“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard your flight,” I say into the intercom. “We ask that you fasten your seatbelt and stow away all baggage as we prepare for takeoff.” I watched countless planes take off and land while volunteering at the airport, picturing myself in the cockpit. The pilots guiding their passengers on a journey in the sky appealed to my desire to lead others. As I directed travelers to their gates, I longed to guide people on a larger scale. Steering passengers around the airport reminded me of my youth spent instructing others. In elementary school, my peers turned to me for group work, knowing I would be a dependable partner. I admired my teachers just as I did pilots, but the cockpit seemed lonely compared to the classroom. While I yearned for direct guidance, my parents quickly shut down my childhood dream of teaching. Raised in Punjab, India, my parents equated success with financial prosperity. To them, a career in education was unremarkable. They expected me to abandon my teaching aspirations for a more lucrative future. I struggled to balance their definition of success with my own passions and eventually settled on flying, believing it could be a compromise. After years of believing success was tied to wealth, tutoring a calculus class taught me otherwise. I helped confused students and saw their eyes light up as they conquered challenging concepts. As more hands shot up, I again became the person my peers relied on for explanations. Flying, I realized, was simply a placeholder for my dream to teach mathematics. In working with students, I noticed many were overlooked. To help, I wrote notes tailored to their needs. Though I appreciated their gratitude, nothing compared to uplifting students who disliked math. Accommodating different learning styles made a widely disliked subject more approachable for them and fulfilling for me. My expertise in calculus highlighted the importance of mastering a field before teaching it. During the limits chapter, visual learners struggled to grasp why 1 divided by infinity approaches 0. So, I used a relatable analogy: sharing cookies. I explained that if one cookie were split among everyone on Earth, each person would barely get a crumb. As the concept clicked, I saw my students regain motivation and share their achievements beyond the classroom. I realized my calling wasn’t to guide from a cockpit, but from a classroom and a degree in mathematics would provide me the skills to get there. Peer tutoring gave me an appreciation for every aspect of teaching, even the tedious ones. My AP Physics lunch period turned into an impromptu tutoring session where I used the chalkboard to play teacher, just as I had as a child. Engaging with students made stapling note packets and sacrificing lunches worthwhile. Although my parents wanted financial security for me, I knew that education was my true calling. Teaching requires passion, patience, and resilience, qualities I had developed throughout my experiences. The worsening teacher shortage secured my passion to pursue this career. Teachers lead and prepare the next generation, and I aspire to be part of that impact. Working a part-time job helped me reassure my parents that they should not worry about my financial situation. An education in mathematics would allow me to spread the joy of STEM and encourage future students to pursue the field. While I will not pilot a plane, but I will pilot young minds into their future, guiding them toward their own success, just as I once longed for guidance myself.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard your flight,” I say into the intercom. “We ask that you fasten your seatbelt and stow away all baggage as we prepare for takeoff.” I watched countless planes take off and land while volunteering at the airport, picturing myself in the cockpit. The pilots guiding their passengers on a journey in the sky appealed to my desire to lead others. As I directed travelers to their gates, I longed to guide people on a larger scale. Steering passengers around the airport reminded me of my youth spent instructing others. In elementary school, my peers turned to me for group work, knowing I would be a dependable partner. I admired my teachers just as I did pilots, but the cockpit seemed lonely compared to the classroom. While I yearned for direct guidance, my parents quickly shut down my childhood dream of teaching. Raised in Punjab, India, my parents equated success with financial prosperity. To them, a career in education was unremarkable. They expected me to abandon my teaching aspirations for a more lucrative future. I struggled to balance their definition of success with my own passions and eventually settled on flying, believing it could be a compromise. After years of believing success was tied to wealth, tutoring a calculus class taught me otherwise. I helped confused students and saw their eyes light up as they conquered challenging concepts. As more hands shot up, I again became the person my peers relied on for explanations. Flying, I realized, was simply a placeholder for my dream to teach. In working with students, I noticed many were overlooked. To help, I wrote notes tailored to their needs. Though I appreciated their gratitude, nothing compared to uplifting students who disliked math. Accommodating different learning styles made a widely disliked subject more approachable for them and fulfilling for me. Visual learners, for example, struggled to grasp why 1 divided by infinity equals 0. So, I used a relatable analogy: sharing cookies. I explained that if one cookie were split among everyone on Earth, each person would barely get a crumb. As the concept clicked, I saw my students regain motivation and share their achievements beyond the classroom. I realized my calling wasn’t to guide from a cockpit, but from a classroom. Peer tutoring gave me an appreciation for every aspect of teaching, even the tedious ones. My AP Physics lunch period turned into an impromptu tutoring session where I used the chalkboard to play teacher, just as I had as a child. Engaging with students made stapling note packets and sacrificing lunches worthwhile. Although my parents wanted financial security for me, I knew that education was my true calling. Teaching requires passion, patience, and resilience, qualities I had developed throughout my experiences. The worsening teacher shortage reinforced my passion to pursue this career. Teachers shape the next generation, and I aspire to be part of that impact. Working a part-time job helped me reassure my parents that they should not worry about my financial situation. This scholarship would allow me to further ease my parents concerns and help me attain my dream career. In doing so, I hope to use the powerful tool of education to amplify my students. While I will not pilot a plane, but I will pilot young minds into the future, guiding them toward their own success, just as I once longed for guidance myself.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard your flight,” I say into the intercom. “We ask that you fasten your seatbelt and stow away all baggage as we prepare for takeoff.” I watched countless planes take off and land while volunteering at the airport, picturing myself in the cockpit. The pilots guiding their passengers on a journey in the sky appealed to my desire to lead others. As I directed travelers to their gates, I longed to guide people on a larger scale. Steering passengers around the airport reminded me of my youth spent instructing others. In elementary school, my peers turned to me for group work, knowing I would be a dependable partner. I admired my teachers just as I did pilots, but the cockpit seemed lonely compared to the classroom. While I yearned for direct guidance, my parents quickly shut down my childhood dream of teaching. Raised in Punjab, India, my parents equated success with financial prosperity. To them, a career in education was unremarkable. They expected me to abandon my teaching aspirations for a more lucrative future. I struggled to balance their definition of success with my own passions and eventually settled on flying, believing it could be a compromise. After years of believing success was tied to wealth, tutoring a calculus class taught me otherwise. I helped confused students and saw their eyes light up as they conquered challenging concepts. As more hands shot up, I again became the person my peers relied on for explanations. Flying, I realized, was simply a placeholder for my dream to teach. In working with students, I noticed many were overlooked. To help, I wrote notes tailored to their needs. Though I appreciated their gratitude, nothing compared to uplifting students who disliked math. Accommodating different learning styles made a widely disliked subject more approachable for them and fulfilling for me. Visual learners, for example, struggled to grasp why 1 divided by infinity equals 0. So, I used a relatable analogy: sharing cookies. I explained that if one cookie were split among everyone on Earth, each person would barely get a crumb. As the concept clicked, I saw my students regain motivation and share their achievements beyond the classroom. I realized my calling wasn’t to guide from a cockpit, but from a classroom. Peer tutoring gave me an appreciation for every aspect of teaching, even the tedious ones. My AP Physics lunch period turned into an impromptu tutoring session where I used the chalkboard to play teacher, just as I had as a child. Engaging with students made stapling note packets and sacrificing lunches worthwhile. Although my parents wanted financial security for me, I knew that education was my true calling. Teaching requires passion, patience, and resilience, qualities I had developed throughout my experiences. The worsening teacher shortage secured my passion to pursue this career. Teachers lead and prepare the next generation, and I aspire to be part of that impact. Working a part-time job helped me reassure my parents that they should not worry about my financial situation. I may not have followed the path they envisioned, but I hope my journey inspires my students to chase their dreams while staying true to their families. While I will not pilot a plane, but I will pilot young minds into the future, guiding them toward their own success, just as I once longed for guidance myself.