Calculus used to feel intimidating to me, and as I moved through Calculus AB and BC, that perception began to shift. I realized that calculus is not just about solving complex equations; it is about learning how to make sense of change, patterns, and the unknown. That realization transformed how I see both math and my future in STEM. My passion for astrobiology is rooted in big questions: How does life begin? What conditions allow it to survive? Could it exist beyond Earth? Calculus gives me a way to explore those questions with more than curiosity—it gives me tools to model them. Whether it is understanding how a planet’s temperature changes over time, how radiation levels fluctuate, or how microbial life might adapt in extreme environments, calculus turns imagination into something measurable and testable. Concepts like rates of change and accumulation are not abstract—they are directly connected to how systems evolve in space and on Earth. One moment that stood out to me was when I began applying derivatives to real-world scenarios. Instead of just finding the slope of a curve, I started seeing it as a way to describe motion, growth, and change. Suddenly, problems felt less like exercises and more like interpretations of reality. That shift made calculus feel meaningful rather than mechanical. What surprised me most is how calculus changes the way you think. It teaches you to break down problems, to sit with uncertainty, and to keep working even when the answer is not immediately clear. There were moments when I struggled, but those moments built persistence and confidence. I learned that difficulty is not a sign to stop; it is often a sign that you are growing. This mindset extends far beyond math and into every challenge I face. In today’s world, where STEM fields are rapidly expanding, calculus is a foundation. The same concepts that help me think about life on other planets are also used in fields like engineering, computer science, and environmental science. Engineers use calculus to design safe and efficient structures, computer scientists use it to optimize algorithms, and environmental scientists use it to model climate systems. Calculus connects ideas across disciplines, making it possible to solve complex, real-world problems. To students with a passion for STEM who may feel intimidated by calculus, I would say this: it is okay to find it challenging. What matters is that you stay curious and keep trying. Ask questions, make mistakes, and give yourself time to understand. Once you begin to see how calculus explains the world around you, it becomes less of an obstacle and more of a powerful lens. For me, calculus has become more than a class—it is a tool that brings me closer to understanding the universe and my place within it. It has shown me that even the most complex ideas can become accessible with patience and effort. That is why I believe calculus is not only important in STEM, but also deeply empowering for anyone willing to take on the challenge.

In California, I’ve built my competitive athletic life around two arenas that might not seem connected at first: the digital world of ESports and the snow-covered slopes where I competed in USASA snowboard events. As a high school student-athlete, these experiences have taught me that commitment and teamwork are daily choices that shape who I am in and out of the classroom. As Varsity Captain of my school’s Valorant ESports team, I’ve learned that leadership goes far beyond being the best player. My role includes organizing practice schedules, leading strategy meetings, and analyzing tournament footage so we can understand our strengths and weaknesses as a team. In-game, I’m responsible for making quick decisions under pressure, but I’ve realized that how I communicate matters just as much as what I call. When a round doesn’t go our way, I focus on keeping my teammates confident and focused, turning frustration into constructive feedback. I’ve helped create a culture where we treat mistakes as information and every match as an opportunity to learn. That mindset has encouraged younger players to join and stay with the team, and I’ve spent time mentoring them, teaching fundamentals and sportsmanship so they feel welcomed and supported. Snowboarding has also shaped my resilience from a different angle. Competing in USASA events means early mornings, long drives, and training in conditions that are often cold, uncomfortable, and unpredictable. There is no “pause” button on the mountain; each run requires full commitment even when the risk of falling is real. Those experiences have taught me that progress is rarely linear and that resilience is built one decision at a time when I get back up, adjust my approach, and try again. Balancing rigorous AP coursework with ESports, snowboarding and my roles in theatre required serious dedication and discipline. I plan my weeks around practices, scrims, and competitions, making sure that assignments, projects, and study sessions all fit. When I’m on stage or competing, I stay in communication with my teachers, turning in work early or making up assignments promptly. In group projects and class discussions, I bring the same mindset I use as a captain and teammate. I listen carefully, organize tasks, and encourage others to contribute so that we succeed together. These habits have helped me maintain strong grades while staying deeply involved in athletics. My ambitions are rooted in these experiences. I want to continue snowboarding, competing in ESports, and try a new sport like crew to help create more inclusive, high-performance environments for student-athletes. I see athletics as more than a competition, but as a way to build community, inspire younger students, and model what it looks like to pursue my passions with integrity and persistence. Being a student-athlete has shown me that being my best self means more than winning; it means leading by example, balancing my passions and inspiring others into my absence.

A core piece of my identity that shapes how I view the world is my sense of community. I believe community is meaningful when people choose to work together toward a common goal. Attending a diverse Title 1 school, I was inspired to build an inclusive community where we can all adapt to our cultural differences and celebrate our cultural diversity. ​ Throughout my time at Freedom High School, I collaborated with teachers and peers to build a community of clubs and teams that will thrive beyond the class of 2026 built on the spirt of inclusion. I started the LGBTQ+ club and Model UN club and these clubs inspired me to try out for musical theatre. In all these roles, I learned the importance of making others feel seen and heard when you welcome, celebrate, and cherish them in psychologically safe environments. I learned that leadership is less about titles and more about creating safety, joy, and courage for our collective growth in a beloved community. Now, I measure my success in building a community by my ability to inspire others to engage into my absence. I am thankful for the opportunity to learn from and with such a diverse population that will support me in collaborating with peers as we tackle the world’s biggest challenges or lend a helping hand. Curiosity is the compass that guides my academic journey in Geological and Planetary Sciences that is sustained by collaboration and community. I’ve always been fascinated by Earth’s interconnected systems and the forces that shape them, from the minute biochemical reactions in water to planetary evolution on a cosmic scale. From the bay shorelines I’ve called home to the cosmic frontiers I long to explore, my curiosity about life’s evolution and sustainability has driven me to ask questions and look for answers in Earth’s laboratory. I aspire to become an astrobiologist and join the scientific community in researching extreme environments where humans can survive and thrive. Moments with teachers, students and family taught me that science flourishes collaboratively, shaping my worldview that inquiry is a collective search. This curiosity drives my ambition to contribute meaningfully to the scientific community. Financially, my mother is struggling as a special education teacher after she left an abusive relationship and gave us a new start in California where we moved from the east coast four years ago. This scholarship could be the difference in my attending a school that I want to attend versus one that is more affordable.

2. A highly plausible next major scientific and engineering breakthrough is asteroid mining. Starting with extracting water and basic materials in space and later expanding to high‑value metals from near‑Earth asteroids. This transition from merely visiting asteroids to using them as resource depots could fundamentally reshape how humanity accesses critical materials and expands into the solar system. The first big step will not be giant platinum payloads landing on Earth, but robotic missions that autonomously locate, anchor to, and process small near‑Earth asteroids. Early missions have already shown that it is possible to rendezvous with and sample asteroids. Building on that, the key innovation will be robotic processing units to extract water and volatiles directly on the asteroid. That water can be purified for life support or split into hydrogen and oxygen to make rocket propellant. Once this becomes reliable and somewhat affordable, we effectively gain gas stations and supply depots in space. The immediate global impact is on space infrastructure rather than everyday consumer markets. Launching mass from Earth is extremely expensive; if spacecraft can refuel and restock materials in orbit or in cislunar space, missions to the Moon, Mars, and the outer planets become cheaper and more frequent. This could enable permanent human and robotic outposts, large orbital factories, and even solar‑power satellites built mostly from asteroid‑derived metals. In turn, that supports Earth’s clean‑energy transition by making it more realistic to generate large amounts of power in space and beam it down, or by supplying abundant metals for batteries, electronics, and renewable‑energy hardware without tearing up as much of Earth’s surface. Over the longer term, asteroid mining may extend to nickel‑iron and platinum‑group metals. Asteroids contain much higher metal concentrations than typical terrestrial ore deposits. Carefully managed, this could ease pressure on fragile ecosystems and reduce environmentally destructive mining in biodiverse or conflict‑affected areas. It might also cut some of the leverage that a few countries currently hold over global supplies of rare, strategically important minerals. However, these benefits are not automatic. A rapid influx of metals, if dumped into terrestrial markets without coordination, could destabilize economies that depend heavily on traditional mining and deepen inequality between high‑tech and resource‑exporting nations. This leads to my questioning the geopolitical and ethical side of the breakthrough. Current space treaties say that outer space is the “province of all humankind,” but they are vague about who owns extracted resources and how benefits should be shared. As asteroid mining becomes practical, there will be fierce debates over property rights, licensing, and taxation. Without thoughtful global governance, a small group of wealthy states and corporations could monopolize off‑world resources, concentrating power and wealth even further. If new frameworks deliberately build in profit‑sharing mechanisms, technology transfer, and open scientific access, asteroid mining could be used to support more equitable development to fund climate adaptation, education, or health initiatives worldwide. Finally, this advancement will change how societies think about scarcity and risk. On one hand, knowing that the solar system holds enough metals and volatiles to support civilization for millennia could reduce resource scarcity mindsets and make long‑term planning easier. On the other, it may tempt humanity to see Earth as less unique or to defer hard choices about consumption and conservation. The net effect will depend on how deliberately we integrate asteroid resources into a broader ethic of planetary stewardship. In sum, the move to autonomous, in‑space resource extraction from asteroids—starting with water and moving toward metals—has the potential to unlock a space‑based industrial ecosystem, relieve some terrestrial resource constraints, and significantly shift global economic and political dynamics, for better or for worse.