giving isn’t just about what you offer, it’s about what you inspire in others. Then there was Jamal, a third grader who struggled with fluency and confidence. Every week, we worked together reading aloud, laughing at silly rhymes, and celebrating small wins. One day, he came running into the clinic, waving his test results. “I got a B!” he shouted, his face glowing with pride. Moments like that have become the heartbeat of my purpose. Beyond literacy, my service has extended to those without stable housing. I’ve handed out hygiene kits, volunteered at shelters, and heard stories of resilience from people whose needs are often ignored. One woman told me how she hadn’t felt clean or safe in over a year. Her words, simple but raw, reminded me why community matters. We are responsible for one another. These experiences strengthened my hope for the future and helped define the kind of future I want to build. Today, I’m studying Environmental Engineering with a concentration in public policy because I want to solve the systemic issues that keep communities like mine from thriving issues like climate injustice, unsafe infrastructure, and poor air quality. My goal is to launch a minority woman-owned engineering firm that not only builds sustainable infrastructure in underserved areas but also trains young people from those neighborhoods to do the same. To me, the spirit of giving means showing up. It means using your gifts, education, and heart to serve others and building a future where kindness is the blueprint. Community has shown me that resilience grows when we connect, and hope multiplies when we give.

“Breaking In, Standing Out” I didn’t choose engineering; engineering chose me the moment the AC in our Third Ward apartment broke during a brutal Houston summer. Sweat-soaked and frustrated, I remember asking my mom, “Why can’t someone fix this so it never happens again?” Her answer was simple: “Maybe one day, you will.” That “maybe” became a mission. I’m now a student at the University of Texas at Austin, majoring in environmental engineering—driven by a deep desire to address environmental challenges that disproportionately affect marginalized communities like the one I grew up in. Whether it's extreme heat, poor infrastructure, or lack of clean water, I’m determined to engineer solutions that are equitable, sustainable, and community-focused. But this journey hasn’t been smooth. At UT Austin, I’m often the only woman of color in the room. It’s a strange, isolating feeling to be present but overlooked. One time, in a group project for an advanced engineering course, my teammates "accidentally" left me out of the group chat. They claimed it was a simple oversight, but somehow, everyone else got the memo. I had two options: stay silent or step up. So, I emailed the professor, got reassigned, and ended up leading a new group that earned the highest project score in the class. That was the first time I truly realized: I don’t just belong, I can lead. I’ve also had to work outside of school to support myself, juggling late-night shifts and early-morning labs. While others attended office hours or formed study groups, I was folding towels at a pet resort or counting tips from a weekend shift. Exhausting? Yes. But it taught me resilience, time management, and how to advocate for myself in spaces where I wasn’t always seen. Being the “first,” the “only,” or the “different one” isn’t easy. I’ve faced professors who questioned my understanding before I even spoke. I’ve dealt with classmates who underestimated me—until I proved them wrong. And I’ve battled imposter syndrome, whispering that maybe I didn’t belong here after all. But every late night spent studying, every class where I raised my hand anyway, and every “A” I earned felt like pushing open a door that wasn’t meant for me, but now is. My goal isn’t just to build bridges and water systems—it’s to build representation. I want young Black and brown girls to look at engineers and see someone who looks like them. I hope to one day launch a woman-led environmental engineering firm focused on sustainability in underserved communities. But before that, I want to mentor, intern, and learn from those already creating change in this space. To me, engineering isn’t just math and science, it’s a form of justice. It’s how I advocate for communities like mine, where broken systems have been accepted for far too long. It’s the blueprint for a future where no one gets left out simply because of where they live or what they look like. I may be the only one in the room right now—but I won’t be the last. I’m holding the door open, so the next generation of girls who look like me won’t just enter the room, ” they’ll lead it.”

“Rooted in Resilience, Growing Through Purpose” I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon. I grew up with a sense of responsibility, a deep curiosity, and a desire to make things better for myself, my family, and my community. My name is Emerie McCann, and I’m an environmental engineering major at the University of Texas at Austin. I am a product of the Third Ward in Houston, raised by a single mother who showed me that strength isn’t always loud—it’s consistent, compassionate, and grounded in purpose. From a young age, I noticed the cracks—literally and metaphorically—in my environment. Sidewalks would buckle under the heat, water pressure was unreliable, and air conditioning was often a luxury rather than a given. These weren’t just minor inconveniences; they were daily reminders that underserved communities like mine are often overlooked when it comes to infrastructure and access. But instead of letting those conditions limit me, I let them spark my imagination. What if I could change this? What if I could design systems that didn’t fail the people who needed them most? My passion for environmental engineering was born not from a science fair or a classroom, but from lived experience. Watching my community wrestle with broken systems, both mechanical and social lit a fire in me. I didn’t want to just survive the world I was handed. I wanted to rebuild it smarter. More sustainably. More equitably. Overcoming selective mutism as a child taught me that power doesn’t come from always speaking the loudest—it comes from using your voice when it counts. And now, I use mine to mentor younger students, lead literacy programs at Texas Children’s Palm Center, and speak on student panels about navigating college as a first-generation, low-income student of color. I also serve as president of the Society of Women Engineers at my high school alma mater and continue to mentor young Black girls pursuing STEM. Service isn’t something I do—it’s who I am. It’s been shaped by watching my mother give even when she had little, by seeing my siblings push through challenges, and by experiencing the quiet dignity of people who persevere without applause. These examples taught me that leadership is not about being in charge. It’s about showing up, being accountable, and lifting others as you climb. At UT Austin, I’m gaining the technical skills and real-world exposure I need to transform my vision into action. I’ve learned that engineering is more than calculations and code. It’s about understanding people, environments, and systems well enough to design solutions that last. My degree in environmental engineering will serve as the foundation for my long-term goal: to start a woman-led engineering firm focused on creating sustainable infrastructure for marginalized communities across Texas and beyond. But I don’t want to just build things, I want to build legacies. I want to design cooling systems that keep families safe during heatwaves, water systems that don’t fail in storms, and schools that feel like safe havens, not ticking time bombs. I want to create internship pipelines for young students of color who need someone to believe in them. I want to hire locally, mentor fiercely, and lead with empathy. What drives me is the belief that no one’s zip code should determine their quality of life. With the education and experiences I’m gaining at UT Austin, I will help engineer not just systems, but equity, opportunity, and hope.

1. About Me and What Motivates Me My name is Emerie McCann, and I’m majoring in Environmental Engineering at UT Austin. I grew up in Houston’s Third Ward, where heat waves knocked out our power, storms flooded the streets, and safe water wasn’t always a given. I didn’t grow up thinking I’d be an engineer, but I did grow up knowing something needed to change. I live with selective mutism. For most of my life, speaking in public was something I avoided—not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because my body just wouldn’t let the words come out. It made school hard. Group work harder. But it also made me notice everything: patterns, problems, and people who get overlooked, just like I did. What motivates me isn’t competition or status. It’s the idea that I can create something that helps someone, such as designing a cooling center that keeps the elderly safe during heat waves, or working on water filtration systems that serve low-income neighborhoods. If I could do anything, I’d start my own sustainable engineering company led solely by women. We’d focus on environmental justice, training youth in STEM, and building solutions by and for the communities most affected. I’ve found ways to use my quiet strength as a leader. I don’t need to be the loudest person in the room to make a difference. I just need to show up with purpose—and that’s exactly what I plan to keep doing. 2. What Excites Me About STEM and the Power of Tech When I was younger, I didn’t know what STEM was. I just knew our AC broke all the time, our street flooded even with light rain, and no one ever explained why. I’d sit at the window during storms, wondering how to fix things I didn’t yet understand. Now I’m an Environmental Engineering student at UT Austin, and I know—STEM is how you fix things. That’s what excites me. It’s not just science in a lab or coding on a screen. It’s hands-on. It’s how we design safer cities, cleaner water systems, and tech that actually listens to the people it’s supposed to help. Information technology, especially, has changed how I see the world. With the right data, we can predict floods, track energy usage, and give communities early warnings about dangerous conditions. IT can close gaps—not just in communication, but in justice. Because I have selective mutism, technology was one of the first ways I could express myself freely. It made me feel powerful in a world where I often felt voiceless. That’s part of why I care so much about building tech that’s accessible and ethical. I want to be someone who designs systems that give people back control, especially those in underserved neighborhoods who are used to being left out of the conversation. Technology alone isn’t the answer—but in the right hands, it becomes a tool for change. I want to be one of those hands. 3. My Greatest Challenge and What It Taught Me Growing up with selective mutism meant I spent most of school silently watching everyone else answer questions, laugh out loud, and take up space. I wanted to join in—I really did—but something inside just froze every time someone looked at me and expected words. It was lonely. People thought I was shy or stuck-up. I wasn’t. I just couldn’t talk. Not in class. Not at lunch. Not even when I had something to say. But I learned how to adapt. I started writing more. Volunteering in ways that didn’t require speaking. I found teachers who gave me room to contribute in different ways. And over time, I got better at advocating for myself—even if my voice still shook or my sentences came out short. One of my biggest breakthroughs came in college. At UT, I pushed myself to take on leadership roles, such as group projects in engineering or even speaking on panels. I still get nervous. But I’ve learned I don’t have to be loud to be heard. That experience taught me patience, resilience, and how to lead from a place of understanding. I notice when others feel out of place or overlooked, because I’ve been there. And I make space for them. Overcoming selective mutism didn’t just help me speak. It helped me see what people needed. That’s why I want to build safer, more inclusive spaces through engineering. I’ve learned how to find my voice. Now I want to use it to help others find theirs too.

“Please say one word to me, spit it out!” By: Emerie McCann There I was, a five-year-old me, sitting as still as possible on my round, black stool at Kumon, an accelerated mathematics and reading program. My cheeks grew hot, turning a blotchy shade of red as sweat slowly trickled down my skin. My instructor's stare mimicked a massive spotlight as she waited for me to speak, momentarily blinding me and causing me to freeze. She sweetened the deal by offering me 20 extra Kumon bucks, a currency we used to purchase prizes after each lesson. While I was intrigued by her proposal, I simply couldn’t just “spit it out.” I remained captive in my own silence, feeling trapped behind an invisible forcefield, my vocal cords straining, preventing me from speaking. Throughout my adolescence, this feeling only intensified. I was soon diagnosed with Selective Mutism, an anxiety disorder characterized by an inability to speak in certain social settings. The doctor recommended that my mother encourage me to engage in activities that would push me beyond my comfort zone. Initially, I believed she merely enrolled me in a variety of activities to alleviate my boredom. However, I soon found a passion in two areas: dance and STEM activities. Both the art of dance and the science of engineering provided outlets and alternative ways for me to express myself. These activities gradually reshaped my behavioral patterns. My once-muted voice transformed into a whisper, and from there, it blossomed into a voice filled with modesty and confidence. With support from my parents, teachers, and therapy, I gradually learned to overcome the inability to just “spit it out.” I found myself becoming more involved at school, not only in class discussions but also in social situations. I began running for leadership positions, advocating for myself, and most importantly, interacting with others—something I struggled with for years prior. As I immersed myself in these activities, I began to find my voice—first as a whisper, then with growing confidence and conviction. I emerged from my shell, engaging more actively in school, advocating for myself, and embracing leadership opportunities. The journey was not easy, but with each step forward, I gained momentum and resilience. Today, when others look at me and see how far I have come, they are amazed. That once timid, red-headed, introverted adolescent is now Valedictorian, Class of 2024 Vice President, Student Ambassador, National Honor Society member, and has over 500+ community service hours. I've learned that if you believe in yourself, all things are possible. I am proud to say that I am now able to “Spit it Out!”

It was a rainy afternoon when I found myself on the highway, driving home after a long day. Suddenly, the car in front of me slammed on its brakes, and in that split second, my heart raced. But before I could even react, my car gently applied the brakes for me, coming to a complete stop just inches from the vehicle ahead. My car had done the work for me, thanks to the safety precautions built into modern vehicles. The technology that inspired me that day was the advanced safety features in newer cars, especially automatic emergency braking systems. This technology has evolved over the years, becoming a lifeline for drivers, especially in stressful situations. It's a testament to how far we’ve come in integrating safety into everyday life, making a significant impact on reducing accidents and saving lives. Automatic emergency braking, lane-keeping assist, adaptive cruise control, and collision warning systems are now standard in many new cars. These systems work by using sensors, cameras, and radar to detect potential hazards and either warn the driver or take action autonomously. The real magic lies in how these technologies work together seamlessly, like a well-trained co-pilot, to keep drivers safe, even when they might not be fully aware of the danger. These technologies are crucial because they address the human limitations that can contribute to accidents, such as distractions, fatigue, and slow reaction times. Studies have shown that cars equipped with these advanced safety features significantly reduce the risk of collisions. According to the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, vehicles with automatic emergency braking systems can reduce rear-end crashes by up to 50%. As a society, we rely on cars for daily transportation, but with that comes the responsibility to make driving safer. The integration of these technologies is a reminder that innovation can address real-world problems. It's comforting to know that with each passing year, the technology in our cars is becoming more advanced, not just to improve driving comfort, but to actively protect us and our loved ones. In a world where accidents can happen in the blink of an eye, it’s reassuring to know that technology is on our side, working tirelessly to make the roads safer for everyone.

Dream Big and Go Make a Difference By :Emerie McCann "Why are you forcing me to do this?" I often asked in a reluctant voice. From a young age, my parents encouraged us to volunteer. It’s a family tradition that exposed us to various cultures and instilled in me a deep appreciation for giving back to the community. As I grew older, I derived a sense of purpose from helping others. A few years ago, I began volunteering for a local clinic's early literacy program, "Reach Out and Read." This program emphasizes reading to children in underserved areas to break the stigma imposed by economic gaps in minority communities. As the lead volunteer, I immersed myself in this program, spending countless hours outside of school coming up with creative ways to help these children enjoy reading. My activities often took them out of their comfort zones, citing words from a story we had just read or acting out a particular character in a book. Each day that I dedicated my time to seeing these little ones excel brought me joy and extreme gratitude. Last year, national tests revealed a significant disparity in reading proficiency: only 18% of Black 4th graders scored proficient or above, compared to 45% of White 4th graders. This alarming gap motivated me to take further action. I started increasing my volunteer hours focusing on empowering these students through more educational support and resources. The primary challenge was addressing this educational inequality and bringing the community together to tackle it collectively. By organizing tutoring sessions, collaborating with local schools, and most importantly engaging parents, we worked to ensure that every child, regardless of their skin color or community, had the resources they needed to excel academically. Through these efforts, we aimed to unite the community in the shared goal of closing the achievement gap and fostering a supportive environment for all students. Reflecting on my time with the students, I have encouraged, cheered, motivated, and influenced over 368 children to read at least 20 minutes a day. Assuming the lead role in such an important endeavor resulted in increased academic achievement and test scores. Most importantly, I observed newfound confidence on the faces of these fascinating children. I am that leader who believes in them and encourages them. To see someone who looks like them become an AP scholar, valedictorian of her class, and now headed to college is an example that if you believe in yourself, there is no limit to your success. One particularly memorable moment I would like to share was when Ciara, a shy little girl who initially struggled with reading, confidently read an entire book aloud to the group after weeks of practice. Her smile and the applause from her peers were unforgettable, highlighting the significant impact of patience, encouragement, and dedication. Volunteering has taught me the value of empathy, leadership, and dedication. These experiences have prepared me for my future educational journey by helping me develop crucial skills such as effective communication, problem-solving, and project management. Working closely with diverse groups has underscored the importance of inclusivity and understanding different perspectives. As I continue striving toward my goals, I am driven by my motto: “Dream Big, and Go Make a Difference!”

Dream Big, and Go Make a Difference From a young age, my parents instilled in me the importance of community service, a value deeply rooted in our family tradition. Volunteering has always been a significant part of my life, helping me to understand and appreciate the diverse cultures within our community. This sense of purpose I found in helping others has shaped who I am today and driven my passion for community involvement. A few years ago, I began volunteering at a local clinic's early literacy program, "Reach Out and Read." This program focuses on promoting literacy among children in underserved areas, aiming to bridge the educational gaps in minority communities. As the lead volunteer, I dedicated countless hours to developing creative ways to make reading enjoyable for the children. Whether it was acting out characters from a book or engaging them in interactive storytelling, I strived to make each session impactful and fun. Over time, my efforts have encouraged more than 368 children to read at least 20 minutes a day. This commitment has led to noticeable improvements in their academic achievements and test scores. More importantly, I’ve seen a boost in their confidence, knowing that someone believes in their potential. Being an AP scholar, class valedictorian, and now a college-bound student, I serve as a role model, demonstrating that with belief in oneself, there are no limits to what can be achieved. One particularly memorable moment was when Ciara, a shy girl who initially struggled with reading, confidently read an entire book aloud to the group after weeks of practice. Her smile and the applause from her peers were unforgettable, reinforcing the significant impact of patience, encouragement, and dedication. Volunteering has not only taught me empathy, leadership, and dedication but also equipped me with vital skills such as effective communication, problem-solving, and project management. These experiences have prepared me for my future educational journey and have solidified my commitment to continue serving my community. My motto is to “Dream Big, and Go Make a Difference.” Post-college, I plan to sustain my community involvement by pursuing a career where I can continue making a positive impact, particularly in environmental engineering. I envision working on projects that address environmental challenges in underserved communities, ensuring a healthier and more sustainable future for all. As someone of Haitian descent, this commitment to service is deeply personal. My heritage has taught me the importance of resilience and community support. I am driven to honor this legacy by giving back and helping others overcome the obstacles they face. Through continued community involvement, I aim to inspire and uplift others, just as my parents and my culture have inspired and uplifted me.

Why did the math book look so sad? Because it had too many problems! But don’t worry, my love for math is anything but sad. In fact, it’s full of joy, laughter, and a few well-placed puns. Yes, I love math, and I’m here to tell you why it’s both hilarious and crucial to our lives. First off, math is like the ultimate puzzle game. Imagine solving Sudoku, but instead of just filling in numbers, you’re uncovering the secrets of the universe. Each problem is a riddle waiting to be solved, and every solution brings that satisfying “aha” moment. Plus, you can impress your friends by solving complex equations at lightning speed—talk about a superpower! Now, let's talk about those beautiful, quirky patterns. Have you ever noticed how nature loves math? Pineapples, sunflowers, and pine cones all follow the Fibonacci sequence. Even the universe has a sense of humor! And don't get me started on fractals—those infinitely complex patterns that look the same no matter how much you zoom in. They’re like nature’s doodles, and they prove that even the cosmos loves a good laugh. Math is also the secret sauce behind all our favorite things. Love baking cookies? Math helps you get those measurements just right (because too much baking soda is no joke). Enjoy watching sports? Statistics and probabilities make the games more exciting. And let’s not forget the magic of compound interest, which makes our savings grow—slowly but surely—like a well-watered plant. But the best part? Math makes us smarter. It teaches us to think logically, solve problems, and see patterns in chaos. It’s like brain exercise, but without the sweatbands and gym fees. So, the next time someone asks why you’re smiling at a calculus textbook, tell them math is your ticket to fun, knowledge, and maybe even a bit of world domination. In conclusion, math is not just about numbers; it’s a delightful mix of puzzles, patterns, and practical applications. It’s everywhere, making our lives easier and more interesting. And who knows? With a little math, you might just solve the biggest puzzle of all: how to make everyone love math as much as you do.

From Fear to Function: My Calculus Journey Calculus: a word that strikes fear into the hearts of students everywhere. Just hearing it used to make me break out in a cold sweat. Calculus is a branch of mathematics that studies change, a field filled with mysterious symbols and complex equations that can make your head spin faster than a roller coaster. It involves concepts like limits, derivatives, and integrals, and it’s essential for anyone entering the STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) field. But let me tell you a little story about my tumultuous relationship with calculus. Picture this: the first day of calculus class. I walked in, armed with a shiny new notebook and a head full of optimism. The teacher began scribbling on the board, talking about limits, continuity, and something called epsilon-delta proofs. Within minutes, I felt like I was being transported to a different dimension, one where English was replaced by mathematical hieroglyphics. I would stare into space, trying to grasp even a sliver of understanding, but it was like trying to open a jar of pickles after I just put lotion onto my legs. To say calculus was challenging is an understatement. Some days, I would sit in class, nodding along like I understood everything, while my brain was elsewhere. My teacher’s voice became a soothing background hum, perfect for daydreaming about simpler times when math involved straightforward numbers and basic operations. Despite these struggles, I knew deep down that calculus was important. Calculus is the mathematical backbone of the STEM field. It’s used to model real-world phenomena, optimize processes, and solve problems that are otherwise unsolvable. Engineers use calculus to design everything from bridges to microchips. Physicists use it to understand the fundamental laws of the universe. Even economists use it to predict market trends. In short, if you’re planning to do anything remotely scientific or technical, calculus is your best friend, whether you like it or not. After months of struggling and countless hours spent in the math lab, a funny thing happened. One day, as my teacher was explaining the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus, something clicked. It was like a light bulb went off in my head. Suddenly, the equations didn’t seem so alien. The limits and derivatives began to make sense. I started to see how everything fit together, like the pieces of a puzzle. Now, I won’t lie and say that calculus became my favorite subject overnight. But I did begin to appreciate it. Calculus is like a powerful language that allows us to describe and understand the world in a way that’s both precise and profound. At first, it’s awkward and frustrating, but with practice, you start to get it! Today, I’m more confident in calculus. I can tackle integrals and derivatives with the best of them. I’ve come to realize that the struggle was worth it. Calculus has opened doors for me in the STEM field that I never thought possible. It has taught me to think critically and solve complex problems, skills that are invaluable no matter what career path I choose. In conclusion, calculus is an essential part of the STEM field. It’s a challenging subject that can leave you staring into space in bewilderment, but it’s also incredibly rewarding. It teaches you to understand and model the world in ways you never imagined. So, to all the future calculus students out there: don’t give up. Embrace the struggle, because on the other side, there’s a world of possibilities waiting for you. And who knows, you might even start to enjoy it.

Please say one word to me, spit it out! By: Emerie McCann There I was, a five-year-old me, sitting as still as possible in my round, black stool at Kumon, an accelerated mathematics and reading program. My cheeks grew hot, turning a blotchy shade of red as sweat slowly trickled down my skin. My instructor's stare mimicked a massive spotlight as she waited for me to speak, momentarily blinding me and causing me to freeze. She sweetened the deal by offering me 20 extra Kumon bucks, a currency we used to purchase prizes after each lesson. While I was intrigued by her proposal, I simply couldn’t just “spit it out.” I remained captive in my own silence. I often compared this feeling to being trapped behind an invisible forcefield, my vocal cords straining, preventing me from communicating with the world. Throughout my adolescence, this feeling only continued to increase. I was soon diagnosed with Selective Mutism, an anxiety disorder characterized by individuals not being able to speak in social settings. With support from my parents, teachers, and therapist, I was gradually able to overcome the inability to just “spit it out.” Through this challenging time in my life, I relied on five prerequisites that guided my path to success. They were faith, strength, perseverance, determination, and most importantly belief in myself. Believing in myself formed the foundation for the pursuit of excellence; fostering a positive mindset, empowering me to overcome obstacles and achieve success. I soon began becoming more involved at school, not only in class discussions but also in social situations. I began running for leadership positions, advocating for myself, and surprisingly interacting with others, a task I struggled with for many years prior. When others look at me today and see how far I have come, they are amazed. That once timid, red-headed introverted adolescent, is now valedictorian, class of 2024 vice president, community leader, and a student ambassador. What a major milestone! The adversity of Selective Mutism taught me the value of persistence and self-belief. Overcoming my silence wasn't an overnight success but a journey of small victories and continuous effort. Each step forward, whether speaking up in class or running for a leadership position, built my confidence and resilience. These experiences shaped me into someone who not only faces challenges head-on but also thrives in overcoming them. In the Fall of 2024, I will be attending the University of Texas at Austin with the goal of earning a bachelor's degree in Environmental Engineering. As an environmental engineer, I will utilize my college education to achieve my personal goals and continue to strive for excellence. However, this would not be possible, had I not had a strong support system, and most importantly belief in myself. To anyone facing similar circumstances, my advice is to be patient with yourself and trust in your journey. Surround yourself with supportive people who believe in you, even when you struggle to believe in yourself. Embrace the small victories and understand that every step forward is progress. Self-belief is the foundation for any achievement. It fuels the motivation and determination needed to pursue goals and overcome obstacles. Without believing in your abilities, it's challenging to take the necessary steps toward success. Believing in myself helped to build confidence, which guided me to take risks and step out of my comfort zone. I can now say confidently, "I am able to spit it out!"

As a new driver, I'm amazed by the life-saving innovation of Autonomous Emergency Braking (AEB) systems. These systems, equipped with sensors and cameras, detect potential collisions and automatically apply the brakes if the driver fails to react promptly, or might I hesitantly say, fall asleep at the wheel. This technology has saved me from rear-end collisions multiple times, and I mean multiple times, making me appreciate its effectiveness. What I find truly inspiring about AEB is its practical impact on road safety. By significantly reducing the occurrence and severity of rear-end collisions, it has the potential to save numerous lives and prevent injuries. This simple yet effective feature instills confidence in drivers and passengers alike, knowing that there's an extra layer of protection on the road. Furthermore, the combination of cutting-edge technology and tangible results is what makes AEB so cool. It's a perfect example of how engineering innovations can directly improve people's lives. Witnessing the real-world application of AEB reinforces my belief in the power of technology to make the world a safer and better place. Overall, AEB exemplifies how advancements in technology can have a profound impact on society. Its ability to enhance road safety and prevent accidents is truly inspiring and reinforces the importance of continued innovation in automotive engineering. As I continue to gain experience as a new driver, I'm grateful for the reassurance that AEB provides and look forward to further advancements in safety technology. And hey, with AEB watching my back, I can confidently say, "Lookout world because here I come!"

When I first began to think about my answer to the prompt, “ Who inspires you in your life?” there was no doubt in my mind who I would write about. Though I have had many people assist me through my life's journey, I would always be guided by the inner voice of my great-great grandfather Diego Simmons. I remember sitting on the porch every summer as my grandfather shared the same stories over and over again about the life of this remarkable man, Diego Simmons. In the late 1800’s my great-great grandfather had to overcome insurmountable obstacles all because of the color of his skin. Unlike others, he did not let anything or anyone detour his thirst for knowledge. Unremarkable to many, he taught himself to read and write. His determination for knowledge has always inspired me. His motto was to “Dream Big, and Go Make a Difference.” This motto has stuck with me for many years. As I continue to embark on my educational journey, I am thankful that his story has been passed down through generations. It is because of my great-great grandfather‘s influence, that I am who I am today. He could not read nor write, but through persistence and determination he beat all odds. Though I have never had a chance to meet him, I am driven by the desire to honor his memory, and embrace the opportunity to make a difference! In the Fall of 2024, I will be attending the University of Texas Austin with a goal of earning a Bachelor's degree in Environmental Engineering. Following a few years of professional experience in the field, my long term educational goal is to then obtain my Masters degree in business, establishing a woman-led engineering company specializing in environmental sustainability. My motivation and passion not only stems from my past experiences, but from a deep concern for environmental issues and a desire to make a lasting impact. I am particularly driven by the need to address the environmental challenges faced by underserved communities. Obtaining a degree in Environmental Engineering will provide a powerful platform to correct these injustices and ensure that every community, regardless of its socio-economic status, has access to a clean sustainable environment. After graduation , this will allow me the opportunity to implement solutions that could reduce the impact of extreme temperatures, as well as protect the environment, promote sustainability, and create more resilient and equitable communities. Aside from my engineering studies, one area I'm particularly eager to explore in college is photography. I've always been drawn to the art of capturing moments and expressing creativity through images. Photography not only allows me to document the world around me but also provides a unique outlet for self-expression and storytelling. I'm excited to learn about the technical aspects of cameras, composition techniques, and the creative processes behind creating visually compelling images. Exploring photography in college will not only cultivate my artistic skills but also provide me with a new perspective on the world, allowing me to see beauty and meaning in the ordinary and extraordinary alike.

"Why are you forcing me to do this?" “Why are you forcing me to do this?” I would often ask in a reluctant voice. At a young age my parents encouraged us to volunteer. It’s a family tradition that exposed us to various cultures, and instilled in me a deep appreciation of giving back to the community.As I became older I derived a sense of purpose, from helping others. I began to soon realize that my skills were not only valuable, but I felt a true sense of compassion. Many believe global change is the start, but the truth is, change begins within one’s own community, then spreads worldwide. A few years ago, I began volunteering for a local clinic that had an early literacy program called, “Reach out and Read.” This program specifically emphasized reading to children in underserved areas in order to break the stigma imposed on them based on economic gaps such in the Latinx and African American communities. As the lead volunteer I found myself happily immersed in this program. I spent countless hours outside of school and during school coming up with creative ways to assist these children to enjoy reading. My activities would often take them out of their comfort zone, citing words from a story we had just read, or acting out a particular character in a book.To date I have read, encouraged, cheered, motivated, and influenced over 428 children to read at least 20 minutes a day, which has resulted in increased academic achievement and test scores, but most important a since of new found confidence and achievement. I am that person who believes in them and encourages them. In their eyes to see someone who looks like them, become an AP scholar, valedictorian of her class, and now headed to college, is an example that if you believe in yourself, there is no limit to your success! In the early 1900’s my great-great grandfather a slave, overcame insurmountable obstacles to teach himself to read and write. As an African American man his determination and thirst for knowledge has always inspired me. It inspired me because he beat all odds. He could have been lynched simply because he knew how to read, but he wasn't. However, it remained a secret and he passed his knowledge along to other African Americans, and the story continued. On the national standardized tests last year only 18 % of black 4th graders scored proficient or above in reading; the percentage for white 4th graders was 45%. This is why I do what I do! This is why I volunteer several hours working with minority students in underserved areas. I believe everyone regardless of the color of their skin, or the community that they live in , should have the needed resources to help them excel academically. My great-great grandfather never gave up and neither will I ; I am always reminded of his motto “Dream Big, and Make a Difference”. As I embark on my college journey, my willingness to serve will continue. I am driven by the desire to honor my grandfather’s memory, but most importantly to embrace the opportunity to help others and create a positive change that can impact not only the community but the world.

“Please say one word to me, spit it out!” There I was, a five-year-old me, sitting as still as possible in my round, black stool at Kumon, an accelerated mathematics and reading program. My cheeks grew hot, turning a blotchy shade of red as sweat slowly trickled down my skin. My instructor's stare mimicked a massive spotlight as she waited for me to speak, momentarily blinding me and causing me to freeze. She sweetened the deal by offering me 20 extra Kumon bucks, a currency we used to purchase prizes after each lesson. While I was intrigued by her proposal, I simply couldn’t just “spit it out.” I remained captive in my own silence. I often compared this feeling to being trapped behind an invisible forcefield, my vocal cords straining, preventing me from speaking. I yearned to be heard, to be seen, but my voice remained trapped within, stifled by the suffocating weight of anxiety. Throughout my adolescence, this feeling only continued to increase. I was soon diagnosed with Selective Mutism, an anxiety disorder characterized by individuals not being able to speak in certain social settings. The doctor recommended that my mother encourage me to engage in activities that would push me beyond my comfort zone. While I first believed she merely enrolled me in a variety of activities to alleviate my boredom, I soon found a passion in the two things that I participated in: dance and STEM activities. Both the art of dance and the science of engineering opened an outlet and an alternative way for me to express myself. These activities gradually reshaped my behavioral patterns. Soon, my once-muted voice transformed into a whisper, and from there, it blossomed into a voice filled with modesty and confidence. With support from my parents and teachers, I was gradually able to overcome the inability to just “spit it out”. I found myself becoming more involved at school, not only in class discussions, but also in social situations. I began running for leadership positions, advocating for myself, and most importantly interacting with others, something I struggled with for years prior. When others look at me and see how far I have come, they are amazed, but mostly inspired. That once timid, red-headed ,introverted adolescent, is now valedictorian, ℅ 2024 vice president, student ambassador, national honor society member , and has over 500+ community service hours; extraordinary accomplishments for someone who couldn't speak for half her life. In closing, I am constantly reminded, "If you believe in yourself all things are possible.” I am now able to “Spit it Out!”