I sobbed and sobbed for hours on end, my eyes were red cheeks blanched and stomach aching. All of this a result of a joke, the infamous, timeless dad joke for millenia probably. “Guess what?”, “what?” “CHICKEN BUTT”. And that was it for me. I was a goner. I laughed so hard my abdomen was sore the next day. Rain was pouring down outside, beating the house so badly I was scared we'd get leaks in the ceiling. At this time of my life I had limited access to electronics. I found joy in reading books and getting lost in the way the words wove images in my brain and made stories light up my eyes. I sat at the table waiting for my grandma to finish cooking. I could hear her spoon scraping against the battered metal pot that had only been used to create food for our family traditions. The aroma of an unknown meal spread throughout the house. A plate with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of homemade tomato soup was placed in front of me. With the rain and warm meal my slumber that night was unlike any other I've had and I still haven't had anything better. The radio I'd borrowed from my mom three years prior was turned up so loud that my walls shook, but even then, it wasn't loud enough. I wanted the sound to rattle my bones and move my feet on its own. My music was the thing that I listened to every morning and what lulled me to sleep every night. It was comfortable through the combinations of lyrical notes and inspiring instruments. Seeing my friend's last theater performance and I got to hug her the whole time afterwards and even held her hand and just got to experience being a part of her life. Being able to celebrate with my friends and knowing that they celebrate and love me even though they aren't obligated to do so. Old pictures frames spanning across generations of family's, grandparents, kids, adults, pets. Walls full of school accolades. A soft hum to the out of date light bulbs that created a soft cast of lighting throughout the house. Vintage furniture where the arms were peeling. The house seemed old, like it was created to last a long time, and the old couple who'd lived in it previously weren't ready to let go of it. It felt wrong moving into it, I still felt like I could envision the outlines of those frames and the smell of the house still hits me with a wave of melancholy when J hasn't been in it a long time. These memories are the ones I recall them when someone asks me why I want to be an architect. I want people to be able to be in buildings that inspire that feeling of comfort, those feelings of grandma's cooking and smiles with their loved ones. So much of our society is geared toward efficiency and can lack genuine aspects. It can fail to make room for people to be people and have the space to make those kinds of memories and build that sense of community. I believe that architecture is so interwoven with society that it connects with social, physical, and political aspects of our world. For me Architecture is more than designing buildings; It’s about being able to create spaces that can nurture human connection and generate a sense of belonging. This is why architecture is one of the most fascinating and meaningful subjects in the world to me.

Rain was pouring down outside, beating the house so badly I was scared we'd get leaks in the ceiling. At that time in my life with limited access to electronics, I found joy in reading books and getting lost in the way the words wove images in my brain. I sat at the table waiting for my grandma to finish cooking. I could hear her spoon scraping against the battered metal pot that rarely made an appearance. The aroma of an unknown smell spread throughout the house. A plate with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of homemade tomato soup was placed in front of me. With the rain and warm meal, my slumber that night was unlike any other I've had, and I still haven't had anything better. This encapsulates the very meaning of comfort and warmth that a well-designed space can offer. Unfortunately most spaces fail to make me and other people feel this sense of comfort. Take my family for instance, everyone's family has a set of values and beliefs they instill as part of the "beginner package" for general life lessons when you’re young. Social etiquette like don’t call people stupid, keep your hands to yourself, and sharing is caring. Another big one in my family was that being gay, despite it being the 2000s and not the 1900s, was frowned upon. My mom told me in sixth grade that if my teacher even started to talk about gay people, I should run out of the classroom and call her immediately. My grandparents explained about 50 ways why being gay was wrong. When my cousin revealed that another cousin of ours was gay, she presented it as something "disgusting." I responded that she was being dramatic and mean, which was met with disapproval from my aunt. Once I began to really question this set of beliefs and I came out to my parents, which didn’t go well it created what I initially took as a negative ripple effect in my life. Spaces that once felt secure like home, and church, now felt distant and unfamiliar, I felt betrayed by the people that were supposed to be my biggest confidants. While this was difficult to experience, it showed me how fast things can change. And that while buildings can be a sanctuary like my grandma's house they can just as easily be the opposite. Which is why I want to become an architect, buildings have the ability to be perceived/ designed with the capability of creating warm welcoming emotions, like my grandma's house. However it also has the ability to manifest in a more hostile way that can oftentimes make people feel unwelcome and ignored. There is a name for this phenomenon, it’s called Hostile Architecture, which is a design that is made to prevent/discourage human behavior. This style of design has disproportionately affected the homeless, the disabled, and elderly, and sometimes even animals. After witnessing these impacts has inspired me to pursue a career in Architecture, in which I will use my skills to combat these hostile designs and instead make accessible spaces that encourage community and connection.

Rain was pouring down outside, beating the house so badly I was scared we'd get leaks in the ceiling. At that time of my life with limited access to electronics, I found joy in reading books and getting lost in the way the words wove images in my brain. I sat at the table waiting for my grandma to finish cooking. I could hear her spoon scraping against the battered metal pot that rarely made an appearance. The aroma of an unknown smell spread throughout the house. A plate with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of homemade tomato soup was placed in front of me. With the rain and warm meal, my slumber that night was unlike any other I've had, and I still haven't had anything better. This encapsulates the very meaning of comfort and warmth that a well-designed space can offer. Unfortunately most spaces fail to make me and other people feel this sense of comfort. Take my family, for instance. Everyone's family has a set of values and beliefs they instill as part of the "beginner package" for general life lessons when you’re young, social etiquette like don’t call people stupid, keep your hands to yourself, and sharing is caring. Another big one in my family was that being gay, despite it being the 2000s and not the 1900s, was frowned upon. My mom told me in sixth grade that if my teacher even started to talk about gay people, I should run out of the classroom and call her immediately. My grandparents explained about 50 ways why being gay was wrong. When my cousin revealed that another cousin of ours was gay, she presented it as something "disgusting." I responded that she was being dramatic and mean, which was met with disapproval from my aunt. Once I began to really question this set of beliefs and I came out to my parents, which didn’t go well, it created what I initially took as a negative ripple effect in my life. Spaces that once felt secure like home and church, now felt distant and unfamiliar. I felt betrayed by the people that were supposed to be my biggest confidants. While this was difficult to experience, it showed me how fast things can change and that while buildings can be a sanctuary, like my grandma's house, they can just as easily be the opposite. While I’m not able to alter the circumstances of my origins, I believe my purpose lies in architecture, where I strive to create spaces that are inviting and comforting. Unfortunately, architecture has the ability to manifest in a more hostile way that can oftentimes make people feel unwelcome and ignored. There is a name for this phenomenon, it’s called Hostile Architecture, which is a design that is made to prevent/discourage human behavior. This style of design has disproportionately affected the homeless, the disabled, and elderly, and sometimes even animals. These experiences have driven me to focus on architecture as a tool for social good, with the end goal of eradicating these inhumane design practices. So much of our society prioritizes efficiency over genuine human experience. I believe architecture should create spaces for making memories and fostering community connecting the social, physical, and political aspects of our world. For me, architecture is more than designing buildings. It’s about being able to create spaces that can nurture human connection and generate a sense of belonging, like my grandma's house did for me. No one should have to feel alienated in spaces that are supposed to be made for them.

Rain was pouring down outside, beating the house so badly I was scared we'd get leaks in the ceiling. At that time of my life with limited access to electronics, I found joy in reading books and getting lost in the way the words wove images in my brain. I sat at the table waiting for my grandma to finish cooking. I could hear her spoon scraping against the battered metal pot that rarely made an appearance. The aroma of an unknown smell spread throughout the house. A plate with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of homemade tomato soup was placed in front of me. With the rain and warm meal, my slumber that night was unlike any other I've had, and I still haven't had anything better. This encapsulates the very meaning of comfort and warmth that a well-designed space can offer. Unfortunately most spaces fail to make me and other people feel this sense of comfort. Take my family, for instance. Everyone's family has a set of values and beliefs they instill as part of the "beginner package" for general life lessons when you’re young, social etiquette like don’t call people stupid, keep your hands to yourself, and sharing is caring. Another big one in my family was that being gay, despite it being the 2000s and not the 1900s, was frowned upon. My mom told me in sixth grade that if my teacher even started to talk about gay people, I should run out of the classroom and call her immediately. My grandparents explained about 50 ways why being gay was wrong. When my cousin revealed that another cousin of ours was gay, she presented it as something "disgusting." I responded that she was being dramatic and mean, which was met with disapproval from my aunt. Once I began to really question this set of beliefs and I came out to my parents, which didn’t go well, it created what I initially took as a negative ripple effect in my life. Spaces that once felt secure like home and church, now felt distant and unfamiliar. I felt betrayed by the people that were supposed to be my biggest confidants. While this was difficult to experience, it showed me how fast things can change and that while buildings can be a sanctuary, like my grandma's house, they can just as easily be the opposite. While I’m not able to alter the circumstances of my origins, I believe my purpose lies in architecture, where I strive to create spaces that are inviting and comforting. Unfortunately, architecture has the ability to manifest in a more hostile way that can oftentimes make people feel unwelcome and ignored. There is a name for this phenomenon, it’s called Hostile Architecture, which is a design that is made to prevent/discourage human behavior. This style of design has disproportionately affected the homeless, the disabled, and elderly, and sometimes even animals. These experiences have driven me to focus on architecture as a tool for social good, with the end goal of eradicating these inhumane design practices. So much of our society prioritizes efficiency over genuine human experience. I believe architecture should create spaces for making memories and fostering community connecting the social, physical, and political aspects of our world. For me, architecture is more than designing buildings. It’s about being able to create spaces that can nurture human connection and generate a sense of belonging, like my grandma's house did for me. No one should have to feel alienated in spaces that are supposed to be made for them.

Rain was pouring down outside, beating the house so badly I was scared we'd get leaks in the ceiling. At that time in my life with limited access to electronics, I found joy in reading books and getting lost in the way the words wove images in my brain. I sat at the table waiting for my grandma to finish cooking. I could hear her spoon scraping against the battered metal pot that rarely made an appearance. The aroma of an unknown smell spread throughout the house. A plate with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of homemade tomato soup was placed in front of me. With the rain and warm meal, my slumber that night was unlike any other I've had, and I still haven't had anything better. This encapsulates the very meaning of comfort and warmth that a well-designed space can offer. Unfortunately most spaces fail to make me and other people feel this sense of comfort. Take my family for instance, everyone's family has a set of values and beliefs they instill as part of the "beginner package" for general life lessons when you’re young. Social etiquette like don’t call people stupid, keep your hands to yourself, and sharing is caring. Another big one in my family was that being gay, despite it being the 2000s and not the 1900s, was frowned upon. My mom told me in 6th grade that if my teacher even started to talk about gay people, I should run out of the classroom and call her immediately. My grandparents explained about 50 ways why being gay was wrong. When my cousin revealed that another cousin of ours was gay, she presented it as something "disgusting." I responded that she was being dramatic and mean, which was met with disapproval from my aunt. Once I began to really question this set of beliefs and I came out to my parents, which didn’t go well it created what I initially took as a negative ripple effect in my life. Spaces that once felt secure like home, and church, now felt distant and unfamiliar, I felt betrayed by the people that were supposed to be my biggest confidants. While this was difficult to experience, it showed me how fast things can change. And that while buildings can be a sanctuary like my grandma's house they can just as easily be the opposite. Which is why I want to become an architect, buildings have the ability to be designed with the capability of creating warm welcoming emotions, like my grandma's house. However it also has the ability to manifest in a more hostile way that can oftentimes make people feel unwelcome. There is a name for this phenomenon; Hostile Architecture, which is a design that is made to prevent/discourage human behavior. This style of design has disproportionately affected the homeless, disabled, elderly, and sometimes even animals. After witnessing these impacts I have been inspired to pursue a career in Architecture, in which I will use my skills to combat these hostile designs and instead make accessible spaces that encourage community and connection. So much of our society prioritizes efficiency over genuine human experience. I believe architecture should create spaces for making memories and fostering community connecting the social, physical, and political aspects of our world. For me, architecture is more than designing buildings. It’s about being able to create spaces that can nurture human connection and generate a sense of belonging, like my grandma's house did for me. No one should have to feel alienated in spaces that are supposed to be made for them.

Hearing the phrase “well life isn’t fair” has always garnered such a visceral reaction from me, and when I was younger I could never understand why. It baffled me because nine times out of ten I was in a situation in which the person saying that could very much have had a hand in making life fair in that moment. As I’ve gotten older, I know that the reason it made me so upset was because it was true. In addition to this discovery I figured out what was frustrating me, wanting the testament by the actions or lack thereof of those that were sharing the sentiment. I grew to despise complacency and lack of effort. Eventually this turned into me thinking about my own stances on advocacy.When it came to black lives matter, poverty, unaffordable housing, war and famine, I was up in arms, but always felt too young to ever do anything. The thing I could do was read, so that’s what I did. I read, researched, and listened to people’s point of views before determining my own. After doing so I noticed that a few things stood out to me the most, the use of public spaces, censorship and education, and engineering. I was fortunate enough to be able to go outside a lot as a kid, I loved walking. I loved the idea of being able to just get by on my own two feet and be able to relax at my destination. Since then things have changed and it’s become increasingly more difficult for public spaces to be comfortable for the public. The use of public spaces like parks, schools, and even just commercial buildings for everyday tasks like coffee runs has become less accessible. This is because of Hostile architecture, which is architecture that discourages any unwanted public behavior. However more is at stake when cities use hostile architecture, it often negatively affects the elderly and people that are disabled. All in all it makes public spaces difficult for the public to use. Not only that but it’s also a hypocritical design choice that is harmful to the development of a good community. As a result it is therefore the foundation for a failing society. My goal as an architect is not only to be able to create public spaces that are comfortable and useful for everyone but to create them in a way that is sustainable and aesthetically pleasing. As far as who inspires me I'd say my professor for martial arts. She has become a staple in my life, but she's taught me what it means to have goals and achieve them. She is who I strive to be, going out of her way to make life more bearable day by day one small action at a time. I met her in the 7th grade and out of the many years of knowing her there's one piece of advice I take with me everyday. Which is to not get frustrated but get fascinated. Having this approach doesn't always make what I'm struggling with easier but it is a breath of fresh air and helps me adjust my approach. In the field of engineering and architecture it's very easy to get frustrated so having that mindset in place will play a crucial role in my success as a student and future employee.

When I was in first grade I had the pleasure of experiencing career day in full swing. My elementary school before then had never had one. I remember getting asked the age old question of “what do you want to be when you grow up?” My answer used to be any kind of sport I thought was cool on TV that I’d seen as of recently. But I never genuinely started to think about what I wanted to be until the third grade. During which I was able to participate in the invention convention, and to my surprise my project ended up being a hit. I enjoyed the whole process of the competition which is what made me interested in engineering in the first place. I knew I wanted to do engineering but I still was unsure as to what type. Fast forward six years later to my freshman year of highschool, I had a project where I needed to build a bridge as a substitute for the final. Now I know that bridges and such are more so for civil engineers but it I knew the two were related and I did some extra research and architecture seemed like an obvious option. The reason architecture is so enticing is because it allows me to combine my interest in the arts and STEM without sacrificing one for the other and because of my job as a martial arts instructor. Art was never really something I thought I’d enjoy all that much, but I was wrong about a lot of assumptions that I had when I was younger. I did do art but I never felt like it fully encapsulated everything that I wanted from it. Art comes in many different forms but I lack skill in areas like the performing arts so the next best option seems to be the visual arts, yet I remain unsatisfied. The same can be said for engineering, I admired the scientific and mathematical aspects that went into a design. The only downside seemed to be the lack of creativity that the final product possessed. I wanted my art to not just mean something but to have a physical emphasis to it. A way for me to see a permanent mark on the world and in people’s lives. By pursuing a career in architecture it allows me to hold onto these two principles simultaneously at the same time. As I’ve gotten older and have grown as a person in the little time I've been on this earth, one thing has seemed to be a revolving door for me. Servitude. I do a lot of activities on a weekly basis, volleyball, robotics, mentor programs, I have a job, speech competitions, and even hold the position of my class’s president. All of which have people that have helped shape who I am today. That being said, one extra curricular stands out above the rest, my job. At my job, I’m an assistant martial arts instructor which has managed to teach me a lot about myself, more specifically my delight in being able to give back to those who have had a positive impact on me. I believe that architecture embodies servitude since it taylors to millions of different people and can create comfortable and accessible public spaces for all. I want to become an architect because it allows me to capitalize on my interest and find a way to incorporate different facets of my passions. Which will enable me to create something that will have a meaningful impact in people’s lives.