I see the next patient walk into the office. A huge smile forms beneath my mask and I go up to him to share my excitement. The last time I saw him he arrived in a wheelchair with the goal to walk. Determined to meet that goal, he told me, “growing old ain’t for wimps.” He is one of the many patients I see experiencing the changes that happen to the body as they age. They come to the prosthetics and orthotics clinic seeking artificial limbs or braces to lessen pain, enhance mobility, or provide stability. As a prosthetic and orthotic assistant, I spend my time assessing their function, listening to their goals, and developing a treatment plan to support their needs. My favorite part of the job is listening to the patient’s goals. This is where I learn about their day-to-day life and what is limiting them. I use this information to picture how prosthetic and orthotic devices can complement and enhance their life. The goals vary from standing in order to cook in the kitchen to keeping up with their grandchildren. Then, when I see them again, I learn where they are in their journey to meet their goals and strategize if changes need to be made to their device. I am thrilled to see when my senior patients reach their goals and celebrate the stories they now experience.

I was the art kid. If nearby roads were under construction I would steal the exposed clay for new projects. My ability to design and create something out of random, found components is my bread and butter. As my curiosity for art developed, so has my scientific curiosity. Google, for instance, is my rabbit hole. A simple thought sprouts in my head, and moments later I find myself in a deep query with several tabs of research articles. The focus of my curiosities belongs to those of the human body: how we function, move, and otherwise go about life. I viewed my passions of art and science to be so strikingly different that the two fields had to be incompatible in the job market. And I thought I must choose a child: art or science. But then in my early career searches I came across the profession certified prosthetist and orthotist. I discover that prosthetists and orthotists are incredible professionals who are engineers for the human body by building medical supportive devices such as braces and artificial limbs to decrease pain, increase mobility, or provide stability. I was intrigued, I had to know more. It was seven years ago on the first day I shadowed a certified orthotist when I knew I could harmonize my two passions. My mentor simply stated, “Orthotics and prosthetics are half art and half science.” In his lab, I quickly learned how power tools, human molds, and plaster could stick to every surface, including my heart. Without a doubt, I concluded that being a practitioner in orthotics and prosthetics truly culminates my passions as a scientific field with an artistic bend. The beauty of the practice is that I gain autonomy over my passions. I get to utilize both my art and science skills to engineer a treatment. Better yet, I discover a greater passion: my handiwork and knowledge return autonomy and comfort to my future patients. At the clinic where I shadowed, a middle-aged woman entered with foot pain to the point of unemployment. Her treatment was arch supports: a simple and very routine product to manufacture. But I could tell that those simple arch supports meant much more to her. When she stepped into her new insoles, tears dripped down her face in long, yearning relief. She can return to the workforce, and she can live her day-to-day life in comfort. I want autonomy to be a guiding principle in my future endeavors. I believe autonomy fosters happiness in others in addition to myself. Akin to my mentor and the women treated with arch supports, I know that my skills and interactions with my patients will promote independence and comfort. I am thrilled to spend my future studying orthotics and prosthetics, covered with plaster, developing devices, and rediscovering independence with my patients. What’s more, the exciting thing about the orthotic and prosthetic professions is that I am part of its transition from a white, male-dominated occupation to a diversified profession. Out of all eight clinics where I shadowed, only one in six were females; moreover, these female practitioners were relatively new to the field. Today, I am proud to say I, a female, am pursuing this STEAM field to make myself an equal part of the profession and inspire other young females to pursue the joys of STEAM.

I was the art kid. If nearby roads were under construction I would steal the exposed clay for new projects. My ability to design and create something out of random, found components is my bread and butter. As my curiosity for art developed, so has my scientific curiosity. Google, for instance, is my rabbit hole. A simple thought sprouts in my head, and moments later I find myself in a deep query with several tabs of research articles. The focus of my curiosities belongs to those of the human body: how we function, move, and otherwise go about life. In my junior year of high school, the biology teacher took note of my excellence in General Biology and she asks me every time we pass each other if I signed up for AP Biology. Although I find the material interesting, I cannot imagine a career involving biology that does not throw my art passion aside. I view my passions of art and science to be so strikingly different that the two fields had to be incompatible in the job market. Signing up for AP Biology feels to me like giving up on art. Then one day she tells me she nominated me for a program to shadow medical professionals. I take the sheet and look over the occupations. I recognize all but one job: orthotist. Curious, I google the occupation. I find that orthotists, who brace the body, tend to also be certified prosthetists, who provide devices to replace a missing body part. I decide I might as well try it out. On the first day I shadow the orthotist, he simply states, “Orthotics is half art and half science.” In his lab, I quickly learn how power tools, human molds, and plaster can stick to every surface, including my heart. Without a doubt, I conclude that being a practitioner in orthotics and prosthetics truly culminates my interests as a scientific field with an artistic bend. I excitedly tell my teacher that I signed up for AP Biology. I thank her for taking notice of me and for encouraging me to pursue my interests by furthering my courses and shadowing related careers. I share that I have the goal of becoming a certified prosthetist and orthotist. This goal requires a bachelor's and master's degree so I start looking into college education. I would not enroll in higher education had it not been for the goal of a specific career in mind. I have my teacher to thank for her influence in my choice to attend higher education. I know I am all the happier for it. Now, I pass on her torch by encouraging others to be curious and try out their interests. I plan to begin a program once I am a certified practitioner that introduces STEM to young females. I hope to foster their curiosity, just as my teacher fostered mine.

I was the art kid. If nearby roads were under construction I would steal the exposed clay for new projects. My ability to design and create something out of random, found components is my bread and butter. As my curiosity for art developed, so has my scientific curiosity. Google, for instance, is my rabbit hole. A simple thought sprouts in my head, and moments later I find myself in a deep query with several tabs of research articles. The focus of my curiosities belongs to those of the human body: how we function, move, and otherwise go about life. I viewed my passions of art and science to be so strikingly different that the two fields had to be incompatible in the job market. And I thought I must choose a child: art or science. But then in my early career searches I came across the profession certified prosthetist and orthotist. Prosthetists and orthotists are incredible professionals who are engineers for the human body by building medical supportive devices such as braces and artificial limbs. I was intrigued, I had to know more. It was six years ago on the first day I shadowed a Certified Orthotist when I knew I could harmonize my two passions. My mentor simply stated, “Orthotics and prosthetics are half art and half science.” In their lab, I quickly learned how power tools, human molds, and plaster could stick to every surface, including my heart. Without a doubt, I concluded that a practitioner in orthotics and prosthetics truly culminates my passions as a scientific field with an artistic bend. Since the start, my mentor and I have spent extended work days discussing the orthotics and prosthetics field. They listened to my many questions and would often counter the questions back at me to encourage my speculations. They even taught me how to fabricate devices! I am proud to say I continue to wear the arch supports of my own handiwork. My mentor hid nothing from me about the field. I saw patients in traumatizing situations. They informed me about management, including the firing of their employee. I also observed the tedious paper trail requirements of medical professions and the battle against insurance companies. Most notably, my mentor impressed upon me what there is to gain. The beauty of the practice is that I gain autonomy over my passions. I get to utilize both my art and science skills to engineer a treatment. Better yet, my handiwork and knowledge return autonomy and comfort to my future patients. At the clinic, a middle-aged woman entered with foot pain to the point of unemployment. Her treatment was arch supports: a simple and very routine product to manufacture. But I could tell that those simple arch supports meant much more to her. When she stepped into her new insoles, tears dripped down her face in long, yearning relief. She can return to the workforce, and she can live her day-to-day life in comfort. I want autonomy to be a guiding principle in my future endeavors. I like to believe autonomy fosters happiness in others in addition to myself. Akin to my mentor and the women treated with arch supports, I know that my skills and interactions with my patients will promote independence and comfort. Further, I am proud that my work will transform communities towards greater accessibility as my patients pursue their passions in comfort and improved function. I am thrilled to spend my future covered with plaster, developing devices, and rediscovering independence with my patients.

San Junipero of the Black Mirror series is one of my favorite films because it is about living amongst dying and living in a stagnant world. The story is about a dystopian world where consciousness can be uploaded into an eternal simulation. It evokes thought. In a world where nothing matters because you live forever in an unchanging world, could forever be satisfying? Although we do not have this option of eternity, the film increases my appreciation for what life I have now. My life has meaning because it is temporary. Furthermore, the film shows how our definitions of meaning and living change based on the people we meet. One of the main characters did not wish to live in the simulation until she found love with the other protagonist. I believe this is what makes life beautiful - the relationships that intermingle with my life story. Lastly, San Junipero is sentimental. It was filmed largely in Cape Town, South Africa. This is a place where I lived for five months and cherish dearly. When I watch the film, I cannot help but reminisce about the beauty of the city, the people I met, and the memories I experienced.

*Thump* My friend’s hand lays atop my book. She asks rhetorically, “Guess what I did last night?” I look from her hand to her face to her hand, palm up. She continues, “I was using scissors and dropped them, then stupidly tried to grab them and they cut me.” “Oh no!” I immediately wrap my hands around her battle wounds as a mini hug. Her wrist revealed several cuts marks. “How could that happen?” I inquire, confused by the position and multitude of slashes. “I don’t know, I guess I am just that skilled at being clumsy.” I take her word, not knowing anything different. I give her wrist a healing kiss and we continue our day as usual. A few years later we catch up on our undergrad experiences. She shares her struggles and that she has trouble seeing anything good about her days. I reply, “That is ok.” Her chest falls as if a weight lifted and softly laughs. She shares that she has not felt accepted nor normal for her battle. We ended the conversation with the conclusion that sometimes the only good thing about a day, if any, is the toasty cheese sandwich from lunch. I think it is important to continue listening, validating, and normalizing the ever-present struggle with mental health. It is normal. Conversations continue beyond self, friends, and family to coworkers and community members. Particularly in education systems, it is important to have these conversations so that more people will recognize when fallen scissors are not just fallen scissors and that more people will be comfortable speaking about their battle. My friend’s experiences have elements of isolation and vulnerable exposure. As it was the latter that prompted conversation, I continue this mission by being vulnerably open when I struggle. My friend sharing her normal, me sharing my normal, and so forth with others is what builds a healing community.

Good-byes are powerful. They put words to feelings, give closure, pass on blessings, and are reminders of our relationships. I find good-byes to be painful, but only momentarily, as I also feel appreciated and connected. Without good-byes, my mind cannot let go and I am in a state of regret, anger, and confusion over the relationship. Covid-19 has impeded my ability to say good-bye. My role model great-grand Uncle Frank taught me to care for nature as we made our annual homemade maple syrup and picked pears from his fruitful pear tree. As a medical doctor, he demonstrated how to care for and listen to individuals and our communities. Then on 6 September 2020, Uncle Frank passed away. Due to Covid-19 concerns, I could not hug my grandmother, who just lost her uncle, and I could not attend the funeral service, which had restricted capacity. I could not say good-bye and celebrate his life. I was unsettled. Slowly I amend our relationship as I recall the person he was. Today I remember Uncle Frank as I strive to fight for the environment that he cherished. Today I remember Uncle Frank as I study to be a great medical professional just like him. These recollections have become my way to celebrate Uncle Frank and say good-bye. Being a December 2019 graduating student, I am thankful to not have to manage the sudden shift toward online learning. What I did miss is participation in graduation celebrations with the rest of my class throughout spring 2020. Normally, celebrations at the time of achievement maintain my excitement and connection to my community; then afterward I package the journey into fond memories. But when the pandemic forced the graduation celebrations to be postponed and transferred to virtual events or canceled, I felt an air of forgetfulness; my excitement faded away, the virtual events seemed like an insignificant formality, and I felt unacknowledged. The peers, faculty, and professors with whom I met, struggled, and learned, I have yet to part. I am grateful that technology exists for safe, virtual good-byes. Yet I learned that texting, Facebook stalking, and video chats do not elicit the same feelings of presence as in-person conversations and a heart-warming touch good-bye. I worked as a product safety specialist for a personal care company throughout 2020. With the demand for hygiene products that Covid-19 precautions required, my position became more valuable. Consequently, my contract was extended by six months. With that continued salary, I can finance my graduate school living expenses rather than commit to more loans. Despite these financial gains, I had to abruptly leave my coworkers and work from home. We no longer had our after-work, drawn-out midwestern good-byes. Then when my contract ended, my final good-byes to my coworkers became abrupt and awkward as we stared at our empty screens. Working from home disrupted my routines and ability to focus. I had to learn to say good-bye to my schedule and adapt. Pre-pandemic, my morning drive was my wake-up as I soaked in my dose of the morning sun; during-pandemic, I groggily woke as I walked to the dim basement and stared at the loading computer. After a couple of weeks, I learned that the simple act of dressing helped my body rev up for the day. The benefits from working at home were the financial and environmental gains of having no commute. Conversely, I had to mix my work and personal life as my brain saw no change of space and my family members posed as a distraction. I needed to improve communication with my family by explaining my need to separate work and personal life. Furthermore, the disruption of routines has a severe impact on my mental health. Instead of exercising after work, I had to end my fitness to avoid contact with others. Consequently, my mental health suffered as I lost an outlet that made me feel happy and healthy. Also, my home isolation at times felt like a trap. I lived with my parents throughout 2020 and I had little opportunity for a peaceful environment. There was constant noise, especially over the 2020 election. I had to overhear the news and my parent’s views that opposed my own. It was difficult living under constant stress. I started to wear headphones that released white-noise to help muffle some sounds. I found that the headphones returned some control to my life as I felt safest and healthiest within my own thoughts. When I began in-person classes in January 2021, my peers were assigned to teams of eight and encouraged to socialize only within our team. Academically, I greatly enjoyed the intimate faculty-to-student ratio and the tight bonds I formed with my team. School has satisfied our desperation for interaction and routine. What I find uncomfortable is that the teams turned into cliques; I want to freely converse with my whole cohort, but I have an obligation to keep my distance. When I see someone outside my team, I give a meek wave to say hello and good-bye. I look forward to the day I can safely interact with all of my peers. A way for me to find closure is through writing and I am grateful for scholarship opportunities which have been the largest writing contributor. The various scholarship prompts encourage me to reflect, place words with my feelings, and organize my spirling thoughts. I may not be able to say good-bye and I am learning to be ok with that. Writing allows me to share my experiences; and by reliving these relationships, I can say good-bye and complete the memories. I thank this scholarship for providing me the outlet to find peace. I learned that good-byes are important in my connection with myself and the world. I am optimistic that even in a world without good-byes, we can adapt to find our peace amongst the pain. Until next time, Kelly

I am a succ-er for Peach, my most furry companion. 2020 is a hectic year, but one where we both have grown so much! @haenkelly

Prosthetists and orthotists are incredible professionals who are engineers for the human body by building medical supportive devices such as braces and artificial limbs. I am currently working on earning a new degree: Master of Prosthetics and Orthotics. Although I enjoyed my year using my biology degree I quickly learned that I am happiest in a changing environment rather than a cubicle. I also missed utilizing my artistic side as tools are much more exciting than keyboards. When I shadowed a certified orthotist, he told me that the field is half art and half science; I knew then that I need to pursue the field further. An important aspect of any career is understanding where the field is headed. I look forward to attending conferences, such as the American Academy of Orthotists and Prosthetics Annual Meeting, to see the exciting developments in devices that may better suit my patients. Conferences are also a great way to network with various professionals and catch up with colleagues. I am excited to apply the grant to annual conferences so that I can expand my career as a student, resident, and professional. The grant will cover travel and attendance fees. Thank you for the impactful opportunity!

Mental health is something I neglected. Yet music inspires me to engage with my emotions. It also opens me to a community of artists who feel as I feel; it is comforting to know that others feel likewise and want to experience feelings with listeners. The song I share with you is Dreamin’ by Raelee Nikole. The song reminds me it is ok to take time for myself. The playlist expands upon these feelings by engaging my presence, acknowledging that it is ok to feel anxious and sad, but also content and happy. Thank you for listening with me! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2Aq9wsv37M&list=PLiO54EyO9rPj8mF2_LFl66QbLAxACu7wS

“Why are you here?” my professor asks the class during my first week of undergraduate school. He continues, “Because if you do not know the answer you should consider dropping out.” I was stunned. I have not considered the “why” behind higher education because that is just what I assumed was a normal step in life: acquire an expensive piece of paper [the diploma] that says I can enter the workforce. Yet my professor has placed so much weight on that question that he believes it better to drop out than to not have an answer. It takes me my entire undergraduate years to reflect, understand, and answer my professor’s question. Education does elicit knowledge, but knowledge is not the purpose of attending higher education. The power of education, I come to understand, is awareness of realities. More specifically, awareness of realities and perspectives that are not my own. The world is filled with a beautiful diversity of perspectives and it has been my privilege to experience global communities and meet ingenious minds throughout my education. Following this awareness comes action. Education calls upon me the responsibility to choose what I care about and what I will work towards, given these perspectives. To answer my professor’s question, I attend higher education as a launching pad towards my career as a Certified Prosthetist and Orthotist, working alongside people with disabilities in a more environmentally sustainable community. I thank education for introducing me to the incredible staff, educators, peers, community members, nature, and places throughout my educational journey.

Arch supports are a simple and routine product to manufacture for orthotists. But I believe that prosthetic and orthotic devices, such as arch supports, provide exceptional clinical importance and environmental opportunity. I am excited to study prosthetics and orthotics because it is engineering for the body. The beauty of the practice is that I gain autonomy over my passions. I get to utilize both my art and science skills to engineer a treatment. Better yet, my handiwork and knowledge return autonomy and comfort to my future patients. I need to ensure that the devices I fabricate provide better patient health in alignment with the patient’s goals. At the clinic where I shadow, a middle-aged woman entered with foot pain to the point of unemployment. Her treatment was arch supports, but I could tell those simple arch supports meant much more to her. When she stepped into her new insoles, tears dripped down her face in long, yearning relief. She can return to the workforce, and she can live her day-to-day life in comfort. I want autonomy to be a guiding principle in my future endeavors. I like to believe autonomy fosters happiness in others in addition to myself. Akin to my mentor and the women treated with arch supports, I know that my skills and interactions with my patients will promote independence and comfort. Biomechanically, arch supports carry much importance because foot alignment translates correction throughout the whole body. My fabricated devices need to display anatomical proficiency to provide the appropriate mechanical correction. I am proud to say I continue to wear the arch supports of my own handiwork and can attest to my postural improvement. Ultimately, the success of my ability as an engineer is rooted in the success of the patient. The work I do enhances the patient’s quality of life. I execute appropriate material selection to meet the requirements of the patient’s lifestyle and prosthetic and orthotic needs. I also ensure the device shapes to the patient’s unique bodily contours. Custom devices are essential for human bodies in order to give quality health care. I adjust the devices during fittings and follow-ups to improve device function and avoid sensitive areas of the body. For example, I need to form a hole and apply softer materials for patients with ulcers. Material selection becomes increasingly critical as the environment demands improved conservation efforts. At Northwestern University’s Master's Program in Prosthetics and Orthotics, I look forward to developing a thesis project that advances ecologically friendly materials in prosthetics and orthotics. I believe that prosthetic and orthotic devices, even the simple arch supports, have the opportunity for improved solutions that reduces waste and pollution while still maintaining quality technical characteristics needed for patient health. I am thrilled to spend my future covered with plaster, developing devices, and rediscovering independence with my patients. My engineering excellence is that I advance independence for others in a sustainable world. I am grateful for the Markforged Distinguished Women Engineers Grant for the opportunity to share my project and support my passions.

It was five years ago on the first day I shadowed a Certified Orthotist when I knew I can harmonize my art and science passions. My mentor, owner and sole practitioner of his clinic, simply stated, “Orthotics is half art and half science.” In his lab, I quickly learned how power tools, human molds, and plaster could stick to every surface, including my heart. Without a doubt, I concluded that a practitioner in orthotics and prosthetics truly culminates my passions as a scientific field with an artistic bend. Since the start, my mentor and I spent extended work days discussing the orthotics and prosthetics field. He listened to my many questions and would often counter the questions back at me to encourage my speculations. He even taught me how to fabricate devices! I am proud to say I continue to wear the arch supports of my own handiwork. My mentor hid nothing from me about the field. I saw patients in traumatizing situations. He informed me about management, including the firing of his employee. I also observed the tedious paper trail requirements of medical professions and the battle against insurance companies. Most notably, my mentor impressed upon me what there is to gain. The beauty of the practice is that I gain autonomy over my passions. I get to utilize both my art and science skills to engineer a treatment. Better yet, my handiwork and knowledge return autonomy and comfort to my future patients. At the clinic, a middle-aged woman entered with foot pain to the point of unemployment. Her treatment was arch supports: a simple and very routine product to manufacture. But I could tell those simple arch supports meant much more to her. When she stepped into her new insoles, tears dripped down her face in long, yearning relief. She can return to the workforce, and she can live her day-to-day life in comfort. I want autonomy to be a guiding principle in my future endeavors. I like to believe autonomy fosters happiness in others in addition to myself. Akin to my mentor and the women treated with arch supports, I know that my skills and interactions with my patients will promote independence and comfort. My mentor’s clinic taught me that I belong in the small business prosthetic and orthotic community because I get to exercise my art and science passions through fabrication. At larger clinic chains, there are often manufacturing facilities to fabricate all devices while the practitioner fits and adjusts. I am thrilled to spend my future covered with plaster, developing devices, and rediscovering independence with my patients at my future small business clinic.

My favorite places to shop online include Amazon, eBay, and Eco Girl Shop. I use Amazon for its expansive products. I need items such as furniture, technology, clothes, and books for graduate school, all of which are found on Amazon. I also use Amazon as a tool to review various product variants with its comparison features and plentiful reviews; then I buy directly from the manufacturer if they offer better deals. eBay is an excellent site where I can find a great variety of products. eBay surpasses Amazon in that eBay provides reused and refurbished products. I get great, diverse products that save my wallet and reduce my ecological footprint! I enjoy purchasing products through Eco Girl Shop. I want to be a responsible consumer and Eco Girl Shop makes it easy. They offer various quality products that minimize waste and sales that make it affordable to live more sustainably! Another great plus is that they are female-owned.

My favorite tools to learn about personal finance are Vanguard, Green America, and TED Talks. Vanguard is an investment company that provides ample educational lessons on retirement accounts and savings. Their tools allow me to budget for my goals. Their help center is another valuable feature that helps me learn about investment through one-to-one interaction. Green Ameria is an organization that teaches where to place one’s money. They advocate voting by the dollar to hold consumers responsible to build a green economy. I also learn better ways to bank and invest to benefit people and the environment. One of my favorite pastimes is to watch TED Talks. TED provides a platform for speakers to share ideas. In regards to finances, they provide insightful and creative approaches in ways that support emotional health, social systems, career achievement, and savings.

An A is a good thing, right? An A gets you into the good colleges and universities, the good internships, and the good jobs. I need to have competitive grades. Then it happened. As a freshman in college I seal my <4.0 fate with an AB in General Chemistry. What does the A even mean? It suggests achievement, but it does not guarantee my abilities. To be honest with me, I do not remember most of the information after just taking the exam; the letter does not help me in my future. I need to understand the material to be competent in my career. I cannot be free if I am obsessed with the letter A. In the A-mindset, there is always a cloud over my head saying that there is more I should do to keep perfect grades. It does not matter what I have done or how I feel after an exam because I do not know if I adapted to the teacher’s A standards. After losing the pressure to maintain a 4.0 GPA, I adopt what I dub the “failure-mindset”. The failure-mindset acknowledges the possibility of failure as an opportunity to learn. Under the failure-mindset, I become confident in my abilities because I define what I learn and not my grades. What I did not understand in past, I learn later. The key thought is that I continue my life. I learn, I try, I learn again, and try again. I am free to move ahead by gleaning what is important from my experiences and I move to my next action. *two years later* I walk to anatomy class. We will learn the results of the latest exam. I need to do well in anatomy because it is the last pre-requisite course for my intended graduate school program, Master of Prosthetics and Orthotics. The air is laced with stress. Interestingly, the stress belongs to my peers; I find myself content. I know I understand the material. I am proud of what I prepared and executed. I am eager to expand my knowledge further. I continue my life. *18 months later* The failure-mindset does not protect me from experiencing negativity. I still get anxious. There are many unknowns and pressures I face. I work full-time and I am a full-time graduate student during a pandemic. I am the first of my family to attend graduate school. I want to be proud of myself and be a competent prosthetist and orthotist for my future patients. The failure-mindset allows me to live by actively learning and choosing what I want to learn in academic, work, and personal life. I am grateful for that first non-A because it instilled my confidence and drive for learning. My future is all the more positive. I continue my life.

I walk to the bus to begin another day of high school. The six am walk is usually quiet and peaceful, but today there is stress in the air. I have a big exam today. There are two voices in my head: my mother’s “I hope you get an A!”, and my own head trying to recall what I scribbled in my notebook at 11 pm last night. I mean, an A is a good thing, right? An A gets you into the good colleges and universities, the good internships, and the good jobs. I need to have competitive grades. *six hours later* I enter the chemistry classroom. Half the class will take the dreadful exam next period, a mere 50 minutes away. The teacher, Mr. K, senses the anxiety and seizes the opportunity for him to tell a personal story. He opens with the introduction of his girlfriend from back in undergraduate school. She was obsessed with getting As and maintaining her 4.0 GPA. Mr. K was the opposite. After earning a B, he can never have a 4.0 GPA. “Isn’t that freeing?” he asks rhetorically. How could it be? I blow off his question so I can focus on the imminent exam. *two hours later* I finish the exam and plop my mentally drained body in a bus seat. I get the short straw of my house being the last stop, so I have an hour and a half to focus on schoolwork. But I could not focus for Mr. K’s story kept nagging my mind. I yield and try to understand why a subpar GPA could be freeing. *30 minutes later* I had it wrong. Mr. K’s ex-girlfriend was obsessed; I cannot be free if I am obsessed with the letter A. In the A-mindset, there is always a cloud over my head saying that there is more I should do to keep perfect grades. It does not matter what I have done or how I feel after an exam because I do not know if I adapted to the teacher’s A standards. What does the A even mean? It suggests achievement, but it does not guarantee my abilities. To be honest with me, I do not remember most of the information after just taking the exam; the letter does not help me in my future. I need to understand the material to be competent in my career. Learning is what is marketable, and learning is the tool I need to be successful. Perhaps. I continue my schoolwork. *two years later* It happened. As a freshman in college I seal my <4.0 fate. Ironically, the faulted class is in chemistry. I study the errors I made, and I continue my life. After losing the pressure to maintain a 4.0 GPA, I adopt what I dub the “failure-mindset”. The failure-mindset acknowledges the possibility of failure as an opportunity to learn. Under the failure-mindset, I become confident in my abilities because I define what I learn and not my grades. What I did not understand in past, I learn later. The key thought is that “I continue my life”. I learn, I try, I learn again, and try again. I am free to move ahead by gleaning what is important from my experiences and I move to my next action. *two years later* I walk to anatomy class. We will learn the results of the latest exam. I need to do well in anatomy because it is the last pre-requisite course for my intended graduate school program, Master of Prosthetics and Orthotics. The air is laced with stress. Interestingly, the stress belongs to my peers; I find myself content. I know I understand the material. I am proud of what I prepared and executed. I am eager to expand my knowledge further. I continue my life. *18 months later* The failure-mindset does not protect me from experiencing negativity. I still get anxious. There are many unknowns and pressures I face. I work full-time and I am a full-time graduate student during a pandemic. I am the first of my family to attend graduate school. I want to be proud of myself and be a competent prosthetist and orthotist for my future patients. The failure-mindset allows me to live by actively learning and choosing what I want to learn in academic, work, and personal life. Mr. K inspired me to question my motives. In doing so, he instilled my confidence and drive for learning. To live is to learn and my future is all the more positive. I continue my life.

T o the superwomen Dr. K: H aving known you for four years, A lot of memories were shared, N ot just out in the field where we were K nee deep in the rivers, but also when we visited at Y our office, your lab, and your favorite frozen custard shop. O h, the things you taught me, the ideas you inspired, and the support you gave, U nleased the best parts of the person I grew to be. D iligently, you taught me how to be an impactful female scientist through our research and volunteering. R. adiantly, you implanted the joys of the environment and stoked the passion to fight for it. K indly, you uplifted even the lowliest of days. Thank you Dr. K for being a blessing in my life and an excellent model for my future. Your words and actions make you a true superwoman.

I am a succ-er for Peach, my most furry companion. 2020 is a hectic year, but one where we both have grown so much! @haenkelly

I was the art kid. If nearby roads were under construction I would steal the exposed clay for new projects. My ability to design and create something out of random, found components is my bread and butter. As my curiosity for art developed, so has my scientific curiosity. Google, for instance, is my rabbit hole. A simple thought sprouts in my head, and moments later I find myself in a deep query with several tabs of research articles. The focus of my curiosities belongs to those of the human body: how we function, move, and otherwise go about life. I viewed my passions of art and science to be so strikingly different that the two fields had to be incompatible in the job market. And I thought I must choose a child: art or science. It was five years ago on the first day I shadowed a Certified Orthotist when I knew I can harmonize my two passions. My mentor simply stated, “Orthotics is half art and half science.” In his lab, I quickly learned how power tools, human molds, and plaster could stick to every surface, including my heart. Without a doubt, I concluded that a practitioner in orthotics and prosthetics truly culminates my passions as a scientific field with an artistic bend. Since the start, my mentor and I spent extended work days discussing the orthotics and prosthetics field. He listened to my many questions and would often counter the questions back at me to encourage my speculations. He even taught me how to fabricate devices! I am proud to say I continue to wear the arch supports of my own handiwork. My mentor hid nothing from me about the field. I saw patients in traumatizing situations. He informed me about management, including the firing of his employee. I also observed the tedious paper trail requirements of medical professions and the battle against insurance companies. Most notably, my mentor impressed upon me what there is to gain. The beauty of the practice is that I gain autonomy over my passions. I get to utilize both my art and science skills to engineer a treatment. Better yet, my handiwork and knowledge return autonomy and comfort to my future patients. At the clinic, a middle-aged woman entered with foot pain to the point of unemployment. Her treatment was arch supports: a simple and very routine product to manufacture. But I could tell those simple arch supports meant much more to her. When she stepped into her new insoles, tears dripped down her face in long, yearning relief. She can return to the workforce, and she can live her day-to-day life in comfort. I want autonomy to be a guiding principle in my future endeavors. I like to believe autonomy fosters happiness in others in addition to myself. Akin to my mentor and the women treated with arch supports, I know that my skills and interactions with my patients will promote independence and comfort. I am thrilled to spend my future covered with plaster, developing devices, and rediscovering independence with my patients. I thank my mentor for introducing me to his beautiful world of orthotics and for his continuous support in my career.

Algal blooms attack our freshwater systems. I am proud to have led my team in our community’s remediation project to manage their lake’s water quality for improved recreational use, aesthetic value, and system health.