My parents immigrated to the United States from China, sacrificing everything so that my siblings and I could chase the American Dream. Their sacrifices are evident in my mother's troubled sleep and my father's calloused hands, symbols of the hardships they endured to provide us with privileged opportunities. Throughout my life, they have been workaholics, instilling a strong work ethic in me. In my upbringing, our garage became a makeshift sweatshop, where my maternal figures tirelessly sewed thousands of jackets. Meanwhile, my dad worked long hours, often asleep when I prepared for school and returning home after I had fallen asleep. Even today, my mom juggles three jobs, and my dad goes wherever work is needed, maintaining a demanding schedule. Their determination resulted in my siblings' college degrees, and I currently get the privilege of studying engineering at the University of Washington, Seattle. However, our journey to this point has been a challenge. Growing up in a multigenerational, low-income household posed internal conflicts regarding my identity. Balancing a traditional Chinese upbringing with a Westernized education made me question whether I was "Chinese enough" or "American enough." As my English proficiency grew, my Cantonese vocabulary dwindled, and I felt a sense of shame for losing touch with my heritage. Also living in Oakland, California—a culturally rich but predominantly black community—exposed me to the impact of Redlining and low-income neighborhoods, as I lived in one of the many. While I matured quickly due to my environment, I also found support in an understanding community. Nonetheless, my early advancement in math fueled my passion for STEM and led to the pursuit of an engineering career. Engineering promised stability and financial success, both aspects absent from my upbringing. Through relentless efforts, scholarships, and student loans, I achieved my dream of attending an out-of-state university. This great opportunity allows me to grow independently, free from the influences of my past environment, and the weight of responsibility pushes me to strive even harder for success. Even without a relocation, the first year of college entails its own significant challenges, from balancing academics to personal growth. Especially with the demanding "Weeder Courses'' as a first-year engineering undergrad, I paired these rigorous courses with STEM-related electives to maintain my motivation in pursuing this career path. As I learned later on, small implementations like that become crucial for a work-life balance, while I’ve been instilled as a workaholic. Throughout the year, I implemented methodologies to stay productive and discovered the importance of building a supportive network of engineering friends. I learned that studying in a non-home environment with a studious friend worked best for me. Also, creating a personal work schedule helped me avoid feeling overwhelmed and prevented many burnouts. Contrary to conventional approaches, my friend and I adopted a system where we studied seven days a week, staying ahead of our assignments. This allowed us to take breaks as needed, eliminating the productivity guilt when we forced ourselves to take a break on weekends. My passion for the success of my engineering degree is not only to make my parents proud but also for my own person fulfillment. I knew early on that I was going to pursue engineering. I continued to foster the goal because as I immersed myself in engineering courses and engaged in related activities, I could physically feel my excitement. The idea that I can improve something to work more efficiently or create a tangible product out of a mere idea ignites the same passion I’ve always had.

My parents immigrated to the United States from China, sacrificing everything so that my siblings and I could chase the American Dream. Their sacrifices are evident in my mother's troubled sleep and my father's calloused hands, symbols of the hardships they endured to provide us with privileged opportunities. Throughout my life, they have been workahloics, instilling a strong work ethic in me. In my upbringing, our garage became a makeshift sweatshop, where my maternal figures tirelessly sewed thousands of jackets. Meanwhile, my dad worked long hours, often asleep when I prepared for school and returning home after I had fallen asleep. Even today, my mom juggles three jobs, and my dad goes wherever work is needed, maintaining a demanding schedule. Their determination resulted in my siblings' college degrees, and I currently get the privilege of studying engineering at the University of Washington, Seattle. However, our journey to this point has been a challenge. Growing up in a multigenerational, low-income household posed internal conflicts regarding my identity. Balancing a traditional Chinese upbringing with a Westernized education made me question whether I was "Chinese enough" or "American enough." As my English proficiency grew, my Cantonese vocabulary dwindled, and I felt a sense of shame for losing touch with my heritage. Also living in Oakland, California—a culturally rich but predominantly black community—exposed me to the impact of Redlining and low-income neighborhoods, as I lived in one of the many. While I matured quickly due to my environment, I also found support in an understanding community. Therefore, I delved into ethnic studies, engaged in social work, and contemplated studying criminal justice. Nonetheless, my early advancement in math fueled my passion for STEM and led to the pursuit of an engineering career. Engineering promised stability and financial success, both aspects absent from my upbringing. Through relentless efforts, scholarships, and student loans, I achieved my dream of attending an out-of-state university. This great opportunity allows me to grow independently, free from the influences of my past environment, and the weight of responsibility pushes me to strive even harder for success.

Growing up in a traditional Chinese immigrant household, discussing emotions or mental health was unheard of. As I grew older, the struggle to communicate my needs and emotions became more apparent. However, I lacked the emotional vocabulary to advocate for myself effectively. On top of that, there was pressure from my low-income first-generation background to excel in my studies. The pressure to excel academically and the workaholic influence of my parents took its toll, leading to anxiety and my first panic attack. The feeling of anxiety stemmed from being overwhelmed and lead to imposter syndrome. I started doubting if I truly embraced my Chinese identity, feeling it slowly diminish within a Westernized education system. Additionally, I often question my intelligence as I continue to pursue an engineering career, an industry still heavily dominated by men, despite the slight progression towards equality. The mounting pressure created an internal struggle. As I believed everyone faces their challenges, it was also hard not to feel utterly alone on my own. However, a Restorative Justice Program provided a temporary respite from that state. The program focused on healing harm and conflict through community discussions. It taught me effective communication skills, enabling me to articulate my own needs while understanding others. When I left the program due to relocation, I felt confident in who I was and my ability to advocate for myself and others. Life, however, has its ups and downs, and the relocation knocked me back down after that period of growth. I moved from a culturally rich and diverse city, my childhood home, to a small affluent suburban town. I struggled academically due to the lack of resources compared to my previous education. Socially, I felt like an outsider among the tightly-knit group of kids who had grown up together. Before the move, I didn’t receive emotional support from my family, so I relied on second families like my Restorative Justice family. Losing those created support systems made me experience true loneliness for the first time. The feeling intensified until I reached a breaking point. It was then that I turned to my mother, seeking her help, which was a rare occurrence. Despite being a traditional Chinese woman who didn't know how to respond, she understood I needed help and worked with my siblings to get me professional help. With professional assistance, I regained the ability to communicate my needs and also discovered outlets for my emotions. To this day, I continue to work on being comfortable with my own company and embracing my own presence. Slowly building my independence also resulted in setting goals for myself. Convinced that I was trapped in an unfamiliar place that didn't feel like home, I took the initiative to apply to numerous colleges and scholarships to attend an out-of-state university. College became an opportunity for me to break free from my bubble and learn to find my authentic self without the influence of the environment I felt stuck in. Now, I am an Engineering undergraduate at a university in Seattle, the University of Washington, as a California native. And although I still struggle with occasional bouts of loneliness, and the imposter syndrome lingers, I am able to maintain a strong mindset. I constantly remind myself that I have a support system, working to heal previous broken relationships that I cared to keep and replacing harmful ones; while also giving myself the patience to slowly grow towards my educational and career goals.

Currently, I am an undergraduate student studying engineering at the University of Washington in Seattle. While I deeply love the Bay Area, where I grew up as a California native, I realized that I had become too comfortable in what I call the "Bay Area bubble." I was brought up in a very diverse neighborhood, rich in various cultures, meanwhile sharing common struggles within my community. I can proudly identify as a First-Generation American with Chinese immigrant parents while also having grown up low-income. But with the comfort of being well-connected within my community, I often lost sight of who I truly was. I kept questioning if my interests were merely an influence of those around me. I knew I had to physically distance myself from this comfort zone and with a blank slate in a new state, I can find my authentic self. The first year of college, without relocating, already feels like a drastic change, especially as a STEM major. Most of my classes are general education courses that are also major fulfillment requirements. I took a series of Chemistry and Calculus courses which were known as “Weeder Courses”, courses that are made intentionally more difficult to pass to ultimately “weed” out the student who can not handle the course work or material. Although I find the concept of “Weeder Courses” a flawed system, it truly tested my determination to pursue my engineering degree. I tried my best to schedule the courses I was required to take alongside fun STEM courses that would keep me motivated. For example, in one quarter I took an architectural landscaping class and in another, I took a Mechanical Engineering course, where I learned how to use Solidworks, a CAD program. All the while, navigating being alone in a new city not knowing a single soul. Luckily, my natural extroversion helped me make supportive friends. Having officially completed my first year of college, I have built myself a network to address STEM-related challenges and personal issues, while also just learning to rely on myself; riding the feeling of imposter syndrome that most women have studying in a male-dominated field. My aspiration is to contribute to the accessibility and enjoyment of engineering and STEM education. All too often, STEM subjects are perceived as intimidating, and systems are established that discourage individuals from pursuing them. However, I am determined to demonstrate to people that STEM can be intriguing and enjoyable, with the hope of inspiring future engineers. As a female student of color currently studying engineering, I am already playing a role in transforming the landscape of this field into a more inclusive and diverse space. By actively participating and excelling in my studies, I aim to challenge stereotypes and encourage underrepresented groups to pursue STEM disciplines. It is my belief that by fostering inclusivity and promoting diverse perspectives, we can create an environment where everyone feels welcome and empowered to contribute their unique skills and ideas.

A project in the technological world that greatly interests me and holds immense potential for making a positive environmental impact is solar geoengineering. Solar geoengineering involves the deliberate manipulation of Earth's climate system to counteract global warming. It focuses on producing artificial clouds or releasing aerosols into the atmosphere, which effectively deflect sunlight, thereby cooling down our planet. What captivates me about this project is the considerable controversy surrounding the pros and cons of implementing such techniques. Solar geoengineering is a topic that sparks intense debates and raises critical questions about the implications of creating artificial clouds. While it remains uncertain whether solar geoengineering will ever be widely adopted, its very existence has profoundly influenced my perspective on my engineering career. Traditionally, I viewed engineering as the process of devising innovative solutions to optimize the efficiency of various problems or tasks. However, solar geoengineering challenges this notion by highlighting the complexity inherent in addressing environmental issues. It reveals that there might not be a simple, straightforward solution or a single desired outcome. Even if a particular engineering product or technique is developed, its consequences may not be entirely clear. In a research documentary I recently watched on solar geoengineering, most engineers concurred that the technology holds the potential to successfully lower global temperatures. However, the crux of the debate lies in determining whether the overall benefits outweigh the potential drawbacks. This ethical dilemma underscores the need for careful consideration, extensive research, and rigorous evaluation before implementing such large-scale interventions in our climate system. As an aspiring engineer, solar geoengineering has broadened my understanding of the complexities associated with tackling global challenges. It has instilled in me a sense of responsibility to carefully assess the potential consequences of any technological solution I may work on in the future. By critically examining the trade-offs and engaging in comprehensive discourse, we can strive to strike a balance between innovation and environmental stewardship for the betterment of our planet and future generations.

Although I am not an immigrant myself, I share many similar struggles as a first-generation-born American. My parents immigrated to the US from China not knowing a speck of English. I got the privilege of getting the education they could not but not without its challenges. It started with my language barrier, being placed into ESL, English as a Second Language, classes; learning English in school but also maintaining my mother tongue. As my proficiency in English grows and my vocabulary in Cantonese continues to disappear, I feel a sense of shame that I am losing my culture, where I’m from. Since I have worked on learning more about my culture, therefore breaking this emotional front that also exists within it. Building upon the comfort of who I am, also helps me be confident in pursuing my dreams. I am currently an engineering undergraduate attending the University of Washington in Seattle. I can not understand Malgorzata’s struggle with moving to another country however, I can understand it to a smaller magnitude of moving states. I am a California native and I love where I grew up in the Bay Area. Even so, I felt stuck in what I called the “Bay Area bubble”. I am so connected within the community that I lost a sense of who I was. I kept questioning if everything I liked or did was only an influence of those around me. I knew I had to get out of this comfort zone and with a blank slate, find out what person I truly am. The first year of college already feels like a drastic change without a big move, especially as a stem major. Most of my classes are general education courses that are also major fulfillment requirements. I took a series of Chemistry and Calculus courses which were known as “Weeder Courses”, courses that are made intentionally more difficult to pass to ultimately “weed” out the student who can not handle the course work or material. Though I find the “Weeder Courses” a flawed system, it truly tested my determination to pursue my engineering degree. I tried my best to schedule the courses I was required to take alongside fun STEM courses that would keep my motivation in studying in STEM. One quarter I took an architectural landscaping class and in another, I took a Mechanical Engineering course, where I learned how to use Solidworks, a CAD program. All the while, navigating being alone in a new city not knowing a single soul. Luckily, I find myself naturally extroverted and found supportive friends. As I learn to be on my own, I also found the importance of a good support system. So now, having officially finished my first year of college, I have built support systems for stem-related issues, personal issues, and also just learning to rely on myself, riding the feeling of imposter syndrome that most women have studying in a male-dominated field.