I never thought paper could bring me so close to people I've never met. From Idaho to California and Singapore to Germany, the letters I write my pen pals have traveled far but have taught me lessons I hold close to my heart. Sophomore year, I was introduced to the art of snail-mail. I was already a frequent bullet journaler, and I thought letters were just another opportunity to use my collection of pens, stickers, and washi tapes. Though I cherish carefully arranging stickers and perfecting brush strokes on each letter with a matcha latte by my side, I quickly found that it is not the most fulfilling part of pen palling. With each letter I received, I began to understand the privilege of being allowed into someone's life. The personal stories and thoughts my penpals have shared helped me mature as I learned to understand the world from a broader lens. When my pen pal from Singapore wrote about her experience with Covid-19, it pushed me to research the realities of a pandemic for a country dependent on the global market and also gave me a look into the life of a college student in another country. My German pen pal taught me to appreciate the beauty and complexity of nature when she wrote about a hike in Berlin. Even from as close as Durham, my pen pal taught me to be an advocate for others when she wrote about a protest she participated in as she worked to advocate for her community. As I continue to discover the world, I will hold the stories I've been gifted close to my heart. I hope they will continue to serve as reminders to be curious, open-minded, and compassionate as I engage with my community and those around me.

Pen palling is the pocket of peace I can count on in the most frantic days or one filled spent on Netflix and my bed. Sophomore year, I was introduced to the art of snail-mail. I was already a frequent bullet writer, and I thought letters were just another opportunity to use my collection of pens, stickers, and washi tapes. Though I cherish carefully arranging stickers and perfecting brush strokes on each letter, I quickly found it's not the most fulfilling part of pen palling. With each letter I received, I began to understand the privilege of being allowed into someone's life. The personal stories and thoughts my pen pals have shared helped me mature as I learned to understand the world from a lens broader than my own. When my pen pal from Singapore wrote about her experience with Covid-19, it pushed me to research the realities of a pandemic for a country dependent on the global market. My German pen pal taught me to appreciate the beauty and complexity of nature when she wrote about a hike in Berlin. Even from as close as Durham, my pen pal taught me to be an advocate for others when she wrote about a protest she participated in. As I explore the world, I’ll hold the stories I've been gifted close to my heart as sources of joy. I hope they will continue to serve as reminders to be curious, open-minded, and compassionate.

In the years I've been a part of the Apex High School Marching Band, there has never been a group more enthusiastic and dedicated than the flute section. So when my band director told me I was selected to be flute section leader, I was looking forward to planning ice cream socials and sleepovers. Little did I know, there would be a lot more to the job. Though I was prepared to teach two years of rookie marchers, I wasn't prepared for the lack of enthusiasm and dedication. First day of camp, I overheard a freshman say her parents were "torturing her" with band. Moments later, I saw a boy storm off when someone corrected his marching. By a twist of fate, I found both kids standing in front of me when we separated into instruments. As I worked with each flutist through the season, I made it a mission to look out for them inside and outside band. Whether by helping them through music or listening to their concerns, I made sure I was always a source of guidance. Among other things, this helped create a dedication to marching band that sparked enthusiasm. Months since then, I have realized that persistence was the key to my success this past season. Persistence in practice. Persistence in building relationships. Persistence in working towards a goal. Although the flute section wasn't what I expected, it has given me more than I could have ever hoped. In addition to ice cream socials and fun sleepovers, it has taught me true leadership and the value of persistence and compassion.

Looking back at middle school, I remember an experience in eighth grade when I asked one of my friends why she had not been at school the day before. She responded by saying her parents wanted her to have a "mental health day" as she had been feeling overwhelmed by the workload we had. To me, the daughter of Korean immigrants, the concept of a "mental health day" was unimaginable. I remember asking her questions like, "Does it count as an excused absence?" and "Were you allowed to just hang out at home all day?" With parents that would only let me leave school if I was actively throwing up, I could not imagine skipping a day of school for something that seemed so minuscule. In retrospect, I feel hurt and empathy for that younger Katie as she had no understanding of something that would affect her life so much. For the greater part of my life, mental health has been a foreign concept. Although I cannot put a finger on the exact reason why this is so, I can put together a myriad of possibilities. Whether it be an upbringing from parents that grew up in a country where mental health is stigmatized to the max or the lack of mental health education in environments such as school, I never had a proper understanding of mental health. Although my mental health has been something that has taken a long time to accept and is something I am still learning to embrace, it has been something that has influenced various parts of my life. As I have gone through my own experiences with depression and BDD, I have had to learn how to gain a personal understanding of those diseases as I manage how it impacts my interactions and relationships. And similarly, my interactions with others who struggle with mental health have pushed me to be more open-minded and educate myself. Overall, my struggles and interactions with mental health have pushed me to become more empathetic while navigating something that is so unique and personal to each and every person. As I continue through school and to professional settings, mental health education and advocacy will always be a core value. I believe that with proper knowledge and education, mental health can be something that is a part of our normal lives and isn't seen as something to be afraid of. This knowledge could also help create environments for both those struggling with mental health and otherwise to thrive and work together in building community.

In the years I've been a part of the Apex High School Marching Band, there has never been a group more enthusiastic and dedicated than the flute section. So when my band director told me I was selected to be flute section leader, I was looking forward to planning ice cream socials and sleepovers. Little did I know, there would be a lot more to the job. Though I was prepared to teach two years of rookie marchers, I wasn't prepared for the lack of enthusiasm and dedication. On the first day of rookie camp, I overheard a freshman say her parents were "torturing her" by signing her up for marching band. Moments later, I saw a boy storm off in anger when someone had corrected his marching. By a twist of fate, I found both kids standing in front of me when we separated into instrument groups. So as I worked with each flutist through the season, I made it a mission to look out for them inside and outside band. Whether through helping them through music or listening to their concerns, I made sure that I was always a source of guidance. Among other things, this helped me create a dedication to marching band that sparked enthusiasm. Although the flute section wasn't what I expected, it has given me more than I could have ever hoped. In addition to ice cream socials and fun sleepovers, it has taught me true leadership and empathy.

When I stepped into my AP Chemistry class this past semester, I was surprised to find a class of only three girls among a class of fifteen. And among the three girls, I found myself to be the only person of color. With this disproportionate class came outrageous experiences. When I would raise my hand to answer a question or participate in a discussion, I found myself anticipating scrutiny and stares from certain male classmates. When I was confused during a lab, I braced myself for the silent judgment as I asked a question. Even among the other female students, I felt a sense of judgment and unhealthy competition as we worked to "prove" ourselves in the often toxic environment. I almost feel naive for being surprised in my experience as women—especially women of color—can often relate to this feeling of "otherness" in STEM and higher education. For as long as I can remember, I've been aware of the looks and silent judgment that women face as we climb up the ladder in education or as a professional. I can even recall moments when my parents would warn me that I can't and shouldn't shy away from being bold and pursuing my interests because there will always be a man looking to take my spot. This experience in AP Chemistry has motivated me to embrace my identity as a woman of color in STEM. It has given me perspective on the work that is still needed in creating a welcoming environment in STEM and has motivated me in the work I do in Women in Science. Working with young girls that find STEM fascinating, I am always reminded of the responsibility I have of making this field more diverse and embracing. Though a tremendous part of pursuing my education is rooted in a love for curiosity, exploration, and discovering the world around me, I also feel that I have a purpose beyond myself as I continue from high school to higher education. As I pursue my path in STEM—especially in the academic and professional settings— I hope to bring change that will end the often-relatable experience I had in my chemistry class. Through pursuing my education, I hope I can be in a position where I not only benefit myself but the thousands and thousands of women who have not yet had the opportunity to strive towards their goals and true passions.

I never thought pieces of paper could bring me so close to people I have never met. From Idaho to California and Singapore to Germany, the letters I write my pen pals have traveled far and wide but have taught me lessons that I hold close to my heart. Sophomore year, I was introduced to the art of snail-mail. I was already a frequent bullet journal artist, and I thought letters were just another opportunity to use my collection of pens, stickers, and washi tapes. Though I cherish carefully arranging stickers and perfecting brush strokes on each letter with a matcha latte by my side, I quickly found that it is not the most fulfilling part of pen palling. With each letter I received, I began to understand the privilege of being allowed into someone's life. The personal stories and thoughts my penpals have shared helped me mature as I learned to understand the world from a lens broader than my own. When my pen pal from Singapore wrote about her experience with Covid-19, it pushed me to research the realities of a pandemic for a country dependent on the global market and also gave me a look into the life of a college student in another country. My German pen pal taught me to appreciate the beauty and complexity of nature when she wrote about a hike in Berlin. Even from as close as Durham, my pen pal taught me to be an advocate for others when she wrote about a protest she participated in as she worked to advocate for her community. As I continue to discover the world, I will hold the stories I've been gifted close to my heart. I hope they will continue to serve as reminders to be curious, open-minded, and compassionate as I engage with my community and those around me.

I can still taste the sweat accumulated while perfecting the seemingly simple back-kick in preparation for a tournament. Weeks later, I swept the competition, leaving with a gold medal and a crying opponent. Although this description of taekwondo would confirm stereotypes—violent, dangerous, and even lethal—, taekwondo shaped me—someone described as bashful or soft-spoken. In the dojang, the Five Tenets of Taekwondo—courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control, and indomitable spirit—were always emphasized. Though martial arts can be violent, I knew that the core of taekwondo is its tenents. Courtesy was introduced with bowing. Bowing is done towards masters, seniors, and even opponents. This lesson is a reminder to respect my peers and to be thankful for my opportunities. Perseverance and indomitable spirit were introduced through board-breaking. At my first belt test, I was reminded to persist until I broke the board. Years later, this lesson stayed as I worked to correct marching technique through the scorching heat of a band rehearsal. Integrity and self-control were introduced with movements and kicks. With the complexity of taekwondo, you must trust and have control over your mind and body. I learned to trust myself and in my morals. As a leader, I always know my principles will come first. Outside of the dojang, taekwondo will always guide me. As a student, I will share integrity as I uphold my community and persevere in my commitments. I will practice courtesy and self-control for those around me. And through all, I will hold on to an indomitable spirit.

Last year, I led a community outreach program for my HOSA (Health Occupations Students of America) chapter. It started as a task force of 7 people, and we got complete control over what we wanted to do. We had brainstormed several ideas, but we eventually decided on a menstrual product drive. When I started researching to pitch the project, I was aware of menstrual inequity, but to be frank, I didn't understand the extent of the issue. With a few simple searches I learned that in 30 states, including my home state of North Carolina, menstrual products are taxed as luxury items. On the other hand, candy like Pixy Stixs are taxed as "necessities". This outrageous view and mindset contributes to something called period poverty which is essentially the lack of access to menstrual products and education. Though it can be seen all around the United States, it primarily affects POC and low-income areas. And throughout the pandemic, period poverty was only magnified. Following the research, I worked with school administrators to launch the drive. I also worked with a representative from the nonprofit I Support the Girls to ensure that the products we collected were going where they were most needed. Once advertisement posts were uploaded and posters were on display, the collection was open for two weeks. The drive amassed over 1,200 menstrual products for Birth Beginnings (BB)—a local nonprofit that I Support the Girls connected us to. BB used the products to create care kits for teenagers in rural North Carolina that they brought to a community event on reproductive health. With the summation of research and passion I had for this project, I have come to recognize what I would change in the world: period poverty. More specifically, I would end period poverty. Period poverty affects over 500 million people who menstruate around the world, and there are many ways that the average person could help combat this problem. We could start locally by calling out to politicians and fighting for bills like the Menstrual Equity for All Act. We could work to support brands that donate products with purchases or even donate our own products. Furthermore, we could work on ourselves to change mindsets on menstruation. Whether it be destigmatizing periods or working to bring more awareness to the issue, we can all play a part in solving this issue. Personally, I hope I can do more work to pass legislation to end the period tax and take steps towards providing free menstrual products in all public bathrooms. Though it is gratifying to know my drive helped a community, I hope it is just the first ring to the ripple of change.