I'm currently a senior in high school getting ready to head into college for computer science. Most of my time outside of class goes toward programming and game development, which started years ago when I was just a kid messing around with video game mods in my room. What began as tweaking games to make them feel more like mine slowly turned into a real love for building things from scratch. I taught myself through tutorials, trial and error, and a lot of broken code. That process taught me more than just technical skills. It taught me patience, problem solving, and how to keep going when something doesn't work the first time. Or the tenth time. Outside of that, I stay involved where I can. I like helping others learn things I had to figure out on my own, whether that's walking someone through a coding concept or just being a steady presence for people who are quieter or feel like they don't quite fit in. I know what it's like to feel like you're on the outside of things, and I think showing up for people in small ways matters just as much as the big stuff. After high school, I plan to study computer science in college and eventually work in software development or game design. I want to build systems and tools that make people's lives easier or give them spaces where they feel comfortable and capable. That idea comes straight from my own experience. Games gave me a place where things made sense when the real world didn't always, and I want to create that kind of feeling for other people. If I could start my own charity, the mission would be simple: give kids and teens a creative outlet through technology, especially the ones who are quiet, overlooked, or just haven't found their thing yet. I'd call it something straightforward, and it would focus on young people who don't have easy access to computers, coding programs, or mentorship in tech. A lot of kids out there are like I was. They have all this curiosity and energy inside but no clear way to channel it. They might not be the loudest in the room or the first to raise their hand, but that doesn't mean they don't have something to offer. Sometimes they just need someone to hand them the tools and say, "Here, try this." Volunteers would run beginner coding workshops, help kids learn game design, and mentor them through projects at their own pace. No pressure, no judgment, just a space to experiment and mess up and try again. Some volunteers would focus on one-on-one mentoring for kids who do better with that kind of support. Others might help set up computer labs in community centers or schools that don't have the funding for it. The goal wouldn't be to turn every kid into a programmer. It would be to show them that creating something, anything, can be the outlet they didn't know they needed. I know from experience that finding that one thing that clicks can change how you see yourself. For me it was modding, then coding, then realizing I could actually build something meaningful. I just want to make that moment possible for more people.

No one in my family has earned a college degree. That is not a statement of blame or disappointment. It is simply the reality I grew up in. My parents worked hard, provided for me, and gave me every opportunity they could. But a college education was not part of the blueprint they were handed, which means it was never part of the one they could pass down. By obtaining this degree, I will not just be changing my own path. I will be creating a new blueprint entirely. Growing up, I struggled to communicate in ways that came naturally to others. I have social pragmatic communication disorder, which means that even when I understood what I felt or what I wanted to say, delivering it in a way people expected was difficult. As a child, this made me seem distant. I did not always respond the way others hoped. I did not always know how to enter a conversation or read the unspoken rules of social interaction. For a long time, I thought that meant I was limited. What changed that belief was learning to create. When I discovered programming through video game modding, I found a space where my way of thinking was not a disadvantage. The focus and patience I had built over years of quiet observation became strengths. Problems were not awkward silences I had to navigate. They were puzzles I could sit with until they made sense. That process taught me something my family had never had the chance to learn through formal education: that struggle is not a sign to stop. It is part of the work. Earning this degree means carrying that lesson forward. It means that when my future children or younger family members face a challenge, whether academic, social, or personal, they will have someone in their corner who finished what they started. They will see that a person who once stood silently at Disney, overwhelmed and unable to express what he felt, found a way to build a life around that same intensity. They will know that a degree is not reserved for people who fit a certain mold. It is available to anyone willing to persist. More than that, this degree shifts what my family sees as possible. First-generation status is not just about the absence of a diploma. It is about the absence of familiarity with the process, the confidence that comes from knowing someone before you has done it, the quiet assurance that you belong in that space. I want to be that point of reference. I want the next person in my family who considers college to already know someone who made it through, someone who did not have a traditional starting point but found a way regardless. My communication challenges taught me to find alternative paths when the obvious ones did not work. My family's history taught me the value of hard work without the guarantee of opportunity. This degree is where those two lessons meet. It is not just a credential. It is proof that the cycle can shift, that the obstacles I inherited do not have to be the ones I pass down. I intend to hand the next generation something my family never had: a foundation to build on.

Attending a university means something different to me than it might to most people. It is not just about earning a degree or checking a box on the way to a career. For me, it represents the moment where everything I have quietly built on my own finally meets a structure designed to take it further. I grew up as someone who struggled to express what I felt. I was not distant or disinterested. I was overwhelmed, and I had no language for it. While other kids connected through conversation and group activities, I turned inward. I found comfort in video games, then in modding, and eventually in programming. Each step gave me a little more ability to translate what was happening inside me into something real and visible. But every step was self-taught, pieced together from tutorials and trial and error, late nights and broken code. I built my own foundation, and I am proud of that. But I also know that foundation has limits. University is where I stop building alone. It is the chance to learn from people who have already solved the problems I am still working through. It is the chance to be surrounded by others who care about the same things I do and who will challenge me in ways I cannot challenge myself. I have spent years proving to myself that I can learn anything if I commit to it. Now I want to be in an environment that pushes me to commit to things I would not have discovered on my own. For my family, this carries a different kind of weight. My parents have watched me grow up quiet, internal, and hard to read. They saw the boy at Disney who stood perfectly still while the parade went by, and they worried. They did not always understand my world of games and code, but they supported it because they saw it making me more confident, more focused, and more willing to take on challenges. University, for them, is proof that the patience they showed during those uncertain years was not wasted. It is the visible result of a long and unconventional path, and it means as much to them as it does to me. There is also something deeper. No one in my immediate family has had the kind of opportunity that a university education represents. Attending is not just personal achievement. It is a statement that the people who raised me and believed in me were right to do so. It honors the sacrifices they made and the trust they placed in a kid who did not always look like he was headed somewhere. For me, university is the next step in a pattern I have been following since I first opened a modding tool and realized I could shape something instead of just consuming it. It is the difference between learning in isolation and learning in community. It is the difference between potential and preparation. I have already proven to myself that I can sit with a problem until it makes sense. University is where I learn which problems are worth solving and how to solve them at a level that matters. I am still the same person who watches closely and processes quietly. That has not changed, and I do not think it needs to. What has changed is that I finally have direction, and attending a university is how I intend to follow it.