Waves push us forward, sometimes they carry us exactly where we’re meant to go. Other times, they pull us under, further than we ever wished to be. I’ve spent a long time learning to navigate the currents between passion and pressure, art and economics, culture and expectation. And it all began with a violin. When I was younger, people reacted to my violin playing as if I’d been cured of cancer or won the lottery. I never understood the amazement, especially since I hated playing. As I got older, I found myself drowning in long speeches from strangers about the significance of being a young black girl with a violin, and I couldn’t fathom what evoked such reactions to my dreadful craft. But entering my sophomore year, I began paying attention to the world of string players. I saw how few looked like me. The ripples I had ignored were now waves, revealing what I was truly up against. In a small district far, far away, Aldine ISD, there’s a vertical alignment of magnet schools centered around the arts. These are the only schools in the district with orchestra programs, and admission is through a lottery. If you’re lucky enough to get in, being an orchestra kid entails constantly staying on your A-game. In 2025, Black and Hispanic string players combined totaled under seven percent nationwide. We are a needle in a haystack. If we fall, the art of strings in our community may fall with us. To balance the scales, we high schoolers go on recruitment trips to promote orchestra participation. And like a broken record, every time I ask younger kids about their future goals, I hear “NFL player” or “rapper.” The sound of music is out of sight, out of mind. Many of these students have been in the magnet program their whole lives, but years of watching opportunity pass by have shaped their dreams to match what they think is possible. To them, the arts lead only to struggle and economic disparities. Recently, I started a summer economics class. At first, I was just going through the motions. During the first week, I opened the PowerPoint to study for a test. Slide five: “Opportunity Cost.” The phrase meant nothing, until it did. Opportunity cost: the loss of potential gain from other alternatives when one is chosen. Opportunity cost: the current that sunk passions and built false dreams. Opportunity cost: you have nothing on me. One day, I will set my world free. When I leave high school, I hope to find my impact in the world of economics—to understand how opportunity is distributed, and how to change that. I want to build systems that allow children to chase dreams that align with their passions, not just society’s expectations. I remember asking a little girl once if she played the violin. All bright and doe-eyed, she looked up and said, “I want to be rich and play the violin forever.” She’ll never know how badly I want that for her too. To have a choice, and to be content in the life it brings. So as I continue to be pushed toward my destination, I will spend my time learning and watching. As robotics marketing strategist, and OneGoal and orchestra vice president, I will keep working to understand the needs of my community. But as a girl with a dream, I will become the economist who never lets the water deter anyone with their sights set on the far seas—ensuring that children like her never have to choose between passion and prosperity.