The bright fluorescent office lights shined directly in my eyes as I looked up at my mother as an eleven-year-old girl. I tried to make out her face as she was speaking to me. "madha yaqul altabib؟" What did the doctor say? I looked at the doctor and reassured her, “My mom is just asking what you meant when you said hypertension.” I then looked at my mom and explained that she had to lower her stress levels, which would help lower her blood pressure. “min alsahl ealayha 'an taqul 'iinaha lays ladayha 5 'atfali!" It's easy for her to say she doesn't have five kids! I laughed and told the doctor my mom had made a joke. I sat back in my seat and waited for my mom to finish her appointment with the doctor. This conversation, with some variation, was a normal part of my life growing up, as my mom often needed help translating English. My parents immigrated from Jordan to the United States. My father moved during high school, while my mother moved when she was pregnant with me. Due to this, my father was able to speak English much more fluently than my mother. When we went to the grocery store, the bank, or even the local shopping center, I had a break as my mother’s translator. The simplicity of these interactions was within her limits as an ESL speaker. However, doctors’ offices provided a different challenge for my mother, whose English vocabulary didn’t include medical terms. Attending these doctors' visits with my mother was an enlightening experience, as they catalyzed me to pursue a career in medicine. As the years went by, translating medical information at my mother's doctor's appointments became a regular occurrence, one I thought was normal for all first-generation immigrants. Five years later, during the summer vacation of my sophomore year of college, I shadowed an endocrinologist. I walked with the doctor, who told me that the next patient was an older Indian woman named “Snigda,” who had come in with consistently high blood sugar. As I talked more to the patient, trying to explain what the doctor meant by ‘hyperglycemia’, she reminded me of my mother. I then realized it wasn’t just the explicit language barrier causing this problem, but an implicit barrier. Medical jargon is already complicated for those who speak English fluently. The added complexity of having English as one’s second language makes that comprehension almost impossible. I realized that she was among the health-illiterate population, and this was causing her repeated doctor’s visits. This is a problem that my mother and “Snigda” shared. Witnessing firsthand the relief on my mother’s face as I translated the doctor's words, I knew I could make a difference. I pursued health literacy efforts with my communities at home or in my internship with Preventi, a tech startup. Preventi was developed as an app for doctor’s offices, with an embedded medical terminology database and daily medication reminders. Learning and intuitively defining medical jargon in plain language helped me realize that health literacy is an essential social determinant of health that is vital to tackle. Why should this stigma associated with immigration affect their fundamental right to healthcare? As I pursue a career in medicine, I’m committed to improving health literacy, especially in rural and urban communities. No one should leave a doctor’s office without understanding their diagnosis. Growing up, I often served as the bridge between my mother and her doctor—I aspire to be that kind of physician for all my patients, providing perceptive care regardless of language barriers.

Seeing a cornfield for the first time was a mystifying experience. I wasn't completely sure of the purpose of it being there and I was confused about what someone would do with all that corn. Of course, I was around seven years old at the time, so I was not well-versed in the subject matter of agriculture. For the first seven years of my life, I lived in Cockeysville, MD, an active urban-suburban part of Baltimore County. Anywhere I needed to go was accessible by car or by walking with my parents across the street. There were a lot of stores, schools, and restaurants in the area but no farms close by. Fast forward, I am 8 years old, and my family moves up north to Pennslyvania, but in a small rural town about 5 minutes away from the Mason-Dixon Line. Driving up to Shrewsbury, all you can see are fields. Fields of corn, wheat, and soybeans for as far as the eye can see. All of these fields, for a long time, were just a pretty sight to look at in the car as we drove by until I became involved in First Fruits Farm. Located 5 minutes away from where I live, this non-profit is a farm that harvests acres and acres worth of vegetables and fruits to donate to food banks and people in need all across the east coast. All of this work is done solely because of the time dedicated by volunteers. The way we came across this great cause was mere happenstance, but I cannot imagine this farm not being in my life. I spent over 6 years volunteering there regularly, and as I went to college, I spend my winter and spring break there, helping out with whatever I can. It isn't just the great cause that First Fruits Farm is trying to achieve, but it's the family I built in the community that inspires me to keep coming back. Some of the volunteers have known me since I was a little girl, and I love seeing everyone, especially when I come back from college. It's the family I built in my community that pushes me to get involved as I build another community at Penn State. I am currently a rising junior at Pennslyvania State University, in the Schreyer Honors College, and I am heavily involved in one club called the Schreyer Honors College Student Council. We have multiple committees that serve an array of functions, but our main goal is to unite the honors community here at Penn State. I worked towards this goal as Social Director for the past 2 years, creating a multitude of different events that everyone would like and want to join us. Our annual Schreyer Formal had a whopping 450+ people in attendance, and I couldn't have been more proud of how it turned out. As the newly elected President of the Student Council, I am working now to include more service events, with THON and volunteering, so that we can build a community within the Honors College. More importantly, I strive to build a family in this community, as I have back in my hometown so that we can generate change, step by step, at Penn State. First Fruits Farm link: https://www.firstfruitsfarm.org/

Family is a central part of all civilization and it is a topic that has been studied extensively. Anthropologists and psychologists have been studying the dynamics within families and how they have affected the general public of society and standards. I have dealt with family extensively, not in a research aspect, but in the familiar aspect that everyone can understand with their families. People with bigger families know exactly what I am talking about, as they have a bigger influence over your life because they are bigger. My family has always put a big part on the education of my siblings and me, emphasizing how we should value our education because it is a better tool we can utilize than the education that my parents received in the middle east. Since childhood, I had a love for learning and my curiosity grew, never fully satisfied as I kept reading. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor, and it was my uncle who actually influenced me to become a doctor. I was very close to my uncle, even though he lived in Germany, Texas, and now Alaska, and I talked to him about his time working in the hospital. His stories of working in the hospital (albeit located on a military base) fascinated me and I knew that I wanted to be a doctor in medicine. Although I did not have a clue as to what specific doctor I wanted to be, I knew I had a future in medicine waiting for me. It was not until a couple of years later until another big influence in my life came through: my grandfather or my father's father. Growing up, we heard many stories about our grandfather, how he was successful and hardworking, so hardworking that he would eat one big meal a day and spend all day outside, harvesting olive oil for our family farm back in Jordan. Of course, at this point, my grandfather was older and couldn't work as much, but I still envisioned him as this superman figure, until disaster struck. A couple of years after my grandfather moved to California to live closer to his children, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and it was as if someone had brought kryptonite to him. He just deteriorated in front of us, and lost a lot of what makes us human, like our memories and those emotions, leaving us with an empty shell of a person. Seeing my grandfather like this broke me down, and our family, and made me think. Then I realized, as I looked more into Alzheimer's that millions of families suffer and go through the same thing that my family was going through right at that moment. After the funeral, God bless his soul, I made a promise to myself that I would study neuroscience and neurology, to help families so that in the future no one or their loved one has to go through this difficult process. I still think about my grandfather and how I wished there was some sort of solution he could've used, so that he didn't gradually lose pieces of himself, like puzzle pieces slowly falling off a table onto the floor. I am a sophomore at Pennsylvania State University, in the honors college, studying biology with neuroscience, to make good on my promise to him. Both of these family members have shaped who I am today and if it wasn't for their experiences and sacrifices, I do not think I would be the person I am today, so I thank them.

We were all sitting in a circle, talking about our favorite TV shows. It was recess, and with a rainy day outside, my eleven-year-old friends and I could not do much but sit and talk. We finally went around the circle. One after another, my friends listed the most recent shows that had come out, as well as some classic cartoons, but they were not expecting my answer for my favorite TV show: Brain Games. Brain Games by National Geographic first came out around 2013, and when I first saw it, I was completely hooked. It was the combination of the fun, bright graphics, with the extremely interesting information that captured my attention and sparked my passion for neuroscience, even at such a young age. Ever since then, I knew I wanted to pursue a job in neuroscience, but I didn't know what job specifically until my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Unfortunately, he passed away a year after the diagnosis, and it was not until I say how much of a detrimental effect it had on my family that I knew I wanted to be a neurosurgeon. My grandfather forgot the most basic skills to go through life, as well as forgetting all of the names of his children. This emphasized how damaging this illness is, and I knew then and there that I wanted to be a neurosurgeon so I could actually make a difference in people's lives. With neuroscience, many do not realize how applicable neuroscience is to all aspects of life, and if we could just grasp a better understanding of how the brain works, several real-life problems could be solved and we could emerge more united as a community.

Communities are the basis of our civilizations. The first human civilization in Mesopotamia started out as a community, and communities have only grown to shape the world as we know it. However, we could not have built upon the foundation of a community without personal involvement. Getting people involved in their community not only improves the quality of living for inhabitants but also brings people together. It is said that love makes the world go round, but without people coming together to improve their communities, there will be no love to fuel the spinning world. Throughout my life, I have always wanted to help people. It started when I was a little girl, aspiring to be a doctor. Doctors have helped me especially throughout my life, so I wanted to spend the rest of my time helping others less fortunate. As I moved onto high school, I figured out I wanted to be a neurosurgeon. These aspirations were great and all, but they lacked action. I would not be a doctor for a long time, and I wanted to do something now. Therefore, I found my passion for helping through volunteering. In 2015, my dad and I stumbled across a small 4-acre farm near our house called 'First Fruits Farm'. We became regular visitors and volunteers there, coming throughout the summer and during every weekend, but little did we expect it to grow so rapidly. Now First Fruits Farm has grown into a 203-acre farm with hordes of volunteers that come every day to harvest the millions of pounds of vegetables and fruits that are harvested every year. The millions of pounds of fruits and vegetables, including potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, apples, lettuce (and more), then get packed and distributed to many food banks and charities all across the East Coast. One value I learned while watching First Fruits Farm grow is the power of involvement. People would stumble across the farm just as my family did, and become so entranced in their mission and their values that they would come to volunteer, or donate money and supplies which made the expansion of First Fruits Farm possible. People from all backgrounds and with all different stories come together for a common cause, giving to the less fortunate. When we think about diversity, we often think it is a source of conflict, as we see too often in the news. However, I have learned, through volunteering, that diversity is not conflicting but harmonious. Like harmony in a piece of music, volunteering brings different people together to create a sound that is melodious. Voices come together, and bodies mingle; a community is born through involvement, such as volunteering, and love grows stronger in every instant of our presence. Through my volunteer efforts with First Fruits Farm and the local library, I know firsthand the power of volunteer work. It is like a different type of power never seen before, very different from the power of greed. It is pure and showcases the best in everyone in the community. I love being a part of this pure light shining upon the world, and I will continue to volunteer while in college, becoming a part of campus volunteer efforts. Once I establish my career, I will donate to First Fruits Farm, who showed me this part of my identity I would have never found without their guidance. I also hope to start my own non-profit, once I begin to profit from being a neurosurgeon, that will fund other startups and charities that can benefit the world, in both agriculture and medicine. As we move through this dark time and get closer to the light at the end of the tunnel of the pandemic, I hope that we can bring more people together to become involved in their communities. The world was darkened for a period of time, bringing out the worst in everyone. Volunteering, however, can bring forth this pure light that once made the world go round, and make it shine even brighter. Go out and take a risk by becoming involved in your community. Meet new people. Try out a new activity. I guarantee that you will not only better yourself from it, but also your community as a whole.

For every human being, a mark is made on the world. Everyone leaves some type of mark on the world, whether it is a small change within the community or one that changes history dramatically. A legacy is one way to leave your mark on the world. Legacies are left behind in the forms of families, goals, or knowledge. To leave behind any type of legacy means that you have fulfilled your purpose as a human being. After all, what is the purpose of our existence if not to leave a legacy for future generations? Every person on this earth has a purpose. Every event that happens in our life has a specific purpose, contributing to a bigger perspective. Therefore, the cause of our existence produces the effect of legacies. There are many different types of legacies we can leave behind; some of which we would not think of as a legacy. Having a family is one common legacy left behind, and the most frequent. It can be clothes or gifts. It can even be unconditional love, something that is so fleeting in this world, yet it is a powerful force between human beings. However, all and any type of legacy is valuable because they all serve as a gift that is endowed to others. Legacies are valuable as they stem from one's passion. Passion is an amazing thing, something that everyone finds some time in their life. For me, my passion has always been helping people, using medicine as a gateway. Ever since I was a little girl, I had known that I wanted to be a doctor, without knowing exactly which type. It was not until I started to take care of my grandfather, when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, that I found out I wanted to be a neurosurgeon. Seeing my grandfather lose the best parts of his identity, like the many memories he had in Jordan and the names of his children, had a profound impact and tore something inside of me. I knew I had to do something about it. Ever since the beginning of high school, I have been preparing myself for the journey towards becoming a neurosurgeon, but I have been preparing for another path much earlier in my life. I found, through my volunteer efforts, that I immensely enjoyed spending my time helping others in need. Whether it is harvesting produce at First Fruits Farm or shelving books at the local library, volunteering is an important part of my identity that has steered me toward the path I choose to take now. While I aspire to help find preventative measures for crippling brain diseases like Alzheimer's, I want my legacy to mean so much more than that. I want everything that my parents sacrifice by immigrating to America from Jordan to be worthwhile. Even if I can bring a smile to my patients' faces after surgery, or bring about a speedy recovery from a procedure, it will all be worth it, because I am making a difference. Hopefully, I will be remembered as something that forged paths while helping others up along the way, not bringing them down. This kind of legacy is not only valuable to me but a main motivating factor for me. Whether it is a small change or a huge difference, I want to be remembered as a main source of change, to maintain the good we have in the world.

To say that the world has changed in light of a global pandemic is an understatement. We must keep 6 feet distance from anyone we do not live with. Huge parties and concerts are canceled to prevent future outbreaks. People already with diseases are at a higher risk. Granting that it has been a little over a year since the pandemic started, we have adapted considerably, with STEM occupations at the forefront of the battle. Emergency responders, nurses, doctors were just some of the few people who battled and found new regulations to keep us safe. STEM occupations are important for continuing to help people adapt and thrive in a post-pandemic world. Biotech companies have created vaccines, which will soon be available for all adults. These vaccines would not be possible without the STEM knowledge we know today, and they are key players in helping the world return to a normal pre-pandemic age. STEM occupations also thrive with diversity. Not only do they create diversity just with their products, but they also need a diversified staff working, one that will churn out new and unique ideas. Bringing people from all ages and backgrounds, including women, will help to stir original ideas into a pot that can be manipulated toward our needs. STEM is going to be the new focus as we come into this post-pandemic world because the circumstances have already shown how important these occupations are to our survival. The new world we live in has shown us that STEM occupations are adaptable, accessible, and, most importantly, essential. We live in a post-pandemic world, yes, but we also live in a digital world, one that is being dominated by STEM occupations. As you can see, STEM surrounds us everywhere, being found in places we might not have expected, and in places that need a boost. With its diverse ideas, STEM occupations need diverse people, and, for the world to continue to adapt, we need the before-mentioned ideas to emerge from the brightest and boldest minds.

Science. Technology. Engineering. Mathematics. 4 simple words that encompass a broad range of ideas and careers, yet the majority of STEM careers include two or more out of the four aspects of STEM. That is the beauty of STEM: it allows one to have many options but also includes two or more academic areas. Ever since I was a little girl, I have been fascinated with STEM. I loved science, more specifically, medicine. My primary dream job was first a doctor and then later a neurosurgeon. Something that grasped my attention towards STEM, even as a little girl, was how, no matter what career choice I picked, I would be able to help people and make a difference in the world. STEM pushes innovation and creates a tangible difference in the world, one that everyone can see and touch, even. Not only does STEM make a tangible difference in our world, but it also involves compassion. For many STEM careers, compassion toward other colleagues or patients is a necessity, one that makes a distinction in its absence. Pursuing a career in STEM will allow me to make a difference for those suffering from Alzheimer's while giving the same people compassion they might be lacking from a loved one or their family. Alzheimer's, and many other brain illnesses, target an organ that has many essential functions in our body; once the organ is compromised, it can take a depressing toll on the body, something that is hard to watch as it progresses. However, STEM has many academic areas that can be combined together to try and reach a solution to these imperfect problems. Engineering can be combined with science to create biotech that may operate on patients. The mathematics of physics can be combined with science to figure out the correct ratio of drugs that will safely act on the patient. The opportunities are limitless, which accounts for how helpful STEM is when targeting these kinds of problems. As I move to college, majoring in neuroscience, I cannot wait to start my STEM studies. The next four years will consist of a variety of different science courses that will build the foundation for medical school. These studies will completely prepare me for a successful career because a neurosurgeon is a prime example of how STEM interweaves itself through many careers. Neuroscience focuses on biology and chemistry, mostly, but there is much math in physics involved as well, especially as you talk about the cell's membrane potential. Engineering can create technology, like robots which are increasing in use in neurosurgeries as a safer and less invasive option. I hope to utilize all aspects of STEM throughout my career in the future. Once I build the foundation in my undergraduate studies, I can then test out new ideas and theories, trying to find a specific gene or association area in the brain that might be the miracle we have all been looking for. A successful neurosurgeon's career consists of all aspects of STEM being braided together to solve a myriad of problems. STEM will allow me to be both intellectual and compassionate toward my patients, improving their quality of life in any way that I can.

Perfectionism is a double-edged sword, one that I have been struggling with my entire life. While it has motivated me, pushing me to the top of academic ranks within my school, it has brought me down and consumed me, as I nit-pick every single thing. Every. Single. Little. Thing. Yes, it is tedious but I cannot help it. I am grateful that my parents think so highly of me, but their expectations push me toward tedious behaviors. These tedious behaviors eventually shifted into more malicious forms. I began to have frequent mood swings and bipolar mania. One minute I will be yelling about how unfairly I am being treated, but the next minute, I am watching Tori Vega trash a boy publicly on stage contently. I try to overcome these behaviors. My mother tells me to often 'let go', and it works, but only for a period of time. However, the mania sneaks back in and hits me full force, for the duration of a weekend. I feel like I am losing control as I am yelling, while simultaneously feeling powerful and angrier with every word shouted. With some of the traumatic experiences that consisted of my childhood, I feel that I may never escape these occurrences, as they are a part of me, but I can grow from them. I have taken to practicing breathing exercises as I sense the anger rising in me, and meditate every morning to ground myself. Exercise has also been a powerful outlet to release any previous tension. Through my experience learning to deal with mild bipolar mania, I want other people to know that they are not alone, and to try and make people not take everything personally. I know I suffer from this but nowadays, we take everything personally without considering what goes on with the other party. People with mental illness may not know what they are saying sometimes (myself included), and we need to be more aware of others. Becoming more aware and empathic are just the first steps in this war we are battling with mental illness.

Chess brings people together. People, both young and old, cluster around a checkered 8x8 grid, manipulating miniature marble-like statues. For my father, chess was a way of communication that bridged between him and everyone else. My father immigrated to the United States from Jordan, knowing almost no words in English. He came when he was around 15, just in time for his first year of high school. High school is hard for anyone, but it is exponentially harder when you do not speak English. He had to work twice as hard in his classes, to understand the content in an unknown context. There was one context he understood, and that was chess. He played it when he lived in Jordan, learning from the best. His uncles started by teaching him the basics and gradually moved to learning strategies to outsmart his opponents. Chess was a way to communicate, that bridged the language gap. As soon as his friends discovered he could play, they invited my father to the chess club after school, and it was a time where my father felt as if he was among friends. He could envision himself back homes, playing against his uncles. They taught my father well, with no need to worry. He beat practically every other member of the chess club, earning exclaims of defeat and awe from every opponent. It was about so much more than winning, though. Chess was a way to make friends in a strange world, and communicate through similar ideals. Chess club solidified his love for the sport, even today. My father imbued the same love for chess in me, his oldest daughter. He taught me from a young age and went on to teach each of my younger siblings. When we all were at the same understanding, and similar ages, my father took us to a nearby chess club his friend at work told him about. Located in the cafeteria of a nearby high school, the throngs of kids frightened my siblings and me, as we felt like outsiders. Once we saw the familiar chess boards, we felt right at home. Well, the snack tables nearby were also welcomed with open arms...and hands! My siblings and I each separated, claiming a chessboard and waiting for an opponent, whoever dared to challenge us. It is safe to say that we were not expecting such qualified opponents at first. After overcoming the initial shock, my siblings and I grew stronger after each meeting every weekend. We'd meet up with our father after, who was waiting to hear every detail and strategy we used on unsuspecting players. I loved going to chess club every weekend, but as I grew up and traveled to high school, suddenly I did not have the time to go every weekend. Weekends turned to months, and months turned into years. Unfortunately, the only time I ever had to play was the chess tournaments we had as a family twice a month. These chess tournaments were not only a fun family get-together but a chance for my father to flex his superior chess muscles. Throughout my time playing chess, I have learned so much about it. I am not talking about just the history. As I grew in number, I grew in expertise, devising new strategies to add to my collection. When playing a game of chess, you must formulate clever strategies that are so stealthy that your opponent does not see the final picture until it is too late; sometimes the most clever trick is not a big power-move but a sly, almost discerning move. That means moving your queen, the most powerful piece, as well as moving an inconsequential player, like your pawn, to distract your opponent. While I do not have names for all these strategies, I keep them in my head, ready to take them out at any moment during our family's chess tournaments. The most applicable trait I have learned while playing chess is patience. Patience is an important virtue to learn and use, and chess is an excellent tool. There are many instances in life when you are going to have to be patient. Burnout is always there, waiting on the edges, but the final result is the driving force to success. As I move to college and fulfill my career aspirations, I am going to have to be patient, a skill I have thanks to my chess years. Ever since I was a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a doctor; it was not until I grew up that I realized how much effort and time would be necessary. Becoming a neurosurgeon requires many years of schooling. 4 years of undergraduate studies, 4 years of medical school, 5-7 years for residency, 1-2 years for fellowship, and 1 year if you want to specialize in a certain area. With over 10 years of education ahead, I am patiently waiting for the journey ahead, just as I patiently waited to trap my opponent in a corner and yell 'checkmate!". Anyone who has played chess knows that chess games can last for a long time. A surprisingly long time. Chess games have lasted between grandmasters for many minutes, even hours. However, just as these experts prevented burnout, I will too as I go through my arduous journey. It is more about the experience than the journey; anyone who plays chess knows this. Indeed, it is nice to win the game in the end, but watching the opponent, trying to figure out what is running through his head as you try to counteract it in your head, makes the game all the more interesting and worthwhile. Learning new information, meeting new people, and engaging with hospital staff, to try and make a difference in the world, later on, makes my collegiate journey all the more worthwhile. Chess has been an exhilarating experience that gave me the skills to take on the world, and finally, say 'checkmate' to all obstacles on the way.

I have worked hard to be where I am today and prepare myself for the future. Hi, my name is Emma Khoury and I am going to be a neurosurgeon. Ever since I was a little girl, and I watched National Geographic's TV show Brain Games, I became fascinated with neuroscience and the brain. This 3-pound organ, which controls so many important bodily functions, was still somewhat of a mystery; this mystery captivated me when I was eleven, and it still does. Naturally, I wanted to dedicate my future to solving this mystery, so I could help others who are suffering from defects, whether it may be from Alzheimer's or epilepsy. While my parents continually pushed farther, helping me by expanding my boundaries, there was a financial aspect which they were at a loss from helping me. I am the oldest of 4 siblings, and both my parents immigrated to the United States from Jordan in the Middle East, so they had to work harder to get the same opportunities for my siblings and me. My father had to work at his father's store in New Jersey while commuting to NYU and continuing his studies, paving his own path. Now it is time for me to travel down my solo path, with no financial aid from my parents. I challenged myself during high school, taking as many AP classes as I can, with a total of 7 at the end of my educational career. When the pandemic hit and everyone had to stay inside, I took an online neuroscience course provided by Harvard, so I could have some footwork when working with my passion in the future. I have always worked and took advantage of every opportunity I had. I intend to keep on working, as I go on getting my undergraduate degree and later managing through medical school, residency, and specialty certificates. In my wildest dreams, I see myself in an operating room, ordering with ease and familiarity from years of experience. I see myself being thanked by families, who would have lost their loved ones if it had not been for my work. This long, arduous, educational journey I have in only a step in the entire plan I have to make my dreams a reality. After establishing my career, I plan to either work for the Air Force and/or Doctors without Borders so I can use my new-found skills to help the less fortunate, especially in war-torn locations in the Middle East, like Yemen and Syria, because they are currently facing a lack of resources and expertise among a destructive time in their history. After serving with either one of these distinguished organizations, I plan to work in a hospital for the rest of my time until I cannot perform surgery due to old age. Maybe after I retire, I will work as a college professor, inspiring passion in other future neurosurgeons. There are many dreams I have that I cannot wait to undertake, as the world has many problems that accomplished students like me need to try and solve. However, many of my educational dreams are hindered by my lack of financial aid and resources. The Earth we live on is a sphere, malleable to human influence. By accomplishing my many dreams, I can shape the world to be a better place; these dreams, though, cannot live without the help of financial assistance.

Books, books and more books. These imaginative stories and fountains of knowledge were a huge part of my childhood. As the eldest, I did not yet have my four younger siblings with me to entertain myself, so I decided to jumpstart this fountain of knowledge early-on. I read stories about fantasy, adventures, fact, and fiction; you name it, I read it. Education is not made of just books; they are a profound part of education. Books, and now the internet were all avenues I pursued when finding my passion for neuroscience. I initially learned about neuroscience when I watched the National Geographic show Brain Games at eleven years of age. This show filled with facts and infographics captured my attention at an early age. As I grew older, I looked for places in my area that would help forge the foundation for my interest in education about neuroscience, with the overall goal being to become a neurologist. Alas, my hometown is small, with limited areas that showcase neuroscience. Finding an online course about the basics of neuroscience provided by Havard was just the jump I needed to overcome this recent obstacle. As I watched videos starring important professors from Havard, I cultivated an even deeper passion for medicine and neurology. There have been many factors and obstacles in my path towards neurology: money, accessibility, resources. However, education, whether it be from my high school, books from the library, or even articles online, has provided me with opportunities to learn about everything in this big wide world. Learning about a range of concepts and ideas is profound in helping fine-tune every person's passion and interest. This is the goal of education, regardless of any obstacles presented. This is the role of education: to provide knowledge to every generation, so that they may make their own decisions and forge their own identities. Education is not only a provider but a means to make meaning in our lives. Everyone deserves the opportunity to find and pursue fields that they're passionate about, regardless of anything life might throw our way.

DNA. It is the backbone of life, the foundation for every single living organism. Without John Watson and Francis Crick writing the first paper detailing DNA, the world might not have understood its importance. Wait, hold on. What about Rosalind Franklin? Who is Rosalind Franklin, you ask? Well, the anonymous reaction should say a lot about her life. Franklin grew up as a Jewish with a love for science and devoted her life to it. She neglected the traditional courses encouraged by her Jewish culture and pursued science. She made her ground-breaking discovery about DNA's helicase structure doing x-ray diffraction work for Wilkins, yet she was snubbed, to say the least. Watson, Crick, and Wilkins all took her work (work she devoted her life to, as one of the only women in science at the time) and made it their own, attributing that they made her discovery. Without this clever scientist, Watson and Crick may not have made this discovery as fast as they did, or even at all. Rosalind Franklin can teach a valuable lesson to all women going in STEM and to the populous in general. One, even in adversity you must stand up for yourself or be snubbed. Two, pursue a passion that means a lot to you, and you might just make a ground-breaking discovery as profound as Franklin. Ever since learning about Rosalind Franklin and how she was neglected because of her sex, I want to encourage women and other minorities that might be fearful of completing such a daunting task that is undertaking STEM; I also want to pursue my passion for neuroscience, like Franklin. Franklin set the foundation for the subject of biology and its related counterparts. By following Franklin's footsteps, by undertaking a task no matter how daunting and exploring to reach our full potential, we will then change the course of the human race. STEM is such a unique field that needs diversity to solve the world's problems and propose new ideas. Rosalind Franklin taught me to embrace my heritage, as both woman and a Middle Eastern person in STEM, because it is the only way to change the world beneficially. With Rosalind Franklin's history and path in mind, I now know what I hope to accomplish in STEM. I want to not only encourage women and people of color to embrace and pursue STEM careers but also to pursue what I want, regardless of what others expect of me. These two lessons can only be taught by hardship and courage; lessons which were taught by a great and experienced teacher like Franklin. I hope that I can be just as beneficial, perhaps, even more, to teach important lessons and be a great example for generations to come.

How would you feel confronting your greatest fear? Anxious? Fearful? Narcotic? All of these emotions and more rushed through, like a dam opening, on my speech day; for I was undertaking my greatest fear: public speaking. I hated, no I loathed public speaking, as I hated to present myself in front of throngs of people. Yet, here I was, speaking in front of the Metropolitan of all North America, about what I have learned from the saints. Lights were shining over me, and I was sweating profusely, but there was no place I would rather be than sharing my story