The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. Through 600 hours of community service, I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. Through 600 hours of community service, I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and managed all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and managed all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

As a representative of the African American engineering community at Cornell University, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin-off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year in high school, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. Through 600 hours of community service, I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin-off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin-off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin-off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure based on my high school legacy: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin-off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

The expectation for a first-generation Ethiopian American has always been to pursue the bright stars of societal liberty, the stars that my parents could only envision for 20 years in Ethiopia’s communist regime. Yet, cosmic obstacles have attempted to diverge my potentially bounteous path. Like the design of a skilled potter, my onerous experiences have profoundly molded the decorated ceramic defining my identity. Growing up, my energetic and oblivious nature overlooked my mother’s burdensome responsibility for learning English while attending a community college. As my weary father worked two low-paying jobs, I spent most days sneakily consuming soda and pizza in a 200 square foot bedroom shared with my little sister. The clay had been thrown onto the potter’s wheel: my obsession was strangely revealed in an elementary school incident. Due to my provocative character, my irritated second-grade teacher forced me to sit facing the cornerstone of an empty wall several times. She recommended my parents to appoint a checkup with my doctor; I was told to take a diagnostic test for ADHD. I visited my doctor, and she thought my teacher was crazy! However, she was extremely concerned with my weight: my mother was encouraged to start me on a diet or implement me in physical activities. Without adequate financial tools to supply nourishment, my mom’s childhood attachment to soccer was the solitary solution. It became the correct decision in my split path to the stars of freedom. That summer, I reluctantly watched the 2010 World Cup Finals in South Africa on a rusty 25” Sony television. However, by the end of the soccer tournament, I grew a fascination for the iconic champion David Villa. Further, I would wake up at 4:30 AM on Saturday mornings and tip-toe my way down creaking stairs to watch Manchester United F.C. play halfway across the world! I started kicking rolled up Nike socks around the house; evidently, my mother’s ingenious plan came to life. I eagerly joined a local soccer academy. Ironically, my body’s dense structure ignited a fierce long-range free-kick and clearance ability as obesity dissolved into stamina. The pressing fingers of the potter created the vessel’s physical shape. Now, the idiosyncratic decorations of my academic and spiritual intellect were destined to form. Remembering my second-grade teacher’s comments, I knew I had a point to prove in my final year of elementary school. More specifically, my mastery of mental multiplication and fraction division translated to my involvement in math tutoring sessions. Thus, it arranged the trail of my extensive participation as a Mu Alpha Theta tutor. Witnessing the students’ faces illuminate with a vivid smile because they grasped the processes of calculus provided an invaluable personal experience of joyful satisfaction. Moreover, my curious outlook activated an investigation of my Christian belief system. In the sixth grade, I slowly dissected journalistic discoveries, doctrinal frameworks, and philosophical debates. As I processed the knowledge into debating skills, I would expostulate the meaning of life among my friends at soccer practices. In these conversations, little did I know that I was constructing the expertise to passionately serve as my church’s youth teacher down the road. Although a turn of events on the potter’s wheel manipulated my financial and social childhood hardships into coalesced communities, the ceramic of my environment would come crashing down to its bare basis. Approaching the early stages of my teenage years in the eighth grade, I began to examine my academic prospects in my neighborhood’s high school. My worried subconscious reflected on my expectations, as I placed the responsibility of returning my parent’s favor of providing America’s opportunistic education at the forefront of my mind. “We need to move to fulfill your dreams. To fulfill my dream of being an aerospace engineer,” I told my parents. I overwhelmingly sacrificed an immeasurable connection with my soccer academy, church, and neighborhood friends, while my parents had to work demanding overtime hours to fund the economic stipulation of an improved schooling system. I faced the challenge of reconstructing a community in a white-majority school. In history class, I encountered racial slurs during discussions about slavery. Feeling far from home, I reminisced on the splendid memories with my soccer, school, and church groups. The reinforced clay was placed on the wheel once more. Therefore, it conformed to outlast my burdens. I carried myself in my Christian and African American identity: I set my mind on the unifying words of Jesus Christ. I would develop new friendships, become the junior varsity soccer team’s captain, and establish Key Club for the first time in my high school’s history. The potter proceeds to decorate my expedition with each consolidated vessel. Still, I can decide to let the meteors of life destroy me or pursue the bright stars of societal liberty. Time will tell, but I choose freedom.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure during the pandemic: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. For the next eight years, I will develop my body into peak performance to prepare for NASA’s long-duration flight astronaut physical. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin-off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and managed all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The expectation for a first-generation Ethiopian American has always been to pursue the bright stars of societal liberty, the stars that my parents could only envision for 20 years in Ethiopia’s communist regime. Yet, cosmic obstacles have attempted to diverge my potentially bounteous path. Like the design of a skilled potter, my onerous experiences have profoundly molded the decorated ceramic defining my identity. Growing up, my energetic and oblivious nature overlooked my mother’s burdensome responsibility for learning English while attending a community college. As my weary father worked two low-paying jobs, I spent most days sneakily consuming soda and pizza in a 200 square foot bedroom shared with my little sister. The clay had been thrown onto the potter’s wheel: my obsession was strangely revealed in an elementary school incident. Due to my provocative character, my irritated second-grade teacher forced me to sit facing the cornerstone of an empty wall several times. She recommended my parents to appoint a checkup with my doctor; I was told to take a diagnostic test for ADHD. I visited my doctor, and she thought my teacher was crazy! However, she was extremely concerned with my weight: my mother was encouraged to start me on a diet or implement me in physical activities. Without adequate financial tools to supply nourishment, my mom’s childhood attachment to soccer was the solitary solution. It became the correct decision in my split path to the stars of freedom. That summer, I reluctantly watched the 2010 World Cup Finals in South Africa on a rusty 25” Sony television. However, by the end of the soccer tournament, I grew a fascination for the iconic champion David Villa. Further, I would wake up at 4:30 AM on Saturday mornings and tip-toe my way down creaking stairs to watch Manchester United F.C. play halfway across the world! I started kicking rolled up Nike socks around the house; evidently, my mother’s ingenious plan came to life. I eagerly joined a local soccer academy. Ironically, my body’s dense structure ignited a fierce long-range free-kick and clearance ability as obesity dissolved into stamina. The pressing fingers of the potter created the vessel’s physical shape. Now, the idiosyncratic decorations of my academic and spiritual intellect were destined to form. Remembering my second-grade teacher’s comments, I knew I had a point to prove in my final year of elementary school. More specifically, my mastery of mental multiplication and fraction division translated to my involvement in math tutoring sessions. Thus, it arranged the trail of my extensive participation as a Mu Alpha Theta tutor. Witnessing the students’ faces illuminate with a vivid smile because they grasped the processes of calculus provided an invaluable personal experience of joyful satisfaction. Moreover, my curious outlook activated an investigation of my Christian belief system. In the sixth grade, I slowly dissected journalistic discoveries, doctrinal frameworks, and philosophical debates. As I processed the knowledge into debating skills, I would expostulate the meaning of life among my friends at soccer practices. In these conversations, little did I know that I was constructing the expertise to passionately serve as my church’s youth teacher down the road. Although a turn of events on the potter’s wheel manipulated my financial and social childhood hardships into coalesced communities, the ceramic of my environment would come crashing down to its bare basis. Approaching the early stages of my teenage years in the eighth grade, I began to examine my academic prospects in my neighborhood’s high school. My worried subconscious reflected on my expectations, as I placed the responsibility of returning my parent’s favor of providing America’s opportunistic education at the forefront of my mind. “We need to move to fulfill your dreams. To fulfill my dream of being an aerospace engineer,” I told my parents. I overwhelmingly sacrificed an immeasurable connection with my soccer academy, church, and neighborhood friends, while my parents had to work demanding overtime hours to fund the economic stipulation of an improved schooling system. I faced the challenge of reconstructing a community in a white-majority school. In history class, I encountered racial slurs during discussions about slavery. Feeling far from home, I reminisced on the splendid memories with my soccer, school, and church groups. The reinforced clay was placed on the wheel once more. Therefore, it conformed to outlast my burdens. I carried myself in my Christian and African American identity: I set my mind on the unifying words of Jesus Christ. I would develop new friendships, become the junior varsity soccer team’s captain, and establish Key Club for the first time in my high school’s history. The potter proceeds to decorate my expedition with each consolidated vessel. Still, I can decide to let the meteors of life destroy me or pursue the bright stars of societal liberty. Time will tell, but I choose freedom. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize my education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Most importantly, I had just lost my great uncle. He had suffered from a critical kidney condition for over 1.5 years. A humorous, loving, and relatable brother-like figure was gone. I had lost all motivation to succeed academically and athletically. However, I remembered the visa. Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and managed all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. Further, my long-term career goal is to become a mission specialist astronaut. The process requires at least a Master of Science degree, two years of professional experience after degree completion, and two more years of professional training with NASA. After attaining a Bachelor of Science as a Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University, I will strive for a Master of Science as an Aerospace Engineering major at California Institute of Technology’s graduate school. Thus, my zealous ambition to maximize education and fitness levels will allow me to be successful in NASA’s Astronaut Selection Program. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my mental health infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and managed all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my mental health infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and managed all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my mental health infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and managed all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure during the pandemic: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute to the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" project team, Cru Cornell, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a future pastor, mechanical engineer, and astronaut, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute in the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a “Charles R. Ullman & Associates Educational Support Scholarship” recipient, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute in the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, Cornell Academy FC club soccer team, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure during the pandemic: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a “COVID-19 Perspective Scholarship” recipient, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. The fecund of this new mentality will occur as a mechanical engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering. As a representative of the African American engineering community, I plan to contribute in the following labs, programs, and activities throughout my undergraduate experience: Cornell's Co-Optima research program, the Sobhani Lab, "AguaCornell" and "Cornell Rocketry" project teams, and the Christian Union Vita organization. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a legacy-driven, fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. As a “Brady Cobin Law Group "Expect the Unexpected" Scholarship” recipient, I plan to plant the mustard seeds of opportunities for the next generation of minority engineers, aspiring astronauts, and church servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that. As a future “Rosemarie STEM Scholarship” recipient and representative, I aspire to “always give back” by planting the mustard seeds of opportunity for the next generation of engineers, astronauts, and church community servants.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established the Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. In the midst of a pandemic negatively impacting the valuable lives of society, my sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The expectation for a first-generation Ethiopian American has always been to pursue the bright stars of societal liberty, the stars that my parents could only envision for 20 years in Ethiopia’s communist regime. Yet, cosmic obstacles have attempted to diverge my potentially bounteous path. Like the design of a skilled potter, my onerous experiences have profoundly molded the decorated ceramic defining my identity. Growing up, my energetic and oblivious nature overlooked my mother’s burdensome responsibility for learning English while attending a community college. As my weary father worked two low-paying jobs, I spent most days sneakily consuming soda and pizza in a 200 square foot bedroom shared with my little sister. The clay had been thrown onto the potter’s wheel: my obsession was strangely revealed in an elementary school incident. Due to my provocative character, my irritated second-grade teacher forced me to sit facing the cornerstone of an empty wall several times. She recommended my parents to appoint a checkup with my doctor; I was told to take a diagnostic test for ADHD. I visited my doctor, and she thought my teacher was crazy! However, she was extremely concerned with my weight: my mother was encouraged to start me on a diet or implement me in physical activities. Without adequate financial tools to supply nourishment, my mom’s childhood attachment to soccer was the solitary solution. It became the correct decision in my split path to the stars of freedom. That summer, I reluctantly watched the 2010 World Cup Finals in South Africa on a rusty 25” Sony television. However, by the end of the soccer tournament, I grew a fascination for the iconic champion David Villa. Further, I would wake up at 4:30 AM on Saturday mornings and tip-toe my way down creaking stairs to watch Manchester United F.C. play halfway across the world! I started kicking rolled up Nike socks around the house; evidently, my mother’s ingenious plan came to life. I eagerly joined a local soccer academy. Ironically, my body’s dense structure ignited a fierce long-range free-kick and clearance ability as obesity dissolved into stamina. The pressing fingers of the potter created the vessel’s physical shape. Now, the idiosyncratic decorations of my academic and spiritual intellect were destined to form. Remembering my second-grade teacher’s comments, I knew I had a point to prove in my final year of elementary school. More specifically, my mastery of mental multiplication and fraction division translated to my involvement in math tutoring sessions. Thus, it arranged the trail of my extensive participation as a Mu Alpha Theta tutor. Witnessing the students’ faces illuminate with a vivid smile because they grasped the processes of calculus provided an invaluable personal experience of joyful satisfaction. Moreover, my curious outlook activated an investigation of my Christian belief system. In the sixth grade, I slowly dissected journalistic discoveries, doctrinal frameworks, and philosophical debates. As I processed the knowledge into debating skills, I would expostulate the meaning of life among my friends at soccer practices. In these conversations, little did I know that I was constructing the expertise to passionately serve as my church’s youth teacher down the road. Although a turn of events on the potter’s wheel manipulated my financial and social childhood hardships into coalesced communities, the ceramic of my environment would come crashing down to its bare basis. Approaching the early stages of my teenage years in the eighth grade, I began to examine my academic prospects in my neighborhood’s high school. My worried subconscious reflected on my expectations, as I placed the responsibility of returning my parent’s favor of providing America’s opportunistic education at the forefront of my mind. “We need to move to fulfill your dreams. To fulfill my dream of being an aerospace engineer,” I told my parents. I overwhelmingly sacrificed an immeasurable connection with my soccer academy, church, and neighborhood friends, while my parents had to work demanding overtime hours to fund the economic stipulation of an improved schooling system. I faced the challenge of reconstructing a community in a white-majority school. In history class, I encountered racial slurs during discussions about slavery. Feeling far from home, I reminisced on the splendid memories with my soccer, school, and church groups. The reinforced clay was placed on the wheel once more. Therefore, it conformed to outlast my burdens. I carried myself in my Christian and African American identity: I set my mind on the unifying words of Jesus Christ. I would develop new friendships, become the junior varsity soccer team’s captain, and establish Key Club for the first time in my high school’s history. The potter proceeds to decorate my expedition with each consolidated vessel. Still, I can decide to let the meteors of life destroy me or pursue the bright stars of societal liberty. Time will tell, but I choose freedom.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Beyond the Pew Engineering Quad, Cornell’s diverse activities will help me pursue my love for soccer and Christian theology. STEM students tend to be incorrectly associated with athletic incompetence. By synthesizing my accurate finishing ability with advanced aerodynamic comprehension, the doubters will be proven wrong as I represent the Cornell Engineering community on the Cornell Academy FC club soccer team. I can’t wait for hilarious nutmegs, wild celebrations, and memorable game-winners. On a social aspect, I fancy virtuously serving the Sibley School community with Cornell’s Christian Union Vita organization. Being an ambassador for Jesus Christ in Ithaca, New York is a whole new challenge; therefore, finding a supportive network of fellow believers is crucial. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Beyond the Pew Engineering Quad, Cornell’s diverse activities will help me pursue my love for soccer and Christian theology. STEM students tend to be incorrectly associated with athletic incompetence. By synthesizing my accurate finishing ability with advanced aerodynamic comprehension, the doubters will be proven wrong as I represent the Cornell Engineering community on the Cornell Academy FC club soccer team. I can’t wait for hilarious nutmegs, wild celebrations, and memorable game-winners. On a social aspect, I fancy virtuously serving the Sibley School community with Cornell’s Christian Union Vita organization. Being an ambassador for Jesus Christ in Ithaca, New York is a whole new challenge; therefore, finding a supportive network of fellow believers is crucial. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself. Cornell University's Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering is where the first fruits will blossom.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Beyond the Pew Engineering Quad, Cornell’s diverse activities will help me pursue my love for soccer and Christian theology. STEM students tend to be incorrectly associated with athletic incompetence. By synthesizing my accurate finishing ability with advanced aerodynamic comprehension, the doubters will be proven wrong as I represent the Cornell Engineering community on the Cornell Academy FC club soccer team. I can’t wait for hilarious nutmegs, wild celebrations, and memorable game-winners. On a social aspect, I fancy virtuously serving the Sibley School community with Cornell’s Christian Union Vita organization. Being an ambassador for Jesus Christ in Ithaca, New York is a whole new challenge; therefore, finding a supportive network of fellow believers is crucial. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck and demoralized Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. The most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of 5 students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in the span of 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus. Concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The mature mustard tree had sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community opportunities, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell University’s Sibley School provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Beyond the Pew Engineering Quad, Cornell’s diverse activities will help me pursue my love for soccer and Christian theology. STEM students tend to be incorrectly associated with athletic incompetence. By synthesizing my accurate finishing ability with advanced aerodynamic comprehension, the doubters will be proven wrong as I represent the Cornell Engineering community on the Cornell Academy FC club soccer team. I can’t wait for hilarious nutmegs, wild celebrations, and memorable game-winners. On a social aspect, I fancy virtuously serving the Sibley School community with Cornell’s Christian Union Vita organization. Being an ambassador for Jesus Christ in Ithaca, New York is a whole new challenge; therefore, finding a supportive network of fellow believers is crucial. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Beyond the Pew Engineering Quad, Cornell’s diverse activities will help me pursue my love for soccer and Christian theology. STEM students tend to be incorrectly associated with athletic incompetence. By synthesizing my accurate finishing ability with advanced aerodynamic comprehension, the doubters will be proven wrong as I represent the Cornell Engineering community on the Cornell Academy FC club soccer team. I can’t wait for hilarious nutmegs, wild celebrations, and memorable game-winners. On a social aspect, I fancy virtuously serving the Sibley School community with Cornell’s Christian Union Vita organization. Being an ambassador for Jesus Christ in Ithaca, New York is a whole new challenge; therefore, finding a supportive network of fellow believers is crucial. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

Born in a small Bonga town of southwestern Ethiopia, Kitaw Ejigu was destined for an impoverished life. However, his hunger for the innovative nature of knowledge created Ethiopia’s first aerospace scientist, NASA’s former Chief of Spacecraft and Satellite Systems Engineer, and the developer of the Global Positioning System. As a first-generation Ethiopian American who shares the same birthdate as the late African trailblazer, I long to continue in the astronautical footsteps of Dr. Ejigu’s legacy. The interdisciplinary Mechanical Engineering major at Cornell’s Sibley School of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering provides the perfect launchpad for my aspirations. I carry a deep admiration for NASA’s influential council members due to Dr. Ejigu. Hence, I can’t wait to meet Professor Peck—NASA’s former Chief Technologist. His inspirational TEDx Talks have propelled my exploration of aerospace engineering. I began studying the Space Shuttle’s components from former astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s online (edX application) course. I will tackle the obstacles of the ideal rocket equation with my mastery of Computer-Aided Design through Professor Peck’s special research project of designing and launching a 50k nanosatellite to outer space. In addition, the Sibley School’s exclusive electives like “Spacecraft Technology and Systems Architecture” will broaden my astronautical cognitive abilities. Thus, the combination of my technical intellect and a collaborative mindset will contribute to the “Cornell Rocketry” project’s Structural Subteam. With the self-proposed “Fly High Kobe III” rocket name, I feel it's about time for a Cornell first-place finish at the Spaceport America Cup. At Cornell’s Co-Optima research program, I hope to work under the distinguished Professor Avedisian for the analysis of droplet combustion dynamics. Participating in the unique opportunity to replicate the function of tangible algae-derived biodiesels at the International Space Station’s facilities is a jaw-dropping dream of mine. I believe that the development of high-performing, sustainable engines can open doors for our planet’s ecological healing. Further, I plan to take part in the Sobhani Lab to create energy management devices that will decrease up to 50% of carbon emissions. Providing affordable biofuel resources to developing countries like my beloved Ethiopia is a substantial issue, so I want to optimize the efficiency of biofuel blends while minimizing the cost of producing biomass from photobioreactors. I think Dr. Ejigu would be so proud from above! On a one-month family trip to the capital and suburbs of Ethiopia, the YES and Ambo mineral water brands were my only sources of drinkable water; I was exasperated as about 33% of the Abyssinian population lack access to clean water. However, Cornell’s incentive to improve the demoralizing conditions of the Third World through Professor Weber-Shirk’s AguaClara Cornell project team is impressive. I plan to advocate for a non-electric water plant to be located in Dr. Ejigu’s hometown. For me, access to water and sanitation is a basic human right, so I will join Cornell’s fight for the distribution of sustainable water technologies. Beyond the Pew Engineering Quad, Cornell’s diverse activities will help me pursue my love for soccer and Christian theology. STEM students tend to be incorrectly associated with athletic incompetence. By synthesizing my accurate finishing ability with advanced aerodynamic comprehension, the doubters will be proven wrong as I represent the Cornell Engineering community on the Cornell Academy FC club soccer team. I can’t wait for hilarious nutmegs, wild celebrations, and memorable game-winners. On a social aspect, I fancy virtuously serving the Sibley School community with Cornell’s Christian Union Vita organization. Being an ambassador for Jesus Christ in Ithaca, New York is a whole new challenge; therefore, finding a supportive network of fellow believers is crucial. Cornell’s Professor Peck once highlighted in a TEDxMidAtlantic Talk, “When we take on these hard [astronautical] problems, naturally innovation happens. We end up solving problems that spin off...into every other part of our daily lives.” As I travel with a redefined pace on the Sibley School’s path paved by my hero Dr. Ejigu, I anticipate doing just that.

The expectation for a first-generation American has always been to pursue the bright stars of societal liberty, the stars that my parents could only envision for 20 years in Ethiopia’s communist regime. Yet, cosmic obstacles have attempted to diverge my potentially bounteous path. Like the design of a skilled potter, my onerous experiences have profoundly molded the decorated ceramic defining my identity. Growing up, my energetic and oblivious nature overlooked my mother’s burdensome responsibility for learning English while attending a community college. As my weary father worked two low-paying jobs, I spent most days sneakily consuming soda and pizza in a 200 square foot bedroom shared with my little sister. The clay had been thrown onto the potter’s wheel: my obsession was strangely revealed in an elementary school incident. Due to my provocative character, my irritated second-grade teacher forced me to sit facing the cornerstone of an empty wall several times. She recommended my parents to appoint a checkup with my doctor; I was told to take a diagnostic test for ADHD. I visited my doctor, and she thought my teacher was crazy! However, she was extremely concerned with my weight: my mother was encouraged to start me on a diet or implement me in physical activities. Without adequate financial tools to supply nourishment, my mom’s childhood attachment to soccer was the solitary solution. It became the correct decision in my split path to the stars of freedom. That summer, I reluctantly watched the 2010 World Cup Finals in South Africa on a rusty 25” Sony television. However, by the end of the soccer tournament, I grew a fascination for the iconic champion David Villa. Further, I would wake up at 4:30 AM on Saturday mornings and tip-toe my way down creaking stairs to watch Manchester United F.C. play halfway across the world! I started kicking rolled up Nike socks around the house; evidently, my mother’s ingenious plan came to life. I eagerly joined a local soccer academy. Ironically, my body’s dense structure ignited a fierce long-range free-kick and clearance ability as obesity dissolved into stamina. The pressing fingers of the potter created the vessel’s physical shape. Now, the idiosyncratic decorations of my academic and spiritual intellect were destined to form. Remembering my second-grade teacher’s comments, I knew I had a point to prove in my final year of elementary school. More specifically, my mastery of mental multiplication and fraction division translated to my involvement in math tutoring sessions. Thus, it arranged the trail of my extensive participation as a Mu Alpha Theta tutor. Witnessing the students’ faces illuminate with a vivid smile because they grasped the processes of calculus provided an invaluable personal experience of joyful satisfaction. Moreover, my curious outlook activated an investigation of my Christian belief system. In the sixth grade, I slowly dissected journalistic discoveries, doctrinal frameworks, and philosophical debates. As I processed the knowledge into debating skills, I would expostulate the meaning of life among my friends at soccer practices. In these conversations, little did I know that I was constructing the expertise to passionately serve as my church’s youth teacher down the road. Although a turn of events on the potter’s wheel manipulated my financial and social childhood hardships into coalesced communities, the ceramic of my environment would come crashing down to its bare basis. Approaching the early stages of my teenage years in the eighth grade, I began to examine my academic prospects in my neighborhood’s high school. My worried subconscious reflected on my expectations, as I placed the responsibility of returning my parent’s favor of providing America’s opportunistic education at the forefront of my mind. “We need to move to fulfill your dreams. To fulfill my dream of being an aerospace engineer,” I told my parents. I overwhelmingly sacrificed an immeasurable connection with my soccer academy, church, and neighborhood friends, while my parents had to work demanding overtime hours to fund the economic stipulation of an improved schooling system. I faced the challenge of reconstructing a community in a white-majority school. In history class, I encountered racial slurs during discussions about slavery. Feeling far from home, I reminisced on the splendid memories with my soccer, school, and church groups. The reinforced clay was placed on the wheel once more. Therefore, it conformed to outlast my burdens. I carried myself in my Christian and African American identity: I set my mind on the unifying words of Jesus Christ. I would develop new friendships, become the junior varsity soccer team’s captain, and establish Key Club for the first time in my high school’s history. The potter proceeds to decorate my expedition with each consolidated vessel. Still, I can decide to let the meteors of life destroy me or pursue the bright stars of societal liberty. Time will tell, but I choose freedom.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.

The diversity immigrant visa program is a raffled one-way ticket to America for 50,000 emigrants around the world each year. For me, however, it highlights my ambitious parent’s impossible chance to escape a famine-struck Ethiopia with a mere 500 dollars in their pockets. Placing their first steps on the land of the free, a mustard seed of opportunity was implanted for me. Yet, for 14 years, the imbalances of my cognitive dissonance infiltrated my self-centered perception of the world. I consciously established a sequential system for my purpose in life: perfect grades, a high-paying job, and a secure family home. Individualism ran through my veins. I confined myself to the comforts of “controlling” the unknown. Suddenly, in the middle of a hectic second semester of freshman year, my pastor visited me. He inquired about my availability to teach the youth at the brand new El-Shalom Ethiopian Evangelical Church. As I felt the minuscule hairs on my hands and legs shoot up, the clock froze. Sitting still, excuses knocked around my head: “I am too busy with school work. I don’t have any leadership experience. That’s not for me.” Slowly, the germinating seeds of change were silently sprouting. I sharply turned my head and stared at my mother's fatigued, dark brown eyes. My cross-armed dad looked at the glaring distant sunset. I could almost sense their response as two distinctly sounded whispers that tickled my ears. “You're in the United States,” in her lightly accented voice. My father quickly added, “We gave you an opportunistic pathway in life. Now, it’s your turn to pass it on.” I remembered the visa. I reluctantly surrendered my doubt and submitted to the potentially rewarding risk. “Thank you, pastor. I will do it,” nervously flew out of my lips. However, the most overwhelming moment in my life transformed into a blessing in disguise. Beginning with a tight-knit group of five students, the youth ministry grew to 25 members in 2.5 years. I oversaw five complete sets of in-person and virtual bible studies, taught applicable sermons on Sunday afternoons, and controlled all of the children’s ministry during large conferences. At the end of each service, I vacuumed and reorganized the chairs in the rooms. During each Christmas season and the church’s anniversary, I preached in front of the entire congregation. I willingly bestowed spiritual guidance and thorough communication to check on my fellow brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. In concluding my 2018 Christmas sermon, I invited anyone who had committed their life to Jesus on the stage. It awkwardly took some time, but eight youth members eventually joined me! We went through six months of discipleship training; I excitingly baptized them in the depths of the Aurora Reservoir. The tree’s stem has risen from its hidden development. Church service has been the most eye-opening experience in my life; it has opened the door to new facets of my community. When I was offered the chance to join Mu Alpha Theta, I jumped straight at the chance. I tutored at my high school’s “Math Intervention” and “Cougar Resource Center” programs. I struggled and triumphed with students in subjects from algebra to calculus as my mindset glued to the academic success of my peers. Also, I established Key Club, an international organization based on public service and leadership, for the first time in my school’s history. As the Secretary Officer, I devised influential community projects at a hospital, farm, church, and school. There was no room for hesitancies this time. The mature mustard tree has sprung to life. My zealous desires no longer revolve around my self-interest; therefore, I will continue to reflect on the role of the little red, white, and blue visa in my life. My sequential system of purpose has diverged to a fruitful structure: taking community-oriented risks, serving whole-heartedly in compassionate humility, and letting the future take care of itself.