I grew up in a world of my own, rich with mythical creatures, daring heroines, and cunning villains. This was a metaphorical world, of course, the result of having spent my childhood enraptured by whimsical fairy tales, thrilling novels, and curious folktales. For a while, I preferred my literary world to the natural one, believing that the creativity and wonder I derived from reading could only be found in fiction. Throughout my sophomore year, however, I became enamored by molecular biology, and chose to enroll in external science programs and my school’s most rigorous biology courses. I soon realized that scientific discovery complements literature, for science breathes life into fictitious ideas–and with fields like genetics–can significantly alter human life. The very basis of genetic engineering, DNA sequencing, utilizes the order, frequency, and placement of just four letters to predispose disease, the same letters that appear hundreds of times in my favorite novels. Literature and science are inextricably connected–both harnessing the power of language to change the world physically, socially, and politically–and in many ways, literature was my muse for deciding to pursue science. Genetics, in my eyes, has an unparalleled potential when compared to other branches of science, holding the power to eradicate disease, modify dangerous alleles, and engineer organisms that can solve a variety of national issues. Within the field, Clinical Genetics and Personalized Medicine in particular caught my fascination, both of which use a patient’s genome to tailor treatment. Imagine my utter surprise to learn that by reading the billions of bases in each of our cells–to read like a book, if you will–diseases could be detected and wrought out of existence, and once “incurable” conditions could be rendered ailments of the past. With my unbridled passion for molecular biology, then, I aim to be a Clinical Geneticist, someone who can wield genetic therapy and engineering to treat patients with a multitude of genetic conditions. I seek to bridge the gap between patients and doctors, and serve as a translator between the patients and their genome, providing effective, honest, and compassionate communication. I want to truly understand the molecular and chemical basis of life, and then use that knowledge to target malignant cells, dangerous alleles, and sporadic, awry gene expression. I hope to be at the forefront of genetic innovation and discovery, inspiring future generations of female scientists in the way Rosalind Franklin and Jennifer Doudna did for me. Clinical Genetics, unlike most medical and scientific fields, has the unique ability to boast a female majority (59%). These women serve as yet another testimony to the intelligence, curiosity, and innovation that women bring to STEM, even when faced with systematic misogyny, the difficulties of being both a mother and doctor (if they wish to be both), and the novelty of being among the first generations of women since the Public Health Service Act of 1975. To join this group of women, and further the normalcy of women in STEM and medical careers, is yet another attractive element of being a Clinical Geneticist, and I wish to help socially ease all women's entries into STEM, especially for those who live in countries where it is still illegal to do so. Genetics is my ever growing fascination, the evolution of my childhood love of literature, and the shining beacon of my future career and life. I seek to understand, manipulate, and heal with it, revolutionizing how science approaches medical diagnosis and treatment, and adding to the centuries-long collaboration that makes up science, all as a woman.

About 98% of our DNA is known as the "dark genome", holding thousands of repetitive elements and non-coding regions. But even with understanding just 2% of the genome, genetic engineering and therapy have been used to detect predisposition to disorders, modify DNA through viruses, and engineer bacteria that clean oil spills. Vaccines that manipulate the central dogma of molecular biology have been utilized by millions during the Covid-19 pandemic, and treatments that modify the cells of our immune system to attack cancer are now used routinely. The future of genetics is limited only to the curiosity and imagination of researchers, clinicians, and geneticists, a group that I would one day like to join in improving our understanding and treatment of human disease. I first became enamored by genetics and molecular biology during my sophomore year, fascinated by the intersection of statistics, science, and ethics. This unbridled curiosity further manifested in my junior year, and I explored molecular genetics in the University of Rochester's Personalized Medicine course, the Boston Leadership Institute's Biological Research camp, and my school's biology club. My passion for the subject even seeped into my local library–where I work and volunteer–in the form of interactive, bi-weekly biology displays, complete with books, infographics, and mini crafts/labs. In my free time, I found myself leafing through my dad's biology books from graduate school and reading Richard Dawkins' "The Selfish Gene". My interest in molecular genetics continued to grow, leading me to apply to universities as a Biology major and plan for an MD/PhD career pathway. At the end of this path, I aim to be a Clinical Geneticist, someone who can harness the potential of genetic engineering and apply it to patient diagnosis and treatment. I seek to bridge the gap between patients and doctors, and serve as a translator between the patients and their genome, providing effective, honest, and compassionate communication. I want to truly understand the molecular and chemical basis of life, and then use that knowledge to target malignant cells, dangerous alleles, and sporadic, awry gene expression. With CRISPR and other gene editing technologies, I could modify dangerous alleles--particularly those used by cancerous cells--and cater a patient's treatment to their specific genome. Moreover, by studying Spanish throughout college, I could directly communicate with and treat a wider range of patients, without having to rely on intermediaries. Genetics, in my eyes, has an unparalleled potential when compared to other branches of science, and I am to be at the forefront of this innovation and discovery, applying scientific research to patient treatment and care.

Six months into my twelfth year of education, I can say that senior year, if nothing else, is comprised of dualities: an eagerness to leave behind high school's monotony, yet a fear of the limitless, unrestricted world. An excitement to meet people from all over the country, yet a sadness from leaving behind beloved friends, teachers, and family. An enthusiasm to pursue personal, academic passions, yet a reluctance for the never ending college workload. And so with all of these dualities and contradictions swirling around the future, I can see no better title for my next chapter than "Dark Chocolate". Dark chocolate--like early mornings, mathematics, olives, and Taylor Swift--tends to evoke strong emotions, with some loving its bitter tang and others likening it to dirt. I, like many, prefer to characterize its distinctive taste as bittersweet, and can both enjoy and abhor the taste, depending on the circumstances. I crave dark chocolate in some dishes (hot chocolate, drizzled over fruits, and with salt), but can also wince at its sour flavor. My feelings around dark chocolate are dependent on its pairings, cocoa percentage, and occasion, and at times, can even seem contradictory. As my senior year comes to a close, and the Dark Chocolate chapter gets ever nearer, my feelings, routine, and relationships get more and more bittersweet. The bitterness of time's scarcity and unfamiliar horizons is balanced by the sweetness of excitement, pride, and fond memories, and the duality of this Dark Chocolate chapter both terrifies and enthralls me. When 85% cocoa lovers remind me that time is fleeting, that college stress can be unbearable, that I'll only see those closest to me a few times a year, I shy from the Dark Chocolate's crisp, unread pages. When white chocolate fanatics rave about college's boundless freedom, newfound independence, and range of opportunities, I yearn to skip the last pages of my current chapter, to indulge in the future. But that's the beauty of the next chapter, my Dark Chocolate chapter: my future can be bittersweet, tinged with dualities, and full of novelty. Both exhilaration and anxiety are to be expected, and both are vital to crafting Dark Chocolate's sweet, sour, and bitter palette. And so I'll embark on this new chapter the same way that I do with my dark chocolate: as a delicacy to experiment with, savor, and above all else, explore.

I'm laying in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. There is lavender oil on my pillow, I have swallowed melatonin and herbal tea, and my bedroom is set to 68 degrees, the perfect sleeping temperature. I read for almost an hour before bed, and have meditative music playing in the background. I did everything right, and yet the red lights of my clocker are now flickering 4:30 am. Three hours from that point, I would be in a dim, chilled cafeteria, waiting to be led to my SAT testing room. I had prepared for seven months with Khan academy, endless prep books, and twelve practice tests. I had pushed myself to continue studying in the early hours of school mornings, and brought my math prep book to Eastern Europe just so I wouldn't go more than a few days without studying. I had let an incessant, droning voice in the back of my head push me to drastic lengths all throughout these past few months, just so I could ensure that I would be in the best position possible to take the SAT. Just so that my raw score would be "high" enough for my college applications. Just so that I would feel intelligent, valid, and accomplished. I never did go to sleep that night, for I could never silence that droning voice or slow my erratic, pounding heart. Sleep stung my eyes all throughout the test, and though it has never been as dramatic as that night, sleep continues to be a frequent challenge for my anxiety to contend with. Since then, however, I have sought professional guidance and assistance through therapy and medication. Though not perfect, these measures have eased the mental burden my anxiety places upon me, and allow me to better separate school and academic work from my personal life and time. With my therapist's counsel, I have learned to not feel guilty when simply watching Netflix, reading, or hanging out with friends, activities that, though non-academic, provide unquantifiable joy. I have learned to step back from academic work when feeling stressed or overwhelmed, and that my identity does not have to be defined by grades or academic achievements. In my eyes, mental health is inextricably interconnected with one's academic performance and personal life. In some lights, my anxiety can be seen as a strength, pushing me to work and study beyond my capacity, and often be "rewarded" with high scores and grades. What isn't so visible, however, is the emotional toll this drive takes on me, polluting my thoughts and hindering my sleep. But with each pause I take to gain perspective on the situation, write my thoughts out, meet with my therapist, or spend time doing relaxing, fueling activities, I pull back on anxiety's tug. Mental health is the one permanent, everlasting component of life, outliving education, relationships, and academic achievements. To prioritize one's mental health is to make an investment, an investment whose payoff manifests as resilience, confidence, and compassion. And while it can be challenging at times, mental health is a beacon I now work towards and prioritize each day, an effort on my part to keep academic success in perspective, show my healthiest and kindest self to my friends and family, and to enjoy all of life's intricacies and capacity.

I grew up in a world of my own, rich with mythical creatures, daring heroines, and cunning villains. This was a metaphorical world, of course, the result of having spent my childhood enraptured by whimsical fairy tales, thrilling novels, and curious folktales. For a while, I preferred my literary world to the natural one, believing that the creativity and wonder I derived from reading could only be found in fiction. Throughout my sophomore year, however, I became enamored by molecular biology, and chose to enroll in external science programs and my school’s most rigorous biology courses. I soon realized that scientific discovery complements literature, for science breathes life into fictitious ideas–and with fields like genetics–can significantly alter human life. The very basis of genetic engineering, DNA sequencing, utilizes the order, frequency, and placement of just four letters to predispose disease, the same letters that appear hundreds of times in my favorite novels. Literature and science are inextricably connected–both harnessing the power of language to change the world physically, socially, and politically–and in many ways, literature was my muse for deciding to pursue science. Engrossed in the boundless world of biology, I then searched beyond my school for opportunities to explore the breadth and potential of Genetics. This exploration manifested as a Personalized Medicine course at the University of Rochester, a three-week Biological Research summer camp, and hours spent pouring over my dad’s old biology textbooks, remnants of his own time as a student. Genetics, in my eyes, has an unparalleled potential when compared to other branches of science, holding the power to eradicate disease, modify dangerous alleles, and engineer organisms that can solve a variety of national issues, including climate change. Within the field, Clinical Genetics and Personalized Medicine in particular caught my fascination, both of which use a patient’s genome to tailor treatment. Imagine my utter surprise to learn that by reading the billions of bases in each of our cells–to read like a book, if you will–diseases could be detected and wrought out of existence, and once “incurable” conditions could be rendered ailments of the past. With my unbridled passion for molecular biology, then, I aim to be a Clinical Geneticist, someone who can wield genetic therapy and engineering to treat patients with a multitude of genetic conditions. I seek to bridge the gap between patients and doctors, and serve as a translator between the patients and their genome, providing effective, honest, and compassionate communication. I want to truly understand the molecular and chemical basis of life, and then use that knowledge to target malignant cells, dangerous alleles, and sporadic, awry gene expression. I hope to be at the forefront of genetic innovation and discovery, inspiring future generations of female scientists in the way Rosalind Franklin and Jennifer Doudna did for me. Clinical Genetics, unlike most medical and scientific fields, has the unique ability to boast a female majority (59%). These women serve as yet another testimony to the intelligence, curiosity, and innovation that women bring to STEM, even when faced with systematic misogyny, the difficulties of being both a mother and doctor (if they wish to be both), and the novelty of being among the first generations of women since the Public Health Service Act of 1975 (which banned discrimination on the basis of sex in health educational establishments funded by the government). To join this group of women, and further the normalcy of women in STEM and medical careers, is yet another attractive element of being a Clinical Geneticist, and I wish to help socially ease all women's entries into STEM, especially for those who live in countries where it is still illegal to do so. Genetics is my ever growing fascination, the evolution of my childhood love of literature, and the shining beacon of my future career and life. I seek to understand, manipulate, and heal with it, revolutionizing how science approaches medical diagnosis and treatment, and adding to the centuries-long collaboration that makes up science.

I grew up in a world of my own, rich with mythical creatures, daring heroines, and cunning villains. This was a metaphorical world, of course, the result of having spent my childhood enraptured by whimsical fairy tales, thrilling novels, and curious folktales. For a while, I preferred my literary world to the natural one, believing that the creativity and wonder I derived from reading could only be found in fiction. Throughout my sophomore year, however, I became enamored by molecular biology, and chose to enroll in external science programs and my school’s most rigorous biology courses. I soon realized that scientific discovery complements literature, for science breathes life into fictitious ideas–and with fields like genetics–can significantly alter human life. The very basis of genetic engineering, DNA sequencing, utilizes the order, frequency, and placement of just four letters to predispose disease, the same letters that appear hundreds of times in my favorite novels. Literature and science are inextricably connected–both harnessing the power of language to change the world physically, socially, and politically–and in many ways, literature was my muse for deciding to pursue science. Engrossed in the boundless world of biology, I then searched beyond my school for opportunities to explore the breadth and potential of Genetics. This exploration manifested as a Personalized Medicine course at the University of Rochester, a three-week Biological Research summer camp, and hours spent pouring over my dad’s old biology textbooks, remnants of his own time as a student. Genetics, in my eyes, has an unparalleled potential when compared to other branches of science, holding the power to eradicate disease, modify dangerous alleles, and engineer organisms that can solve a variety of national issues, including climate change. Within the field, Clinical Genetics and Personalized Medicine in particular caught my fascination, both of which use a patient’s genome to tailor treatment. Imagine my utter surprise to learn that by reading the billions of bases in each of our cells–to read like a book, if you will–diseases could be detected and wrought out of existence, and once “incurable” conditions could be rendered ailments of the past. With my unbridled passion for molecular biology, then, I aim to be a Clinical Geneticist, someone who can wield genetic therapy and engineering to treat patients with a multitude of genetic conditions. I seek to bridge the gap between patients and doctors, and serve as a translator between the patients and their genome, providing effective, honest, and compassionate communication. I want to truly understand the molecular and chemical basis of life, and how that knowledge can be manipulated to target malignant cells, dangerous alleles, and sporadic, awry gene expression. I hope to be at the forefront of genetic innovation and discovery, inspiring future generations of female scientists in the way Rosalind Franklin and Jennifer Doudna did for me. Genetics is my ever growing fascination, the evolution of my childhood love of literature, and the shining beacon of my future career and life. I seek to understand, manipulate, and heal with it, revolutionizing how science approaches medical diagnosis and treatment, and adding to the centuries-long collaboration that makes up science.

I grew up in a world of my own, rich with mythical creatures, daring heroines, and cunning villains. This was a metaphorical world, of course, the result of having spent my childhood enraptured by whimsical fairy tales, thrilling novels, and curious folktales. For a while, I preferred my literary world to the natural one, believing that the creativity and wonder I derived from reading could only be found in fiction. Throughout my sophomore year, however, I became enamored by molecular biology, and chose to enroll in external science programs and my school’s most rigorous biology courses. I soon realized that scientific discovery complements literature, for science breathes life into fictitious ideas–and with fields like genetics–can significantly alter human life. The very basis of genetic engineering, DNA sequencing, utilizes the order, frequency, and placement of just four letters to predispose disease, the same letters that appear hundreds of times in my favorite novels. Literature and science are inextricably connected–both harnessing the power of language to change the world physically, socially, and politically–and in many ways, literature was my muse for deciding to pursue science. Engrossed in the boundless world of biology, I then searched beyond my school for opportunities to explore the breadth and potential of Genetics. This exploration manifested as a Personalized Medicine course at the University of Rochester, a three-week Biological Research summer camp, and hours spent pouring over my dad’s old biology textbooks, remnants of his own time as a student. Genetics, in my eyes, has an unparalleled potential when compared to other branches of science, holding the power to eradicate disease, modify dangerous alleles, and engineer organisms that can solve a variety of national issues, including climate change. Within the field, Clinical Genetics and Personalized Medicine in particular caught my fascination, both of which use a patient’s genome to tailor treatment. Imagine my utter surprise to learn that by reading the billions of bases in each of our cells–to read like a book, if you will–diseases could be detected and wrought out of existence, and once “incurable” conditions could be rendered ailments of the past. With my unbridled passion for molecular biology, then, I aim to be a Clinical Geneticist, someone who can wield genetic therapy and engineering to treat patients with a multitude of genetic conditions. I seek to bridge the gap between patients and doctors, and serve as a translator between the patients and their genome, providing effective, honest, and compassionate communication. I want to truly understand the molecular and chemical basis of life, and then use that knowledge to target malignant cells, dangerous alleles, and sporadic, awry gene expression. I hope to be at the forefront of genetic innovation and discovery, inspiring future generations of female scientists in the way Rosalind Franklin and Jennifer Doudna did for me. Genetics is my ever growing fascination, the evolution of my childhood love of literature, and the shining beacon of my future career and life. I seek to understand, manipulate, and heal with it, revolutionizing how science approaches diagnosis and treatment, and adding to the centuries-long collaboration that makes up science.

In order to be vulnerable, to love, to trust, and to hope, you need just one bright person. Out of the all eight billion people in the world, you only need one to truly see you, to recognize your sorrows and joys and stand beside you through both, prepared to bear whatever comes with your relationship. And while this can be utterly difficult, and at times seem impossible, the sheer happiness and life that comes out of that connection will irrevocably revolutionize how you view the world. I should know, for even as just a viewer of one of these connections, my own worldly outlook and compassion hasn't been the same since watching "All the Bright Places". Violet, one of the two protagonists of the movie, suffers in silence after the death of her older sister, understandably unable to converse and interact comfortably with both her peers and family. On the anniversary of her sister's death, Finch--the second protagonist--finds her atop a bridge ledge, prepared to jump if only to escape the perpetual darkness of her current existence. After that harrowing night, Violet and Finch find themselves drawn to each other's' mystique, oddities, and general beings. They then decide to complete a school geography project together, and embark on an exploration of Indiana and its many wonders. Throughout their exploration, Violet begins to open up to Finch, revealing her traumas, regrets, and vulnerabilities. Finch, in turn, shows her the beauty of life, and how, to navigate the future and reconcile the past, she needs to find a way to "stay awake". Once faced with another tragedy, Violet realizes that each beautiful, wondrous, and captivating place she visited with Finch wasn't brightened by the location or setting, but by the person she was with and the person she was becoming. "All the Bright Places" contains a plethora of meaningful themes, but perhaps the most prevalent is the one of what it means to be alive. The movie argues that it isn't enough to wake up, fulfill a routine, and sleep once again, but that instead, each moment ought to be cherished. Every moment you have is one that can be spent exploring, laughing, and loving, and it is people in your life who will give you that utter joy. It is natural to reminisce and regret, but that remorse shouldn't overshadow the the present, staining life with guilt and anger. Alongside its meaningful and gripping themes, "All the Bright Places" boasts vivid cinematography, a moving, tear-wrenching soundtrack, and a diverse, well-rounded cast. The scenes filled with dialogue and action are just as significant as those featuring just a natural shot or a character in silence, their expression saying more than a script ever could. Each and every moment of the movie is imbued with consideration and intention, and there is a character, setting, and scene for every viewer. If I could only watch one movie for the rest of my life, "All the Bright Places" would be it. This film will always be relevant, highlighting an outlook on life that I can turn to for guidance, comfort, and resilience. This movie can fit in any moment of my life, whether serving as a reminder to further appreciate the intricacies of my life or to depend upon my loved ones in the way Violet did on Finch. And most importantly, "All the Bright Places" will always remain a bright place in my own life, somewhere I can forever seek solace, hope, and strength.

In order to be vulnerable, to love, to trust, and to hope, you need just one bright person. Out of the all eight billion people in the world, you only need one to truly see you, to recognize your sorrows and joys and stand beside you through both, prepared to bear whatever comes with your relationship. And while this can be utterly difficult, and at times seem impossible, the sheer happiness and life that comes out of that connection will irrevocably revolutionize how you view the world. I should know, for even as just a viewer of one of these connections, my own worldly outlook and compassion hasn't been the same since watching "All the Bright Places". Violet, one of the two protagonists of the movie, suffers in silence after the death of her older sister, understandably unable to converse and interact comfortably with both her peers and family. On the anniversary of her sister's death, Finch--the second protagonist--finds her atop a bridge ledge, prepared to jump if only to escape the perpetual darkness of her current existence. After that harrowing night, Violet and Finch find themselves drawn to each other's' mystique, oddities, and general beings. They then decide to complete a school geography project together, and embark on an exploration of Indiana and its many wonders. Throughout their exploration, Violet begins to open up to Finch, revealing her traumas, regrets, and vulnerabilities. Finch, in turn, shows her the beauty of life, and how, to navigate the future and reconcile the past, she needs to find a way to "stay awake". Once faced with another tragedy, Violet realizes that each beautiful, wondrous, and captivating place she visited with Finch wasn't brightened by the location or setting, but by the person she was with and the person she was becoming. "All the Bright Places" contains a plethora of meaningful themes, but perhaps the most prevalent is the one of what it means to be alive. The movie argues that it isn't enough to wake up, fulfill a routine, and sleep once again, but that instead, each moment ought to be cherished. Every moment you have is one that can be spent exploring, laughing, and loving, and it is people in your life who will give you that utter joy. It is natural to reminisce and regret, but that remorse shouldn't overshadow the the present, staining life with guilt and anger. Alongside its meaningful and gripping themes, "All the Bright Places" boasts vivid cinematography, a moving, tear-wrenching soundtrack, and a diverse, well-rounded cast. The scenes filled with dialogue and action are just as significant as those featuring just a natural shot or a character in silence, their expression saying more than a script ever could. Each and every moment of the movie is imbued with consideration and intention, and there is a character, setting, and scene for every viewer. If I could only watch one movie for the rest of my life, "All the Bright Places" would be it. This film will always be relevant, highlighting an outlook on life that I can turn to for guidance, comfort, and resilience. This movie can fit in any moment of my life, whether serving as a reminder to further appreciate the intricacies of my life or to depend upon my loved ones in the way Violet did on Finch. And most importantly, "All the Bright Places" will always remain a bright place in my own life, somewhere I can forever seek solace, hope, and strength.

Perhaps because of my infatuation with science, I don't believe in luck or fate. Everything is the result of a choice, and for every positive outcome, there is an underlying logic and will. As such, my Stranger Things squad is a carefully devised and calculated group, structured to bring out each character's individual strength and to negate any potential weakness. Jim Hopper. Though intelligent and resourceful, Hopper's strength is primarily derived from his unbridled loyalty and devotion, and once you have Hopper's heart, you have the force of a thousand demogorgans. When Hopper has something--or someone--to fight for, he is an unparalleled force, willing to sacrifice everything and anything to protect those he cares about, as shown by his tragic (but thankfully misleading) ending in Season 3. He will go to unmatched lengths to return to his friends and family--even if it means escaping from frigid, cruel Kamchatka--and isn't afraid to utilize deception and harsh words if necessary to keep Eleven safe. His greatest weakness, his recklessness, can be easily rectified when paired with another character's careful planning and consideration, and when given that support, Hopper is a character who can be unequivocally trusted to fulfill his part of the mission, to not back away when faced with novel, supernatural threats, and to go to any length to protect his friends. Martin Brenner. Cruel, harsh, and unfailingly dedicated to his causes and motivations. Thankfully, there are few people in the world who can remain dedicated to a cause as long and passionately as Brenner did, a consistency highlighted in Season 4 when he is revealed to still be trailing Eleven. Given the right moral guidelines, however, this dedication can be warped to centralize on the new supernatural threat, and when given the right incentive, Brenner will intelligently craft an infallible and cunning plan. While he may never be at the front line (for I imagine he would not hold well against a physical threat), Brenner will be the brains of the mission, ready to position the rest of the squad for victory. Moreover, Brenner and Hopper will likely be in a state of perpetual tension, and as all avid TV-show bingers know, there is nothing better for a hero squad than witty clashing and animosity between members. For Brenner to be part of the squad, however, the third member must have the force and physical strength of multiple people, a member none other than the star of Stranger Things. Eleven. There is no way to fight a supernatural threat without Eleven, for she has consistently been the only one to truly be a match for Stranger Things' villains. Whether battling demogorgans, the Mind Flayer, or Vecna, Eleven has an unmatched power that never fails to save Hawkins and her friends, and when paired with her love for Mike, Hopper, Max, and the rest of her friends, she is an unbridled and passionate force. Eleven's only true weakness--her juvenile innocence--can be easily amended by Brenner's planning and foresight and Hopper's experience and knowledge. Beyond her physical strength, Eleven also has an unparalleled emotional resilience, one that has allowed her to experience horrors and walk away stronger, always prepared to protect her newfound, self-created family. Hopper, Brenner, and Eleven: the dynamic trio, triple threat, and powerhouse squad. Together, they will battle any supernatural threat thrown their way, bringing out each others' strengths, minimizing any lingering weaknesses, and saving Hawkins, one monster at a time.

About 98% of our DNA is denoted as the “dark genome”, a collective term for the thousands of repetitive and non-coding regions with unknown functions. But even with understanding just 2% of the human genome, genetic engineering and therapy have been used to detect predisposition to disorders, modify DNA through viruses, engineer bacteria that clean oil spills, and harness ‘jumping regions’ to insert favorable sequences. Millions have utilized vaccines that manipulate the central dogma of molecular biology during the Covid-19 pandemic, and treatments that modify our immune system cells to attack cancer are being used daily. The future of Genetics is limited only to the curiosity and resilience of researchers, clinicians, and geneticists, a group that I would like to one day identify with. During my sophomore year, I became enamored by molecular biology and chose to pursue my high school's most advanced biology courses, as well as external programs. Within my school, I completed AP Biology and participated in a student-led biology club, but found myself wanting to hone my scientific interests in a more specific field: Genetics. With that in mind, I applied to the University of Rochester's Personalized Medicine Course, and received a partial scholarship that allowed me to attend. Personalized medicine–the usage of a patient’s genome to tailor treatment to their individual condition–showed me how biological research and clinical care can merge into the field of Clinical Genetics, and after the course, I spent hours reading about genetic predisposition to cancer, how viruses impact our genome, and the true significance of the Human Genome Project. Enthralled at the prospect of a future in Clinical Genetics, genetic counseling, or genetic therapy, I then applied to a Biological Research summer camp, and continued to do personal research in my own time. These collective experiences allowed me to emerge as someone fascinated, infatuated, and amazed by the breadth and potential of Clinical Genetics, and eager to pursue biology in both my education and career. Unlike most facets of STEM, Clinical Genetics has the unique ability to boast that the majority of its scientists are women (59%), women who have defied societal and educational odds to earn bachelors, PhDs, and medical degrees in Genetics. Despite this majority, however, there is still a conflict that many of these scientists will face, one honed by centuries of societal expectations and misogyny: that is, how to be both a mother and scientist. There is a pressure for women to delay–or in some cases, end their careers–to become mothers, and in the case of Clinical Genetics, this can significantly derail a career that necessitates a PhD, medical degree, or in some cases, (what I intend to achieve) both. This conflict, however, does not have to be as binary as society portrays, and in my case, I hope to be both. To have a mother’s kindness and consideration as a scientist would allow me to treat patients with a grace that cannot be gained any other way, and to serve as an inspiration to my own daughters, so that they never have to grapple with this timeless conflict. Moreover, women bring a whole new dimension to STEM–a novel curiosity, resilience, and creativity–and as barriers such as the one surrounding mother scientists are dissolved, women can revolutionize science in the way that their female predecessors did. With my passion for science and pride to be a woman, I seek to become a Clinical Geneticist, to harness the potential and power of Genetics to offer patients novel, personalized treatments, and to achieve this as a mother, scientist, and woman.

It's a dewy, gloomy September night, and rain is splattering against the window, fat drops falling in a chorus. The room is lit by a sole light in the corner, and red numbers glow from my alarm clock: 12:30. Calculus, done. Both mine and the worksheet's limits have been found. Chemistry, more or less done. Physics, likewise. College applications. I glance at the clock again, weighing my options: sleep or revise my science portfolio? Sleep or craft the story of my life, modified, of course, to the 650-word version? Sleep or edit my activity section so it is succinct (but not choppy), understandable to the average viewer (but not vague), and reads like poetry (but not pretentious). Well, 1:30 to 7:00 is still five and a half hours of sleep. The epitome of senior year, Taylor Swift's "New Romantics" is rich in lyrical regrets, second-chances, and most importantly, hope for the future. In the chorus, Swift passionately sings "'Cause baby, I could build a castle, out of all the bricks they threw at me", which in her case, alludes to her rise to stardom despite constant criticism from the media. But the heart of these lyrics is universally applicable, an ode to overcoming adversity, using past faults and critiques as the fuel for future endeavors, and accepting all that comes with life, the good and the bad. What could easily be misinterpreted as rage or regret on Swift's part is actually resilience, a strength honed by mistakes and struggle that allows her to emerge victorious, looking out from her castle. It's mid-junior year, and snow pelts the street, gray slush soaking shoes. Mid-terms, the SAT, and AP tests are looming over the winter, ready to throw their bricks one after the other. It's the end of junior year, and school is coming to close, setting as the sun rises higher. Remember, the school counselors say, that the summer before senior year is invaluable. Research, write, study, take standardized tests. Let the bricks come. It's senior year, time to apply. Time to save money for college. Time to excel in coursework. Time to make the most out of the last 10 months with your best friends. The bricks cannot even be registered at this point, their presence so frequent that they block out light and become the ordinary, the expected. It is easy, then, to allow the bricks to hurt, to become dented and discouraged and to view college rejections, academic struggles, and the bittersweet passing of time as red hurling blocks of clay that ought to be avoided at all costs. But what Swift suggests instead is to let the bricks come hurling, and with those bricks, build a castle, a future, a hope, and an impenetrable strength. Don't "wait for trains that aren't just comin'". Prepare for the future, remember the past, but seize the present; take current adversity and warp it. It's a dark, chilled December night, the final days before Winter Break. The same light glows from the corner, and this time the red numbers are slightly lower, flickering: 11:15. This time, however, I write with the bricks, using instead of avoiding them. With each essay I write, each scholarship I strive for, I take a weathered brick with me, building a castle that lifts me above non-existent trains and high school's turmoil. Turns out, bricks make a pretty strong foundation.

There is one thing I have always maintained amidst the turmoil of high school: my passionate love for literature. To me, literature is more than a source of creativity, critical thought, and grammar awareness; it is a portal into the lives of others, a portal that has given me perspective, appreciation, and above all, empathy. With this in mind, you can likely already guess where I turned to first as a timid, slightly precocious freshman: the library. Upon hearing that my local library was offering volunteer positions to high schoolers, I eagerly filled out the paperwork and waited for a response. Little did I know, that one application would irrevocably influence the remainder of my high school years. I spent the rest of my freshman, sophomore, and junior years cutting out pamphlets, making art trays for the Children's Department, and passing out bubbles at events. During this period, my best friend and I also decided to create a club at our high school, one designed to support our local food pantry. This idea was not arbitrary, rather, the result of seeing a cardboard food donation box by the library entrance each time I came in, and with her support, we brought the club to life. In just under two years, our club has assisted the food pantry in a multitude of ways, with food drives, fundraisers, a logo contest, and a town-wide advertisement. Alongside these endeavors, my mom--an elementary teacher's assistant--brought to light another opportunity: one of her third graders was falling drastically below grade level in mathematics. While I initially believed our weekly tutoring sessions to occur for a few months, we have now been meeting for nearly a year, each week at, as you can guess, my local library. And, particularly because of Khaled Hosseini's "A Thousand Splendid Suns", I am now working with a librarian (from, as you can guess once again, my local library) to provide books to Afghan women who are seeking refuge in Rwanda. It was because of literature that I surpassed my natural introversion and timidity to undertake each of these projects. To feel, think, hope, fear, and live as a diversity of characters each time I open a new book has shown me the cruelty and injustices perpetrated in even my own community, where families struggle every day to feed their children and students fall because they cannot afford extensive, professional tutoring. To know that Afghan women are violated, humiliated, and degraded in every aspect of life, has pushed me to assist in the way I know best, to provide what has always given me comfort, confidence, and curiosity. In my future career, I want to continue tackling the inequities and horrors shown by literature; I want to study at a university that will allow me to emerge as a clinical geneticist, one who can help patients navigate the physical, social, and economic barriers in healthcare. I want to be someone whose impact surpasses my hometown, someone who can ease the everyday burdens of many. I want to be someone who supports women living in unfathomable conditions, who, because of censorship and suppression, may truly not know any alternative. And through literature, I will do each of these things and more. As long as there are books, there will always be a way to understand, avenues to explore and characters who, unfortunately, are not completely fictitious. Literature will be my beacon and guide, a source of compassion and understanding, and above all, a way for me to evolve both myself and the world.

Have you ever met someone, who despite your internal red light flashing DON'T JUDGE!, consistently manages to irritate you, with their endless chattering, off-hand comments, unprecedented sarcasm, polarizing political or religious views, or just consistent, stony expression? This, of course, is a rhetorical question, for everyone has succumbed to the temptations of prejudice and judgment. These days, it is impossible to always maintain open-mindedness, to suppress the stereotypes perpetuated by both the media and day-to-day conversations. And while "Anxious People" by Fredrik Backman does not completely rid its readers of their natural assumptions and judgments, it introduces a scenario in which people of various cultural, political, and social backgrounds are forced into captivity together, and only through vulnerability, honesty, and understanding, do all participants make it out. Backman's writing in "Anxious People" can be complimented for a variety of reasons: the witty dialogue between characters, the intentional setting descriptions, and the plot's creativity. But above all, Backman's mastery in prose comes to life as he introduces each character and their individual beliefs and personality. There is no moderation in the characters: the introverted are extremely timid and observant, and the extroverted spurt out all of their opinions, either oblivious or indifferent to the consequences. Stereotypes are heightened to pass the point of plausibility, and young adults are absorbed in their phones while the older generation struggles to type. Those who are aggressive emulate hostility in all their interactions, and the sensitive cry and seek solitude frequently. The characters of "Anxious People" push the reader to judge, to want to skip some pages and reread others. It is not until a series of events unfold, until the characters are isolated with nothing but each other and their own anxieties, that the reader begins to regret their previously formed assumptions. The characters reveal their pasts, regrets, hopes, and sorrows, and form relationships out of fear, compatibility, and admiration. Why each character reacts, acts, and assumes the way they do is elucidated, and tensions dissolve. "Anxious People" shows readers the power of prejudice, and how many relationships we miss out on when we judge others. It shows us what may lie behind the identities of those we avoid, and how deep down, we all share the same anxieties. So if you have ever judged, been judged, or found yourself seemingly alone in a particular anxiety, then "Anxious People" is for you.

Throughout high school, I have participated in a variety of volunteer opportunities at my local library: craft preparation, the Teen Advisory Board, tutoring, and designing biology displays for the Children's Department. At first, the volunteering seemed to be the perfect way to fulfill my high school's fifteen-hour requirement in a comfortable environment, where literature could be found in all areas. But as I became further acquainted with the library staff and patrons, I found myself excited to volunteer each week, especially with the activities that allowed my work to directly impact the children. Entering my junior year, I came across two unique opportunities: tutoring one of my mother's third-grade students and applying my interest and knowledge of biology in the context of a library. I was hesitant to begin tutoring--for the subject was math--but all speculation dissolved upon meeting my student, who was above all, incredibly enthusiastic and motivated. Never once did she show reluctance or annoyance at the multitude of worksheets and activities I presented to her each week, and would cheerfully tell me how she applied her new skills during class. I found that tutoring her was both rewarding and motivating on my end, seeing how my efforts could directly help her academic and social confidence. One day, I hope to pursue a career in clinical genetics, a field that relies upon genetic testing, diagnosis, personalized treatment, and effective communication with patients. To see that my efforts could directly help another--and that my communication skills are sufficient in forming a trusting and comfortable relationship--encourages me in my own dreams. As cliched as it may sound, I truly wish to enter a field that directly helps others--like my mother who teaches and my father who conducts scientific research--and tutoring allowed me to develop my communicative skills and solidify my interest in a career that involves direct interaction with patients. Beyond tutoring, I knew that I wanted to apply my interest in biology outside of the classroom, in a way that would be impactful and meaningful. Having established a relationship with the Children's Department staff, I felt comfortable pitching my idea of a bi-weekly biology display, one that included select books, informational stands, and an interactive activity or lab. With their support and resources, I was able to bring my idea to life and respond to personal requests from patrons with displays. Seeing missing books and activities each week is truly rewarding, for I know that I have helped developed a scientific interest in other children, by sharing my own. Knowing that I can deliver effective information on biology to others reassures me of my own scientific knowledge and curiosity, and allows me to explore branches of science I had not before. Volunteering has above all developed my passion for helping others succeed in their own interests and goals--whether that be math or science--and showed me the significance of establishing communicative skills. I have always been passionate about leveling the resources available to students when pursuing academia--for there is a large disparity--and by being able to provide tutoring and scientific resources, feel that I am doing my part. My tutoring has always been two-sided: in helping children develop their STEM curiosity, my own has grown and flourished, and prepared me for a future in clinical genetics, as well as a lifelong interest in community service.

About 98% of our DNA is denoted as the “dark genome”, with thousands of repetitive or non-coding regions that have unknown functions. But even with understanding just 2% of the genome, genetic engineering and therapy have been used to detect predisposition to disorders, modify DNA through viruses, engineer bacteria that clean oil spills, and harness ‘jumping regions’ to insert favorable sequences. Millions have utilized vaccines that manipulate the central dogma of molecular biology during the Covid-19 pandemic, and treatments that modify our immune system cells to attack cancer are being used daily. The future of genetics is limited only to the curiosity and resilience of researchers, clinicians, and geneticists, a group that I would like to one day identify with. During my sophomore year, I became enamored with molecular biology and chose to pursue my high school's most advanced biology courses, as well as external programs. Within my school, I completed AP Biology and participated in a student-led biology club, but found myself wanting to hone my scientific interests in a more specific field: Genetics. With this in mind, I applied to the University of Rochester's Personalized Medicine Course, and received a partial scholarship that allowed me to attend. In this course, I learned more than molecular genetics and how clinical diagnosis works: I learned about my future. As I was taking this online course, I realized that I was passionate about the projects and assignments I was completing; the course did not feel like work but instead the beginning of a path. I could see myself pursuing the same careers that the course teachers did, and enjoyed hearing about genetics from scientific, political, and social points of view. After the course, I decided to study Genetics further through my dad's old textbooks (he is a biologist), and spent hours reading about genetic predisposition to cancer, how viruses can impact our genome, and the true significance of the Human Genome Project. Enthralled at the prospect of a future in clinical genetics, genetic counseling, or genetic therapy, I applied to a Biological Research summer camp, and continued to do personal research in my own time. My passion for biology flourished at the Biological Research camp as I learned different scientific techniques and research components. I was able to perform everything from CRISPR-Cas9 to protein purification to bacterial transformation, and completed a mini scientific paper with a research question of my group's design. Beyond teaching me skills I could utilize in high school and college, the camp solidified my interest in genetics and allowed me to research colleges and universities that excelled in biology offerings. Genetics is a subset of biology that is boundless, and can irrevocably change the nature of disease, innovation, and humanity. I hope to deepen my scientific education in the next few years, so that one day, I will find myself at the lab bench with other geneticists, elucidating the very basis of life.