Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. Whether it was doodling characters on the empty spaces of my notebook or writing short stories in the notes app of my phone, creativity had always been something I enjoyed, but I had no strong vent for it, nothing that pushed me to improve. Video game design became just that. It was a way for me to focus my creativity, a place where my skills flourished, but it also challenged my flaws. Before I took that course, I struggled to focus on classes I didn't really care about, I did the bare minimum on assignments so it would be done for the grade and nothing more. I was unmotivated, disorganized, and careless. I'd pushed deadlines so far back that procrastination became more of a lifestyle than a nasty habit. Worst of all, I didn't know how to work with others. Criticism, compromise, and creative conflict were all foreign concepts to me. Consequently, group projects felt more like a prison sentence than a simple classroom activity. Video game design brought all these flaws to the forefront. I could no longer shy away from my weaknesses, instead, I learned to face them head on. I created schedules and practiced the programs, I came in after school to work on projects and even spent more time on getting work for other classes done so I could focus on video game design. One project I had was a group project where four other students and I had to work together to create our own video game. I was forced to get out of my shell. Whether it was to bounce off ideas, talk through game play, or discuss our schedules, communication was now a daily occurrence. I learned how to take criticism and use it to improve myself, or to work through creative conflict. I had to compromise on decisions and learn to let go of my need for creative control, to trust my team. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

Shoes squeaked with strategic pace across the gym floor, paintbrushes bashed against blank canvases and blissful hums of a harmonious choir filled the morning air. Yet I stayed silent, unmoved by the sounds of passion all around me. For a long time I drifted aimlessly through school without a sound of my own. I went to class after class with my eyes glued to the floor and my head in the clouds, the ticking of the clock seemed to be the only thing I paid attention to. I had no direction but inside I longed for something that would challenge me, something I could latch onto and care about, and that something was videogame design. By senior year of high school I was certified in adobe illustrator, I learned a multitude of different programs and had built many different games. I improved not only in technical skill but also as a person. I had changed. Freshman year I was a shy quiet girl with no direction in mind, no goals or passions and who rarely put in any real effort into her classes, but through my video game design course I became a more confident person. I not only learned to work well with others but to also to work well with myself, to pace and motivate myself to accomplish my goals. Video game design helped me become someone I could be proud of. It helped me see the kind of person I aspire to be and opened the door to a career path I had never previously considered before.

I would create a Love Island challenge called The Art of Attraction, and it would be unlike anything the villa has seen before. Instead of the usual physical competitions or flirty dares, this challenge would test how well the couples actually know each other by having them collaborate on a creative project together under pressure. Here is how it would work. Each couple would be given a large blank canvas, a set of paints, brushes, and exactly thirty minutes. Their task is to create a mural together that tells the story of their journey in the villa so far. The catch is that for the first fifteen minutes, they cannot speak to each other at all. They have to communicate entirely through the art itself, reading each other's choices of color, imagery, and placement to build something cohesive without saying a word. During the silent phase, you would see so much about each couple's dynamic. Are they stepping on each other's work or building off of it? Is one person dominating the canvas while the other hangs back? Do they naturally gravitate toward the same themes, or is one painting a sunset while the other is drawing stick figures playing football? That silent collaboration would reveal compatibility in a way that no truth-or-dare challenge ever could. After fifteen minutes, the couples get their voices back for the final fifteen minutes to finish the mural. Now they can strategize, negotiate, and refine. This is where you see communication styles in action. Some couples would click immediately and elevate the piece. Others might start arguing about whose vision should take priority, and that tension would be pure television gold. Once time is up, all the murals would be displayed in the garden, and here is the twist: the public gets to vote on their favorite mural through the app. The winning couple earns immunity from the next dumping, but the couple whose mural gets the fewest votes faces a consequence. They have to sleep in separate beds for the next two nights, which in Love Island terms is basically a relationship stress test. What I love about this challenge idea is that it goes deeper than surface-level attraction. You can fake chemistry in a kissing challenge, but you cannot fake creative synergy. The mural would become a visual record of each couple's connection, and the islanders would walk past them every day as a reminder. Some couples would probably point to their mural weeks later and say that is when they knew it was real. As someone heading to college to study Art and Entertainment Technology at UT Austin, I think about the intersection of creativity and human connection constantly. Love Island at its best is about watching people figure out if they are truly compatible, and The Art of Attraction would strip away the performance and get to something real. Plus, the murals would make incredible content for social media, which is honestly half the game.