“One-Two-Nine-Two-Eight.” Those 5 numbers had just advanced me to FIRST Worlds Championship. High school robotics was my world. However before, visual arts and graphic design quenched my desire to design but it never sated my competitiveness. So, after entering competitive robotics, adrenaline electrocuted my veins, ambition wracked my head to discover narrow mechanical advantages, anxiety prayed for luck watching robots zip about the field, elation screamed squeezing my lungs after each championship advancement. Yet, in the summer of 2019, I discovered my queer identity, and I learned how marginalized and difficult life is for the queer community. Now, I want to uplift the LGBTQ+ community and other marginalized communities in solidarity through engineering. As a junior in high school, my advisor accidentally enrolled me in a newly created competitive robotics elective. Before FTC Team 12928, I thought about becoming an architect or graphic designer since 6th grade. At first, my role on the team was to design the team branding and advertising materials for the team. Over time, however, the clicking of chains interlocking onto sprockets; the static hiss of electric motors; the metal chimes of crashing aluminum magnetized me, all pulled me into orbit of the competitive robotics world. Soon, I dedicated my time in class to theorizing efficient intake systems, athome 3D modeling robot chassis, in workshop tightening bolts onto the robot. With no prior experience in engineering design, I fell back onto graphic design fundamentals using composition, space, balance, hierarchy, simplification. My dedication and design fundamentals paid off, and soon my robot drove 12928, beating internationally renowned teams on the road to the FTC Worlds Championship. After, the FIRST Global Challenge team representing the USA in 2018 invited me to design their brand and help with robot design. I became ambitious, and I sought to become an engineering tech mogul like Elon Musk Despite this, in the summer following graduation, my ambitions burned away when I discovered my queer identity. I wanted to be seen by the world for my queerness and authentic self. While newly enrolled at ACC, transitioning my gender was especially time-intensive and emotionally draining. Illustrating, I attended individual and group psychotherapy, I took dozens of blood tests, I visited my endocrinologist for hormones, I adjusted to my rapidly changing body and brain. Consequently, my studies at ACC took a hit; I got a B in Engineering Physics 1, and in the next semester, I withdrew from Calculus 3 and Engineering Physics 2. After resolving many of my queer related anxieties in therapy, I can now focus on my studies again, I attend office hours, and engage in online study groups for all my courses. In fact, I seek a more challenging curriculum after frequently teaching my ACC CAD professor 3D-modelling skills. During a championship with 12928, our team sat by the LGBTQIA+ outreach table. Irritated by queer existence, my co-captain and our robot pilot sneered slurs and chanted homophobic dog-whistles. I said nothing. Yet now, I want to. I want to speak up for myself, my queerness, my community; I want my engineering to tangibly help people and communities.

I am not male nor female. I do not fit into these groups – biologically and socially. Growing up in Catholic school, I learned a separation between men and women. Consequently, my parents and friends outcasted me for rebelling against patriarchal black-and-white gender roles. When I was 19, my doctor taught me: “You’re a mutant. You’re intersex.” I wasn’t repulsed by learning I was a mutant. Instead, I was ecstatic. Being intersex validated my gender.

One-Two-Nine-Two-Eight.” Those 5 numbers had just advanced me to FIRST Worlds Championship. High school robotics was my world. However before, visual arts and graphic design quenched my desire to design but it never sated my competitiveness. So, after entering competitive robotics, adrenaline electrocuted my veins, ambition wracked my head to discover narrow mechanical advantages, anxiety prayed for luck watching robots zip about the field, elation screamed squeezing my lungs after each championship advancement. Yet, in the summer of 2019, I discovered my queer identity, and I learned how marginalized and difficult life is for the queer community. Now, I want to uplift the LGBTQ+ community and other marginalized communities in solidarity through engineering. As a junior in high school, my advisor accidentally enrolled me in a newly created competitive robotics elective. Before FTC Team 12928, I thought about becoming an architect or graphic designer since 6th grade. At first, my role on the team was to design the team branding and advertising materials for the team. Over time, however, the clicking of chains interlocking onto sprockets; the static hiss of electric motors; the metal chimes of crashing aluminum magnetized me, all pulled me into orbit of the competitive robotics world. Soon, I dedicated my time in class to theorizing efficient intake systems, athome 3D modeling robot chassis, in workshop tightening bolts onto the robot. With no prior experience in engineering design, I fell back onto graphic design fundamentals using composition, space, balance, hierarchy, simplification. My dedication and design fundamentals paid off, and soon my robot drove 12928, beating internationally renowned teams on the road to the FTC Worlds Championship. After, the FIRST Global Challenge team representing the USA in 2018 invited me to design their brand and help with robot design. I became ambitious, and I sought to become an engineering tech mogul like Elon Musk Despite this, in the summer following graduation, my ambitions burned away when I discovered my queer identity. I wanted to be seen by the world for my queerness and authentic self. While newly enrolled at ACC, transitioning my gender was especially time-intensive and emotionally draining. Illustrating, I attended individual and group psychotherapy, I took dozens of blood tests, I visited my endocrinologist for hormones, I adjusted to my rapidly changing body and brain. Consequently, my studies at ACC took a hit; I got a B in Engineering Physics 1, and in the next semester, I withdrew from Calculus 3 and Engineering Physics 2. After resolving many of my queer related anxieties in therapy, I can now focus on my studies again, I attend office hours, and engage in online study groups for all my courses. In fact, I seek a more challenging curriculum after frequently teaching my ACC CAD professor 3D-modelling skills. In contrast, the myriad of engineering and robotics clubs at CU Boulder inspire me to challenge my engineering skills. Environmental justice community reflects my newfound values of environmentalism and environmental social justice. Specifically, their hydroponics project could help urban sustainability and directly assist mutual-aid groups. I hope the CU Boulder RoboMasters team reinstitutes itself after the pandemic, for I will surely dedicate hundreds of hours to competitive robotics once again. CU Boulder synthesizes my queerness and my engineering. During a championship with 12928, our team sat by the LGBTQIA+ outreach table. Irritated by queer existence, my co-captain and our robot pilot sneered slurs and chanted homophobic dog-whistles. I said nothing. Yet now, I want to. I want to speak up for myself, my queerness, my community; I want my engineering to tangibly help people and communities; I want to represent the queer community on the CU Boulder campus.