At fifteen years old, I joined a learn to skate program. For a while, I was surrounded by little kids in puffy, colorful coats and snowpants, falling over like bowling pins and sliding away like penguins. When I advanced to figure skating, I was surrounded by talented young girls. As I glanced around, my eyes fell on an older girl with long dark hair and fair skin. She whipped around in a Biellmann spin and exited with a pivot, gliding backward—her body controlled, her movements balletic. I was enraptured by how she used her instrument, and by the art of it at its core. Watching skaters express themselves through tightly constrained movement, I began to question how authorship could exist in a field as rule-bound as engineering. Through constructing machine learning models and a healthcare device, I explored computer science and technology in depth through projects with breadboards and programming. I wondered how I could showcase individuality while retaining what makes computer science human. As in figure skating, I wanted my work to feel intentional and personal, not just impressive. My app, Milieu Mentor, became the integration of identity and AI technology. For years, I felt competent but invisible to my peers in school. I turned to AI for explanations, ideas, and advice, and I hoped my app would be a tool to help students both academically and emotionally. But eventually, I hit a roadblock. Oftentimes, my programming produced more errors than results. I had been so focused on my work being correct and functional that I had assumed professional projects would be the same—concrete and objective. I built a functional academic app, but functionality alone felt insufficient. I wanted students to feel seen; I wanted my app to reflect care as much as it reflected logic. When I was planning Milieu Mentor, I knew I wanted it to feel like a source of companionship. Using an API endpoint from OpenAI, I gave my app a mentor—users could now talk to a “friend!” But I wanted to give it more vitality. On the home page, my phone screen displayed monotonous black-and-white widgets and an AI chatbot option. I thought, adding “too much of myself” might be facetious. Instead, I persisted. I gave my app a pastel purple hue; sprinkled with bright star and moon stickers for every button, and a pixelated star-and-moon figure as a background—a pixel kawaii space theme. Just as skating taught me to work within constraint, building Milieu Mentor opened my mind and allowed me to decide whether I would hide behind functionality or leave a trace of myself. This design became my authorship—the way choreography in skating can be traced to a choreographer and coach, and how figure skaters reveal pieces of themselves to the world when they perform. This app was not just adorable; it was more engaging, more human. Figure skating and engineering taught me that hiding behind correctness is safer, but authorship is what makes work meaningful. I kept building toward visions I value, even when my path was nonlinear—and that lesson has stayed with me long after I stepped off the rink. As a career-long endeavor in computer science, I want to research environmentally sustainable computation technology without being impersonal—devices that acknowledge the people and environments of those who use them and the values of the person who designed them. I hold the conviction that because systems are woven into human lives, design choices are never silent—they broadcast a computer scientist's values and shape human well-being. With Milieu Mentor, expression became evidence that engineering itself can carry identity.

"Creating Connection:" In the early days of my school’s Science Olympiad team, I noticed that many students hesitated to join–not because of a lack of interest, but because they felt unprepared or unsure if they belonged in a competitive STEM environment. My school lacked any STEM resources before the founding of Science Olympiad. I knew that bringing this club to the forefront of our school would take time, and put me in a position where I had to put myself in an uncomfortable position to advocate even when my peers may not be receptive to our club. That hesitation shaped how I chose to build and uplift our team. I focused on creating a space where students could learn without feeling the pressure of being inexperienced. By actively recruiting underclassmen, offering guidance on events, and encouraging members to take on leadership roles, I worked to make the team more accessible and supportive. Over time, participation grew, and students who initially doubted themselves became more confident contributors. This experience showed me that availability for STEM opportunities is often influenced by environment and encouragement, not only personal ability. Inclusion requires intentional effort–creating spaces where people feel both welcomed and capable. It also reinforced the importance of representation in shaping who participates and whose perspectives are included. Moving forward, I plan to continue supporting initiatives that expand access to STEM education and create pathways for more students to see themselves as active participants in technical fields. "Boldy, Unapologetically Me" For fun, I build people who don’t exist. I design AI characters with backstories, flaws, and internal logic, then drop them into storylines I’ve imagined and researched. I role-play scenes with them while listening to music, letting the narrative play out like a movie I’m simultaneously writing and watching. But what’s really addicting isn’t control over characters-it’s resistance. The best moments happen when characters act unpredictably and surprise me, forcing the story to evolve. I often center an observer-character, such as my OC-think of Lexi Howard in Euphoria (HBO)-and watch how they change the world around them, quietly shaping events rather than dominating them. I spend hours revising dialogue, restructuring scenes, or rethinking motivations, long past midnight. Many may find this hobby unconventional or odd. "Why not write long fiction instead? Why entertain AI?" For me, writing AI has been an immersive, creative, and intensely satisfying journey for me. I experiment with authorship, agency, and constraint by building worlds, then stepping back to see the limitless stories they become.

A tinkerer, a figure skater, an engineer, an individual who seeks to foster reflection and depth through creative writing–I am someone who values performance, responsibility, and growth in every endeavor. Everything I do is a reflection of how I think, of how I feel, and what a task means to me–nothing must be done with half or three-quarters of the effort when I know the impact I can make if my work is done thoughtfully and inventively. With every goal, I seek to pursue it with revolutionary intent–but I also understand the beauty in learning from experience and building on the strengths and weaknesses I already have. Throughout high school, I have challenged myself academically while also seeking out opportunities to contribute to my school and community in meaningful ways. As the founder and president of my school’s Science Olympiad team, I built a platform and safe space that created opportunities for students who may not have otherwise seen themselves in a competitive environment–let alone STEM–and encouraged them to perform their best, to embrace new knowledge, and explore what may be future career paths for them. Many students initially hesitated to join, unsure of their abilities or whether they belonged in a competitive environment. I made it a priority to create a space where curiosity and effort mattered more than prior experience. Even in times that required persistence–especially when building my club from the ground up–I learned how to help others gain confidence and discover their potential. Outside of school, I have volunteered at the Cardinal Cushing Centers Marketplace, where I assist in their stores that support individuals with intellectual disabilities. In this role, I took the initiative in helping manage and organize end-of-day sales by counting and documenting cash balances to ensure that funds were accurately recorded and returned to support programs for students and residents. For every hand-crafted novelty that is sold and the dollar amount that is given back, this experience reinforced the importance of responsibility and attention to detail. Every day I count and witness the student volunteers learn and grow, I understand more that consistent actions can have a meaningful impact on a larger community. Every dollar contributes to each added opportunity for special needs students made possible every year. I strive to approach each responsibility with intention and effort. Balancing academics, leadership, service, and personal interests, such as figure skating, has required discipline, especially during challenging times. There have been moments where I have felt stretched thin with academics, extracurriculars, and handling club activities alone, but I have learned that resilience is built through consistency–and continuing to show up and give effort, even when it is difficult. Consequently, I plan to pursue a field and path with a dream that may take decades to actualize. With my degree in computer engineering, and my goal of developing secure and sustainable computing systems regarding artificial intelligence and environmental impacts, I will create responsible and ethical technology. As technology continues to evolve, I want to contribute to building systems that people can trust, rely on, and coexist with without prejudice between technology and our planet. I dream of changing the scope of computation technology for decades to come. This scholarship would provide meaningful financial support, allowing me to focus more fully on my education and pursue opportunities such as research and hands-on projects. More importantly, it would support my ability to continue working toward my goals with the same dedication and persistence that I have carried throughout high school. I will design technology that protects and empowers, redefining the standard of engineering for generations.

Sometimes I think I have chronic bad luck. During my Interconnected Embedded Systems course, I was already behind on problem sets and struggling to keep up with overdue assignments. Still, I refused to submit anything without fully understanding it. I cared deeply about the course and about proving–to both my professor and myself–that I was capable of producing meaningful work. The week before our project symposium, we were told to form groups and begin building our embedded systems projects. I proposed an ambitious idea: an AI-powered health assistant displayed on a smartwatch screen. I knew it would be challenging, but I wanted to push myself by combining everything I had learned with my own interests in artificial intelligence. Instead of a full group, I was placed in a group of two. Both my partner and I were behind and struggling with technical issues, particularly with our watch screens. By Friday, I had finally fixed a critical component, but my partner’s system was still not working. When he left for a college visit that weekend, I realized that I would be the only one able to continue building the project. The following week, I began commuting daily to another summer program while preparing for the symposium. By Monday, it became clear that I was effectively working alone. My partner’s screen was defective, meaning he could not run or contribute to the program. The pressure began to build–not just from the workload, but from watching my peers’ projects progress far beyond mine. During office hours, I felt like my work was inferior. I started to question whether I had taken on too much or whether I simply wasn’t capable. I was exhausted–staying up late, commuting long hours–but I kept working. The project meant too much to me to give up. Then, the day before the symposium, my program stopped working. The image slideshow on the screen froze due to a finite state machine error. Fixing it would take hours I didn’t have. At the same time, I still needed to complete documentation, finalize diagrams, and help prepare our presentation. I felt completely overwhelmed, but I didn’t want my partner to feel worse about the situation by seeing my stress. So I kept going. I spent the entire day debugging–not aiming for perfection, but for something that worked. On the day of the presentation, I expected to feel defeated. Instead, I felt clarity. Our project was not as advanced as others, and it lacked some of the features I had originally envisioned. But it worked. And more importantly, I knew how much effort it had taken to get there. For the first time, I wasn’t comparing myself to others–I was proud of what I had built under difficult circumstances. Our peers and professors engaged with our project, asked questions, and recognized the work behind it. That experience changed how I approach challenges. I learned that engineering is rarely linear; progress involves failure, setbacks, and uncertainty. I also learned that perseverance is not about achieving perfection, but about continuing to move forward when the outcome is unclear. Since then, I have approached every project with the understanding that obstacles are not signs to stop, but opportunities to adapt and grow.

A tinkerer, a figure skater, an engineer, and a creative writer-I am someone who values performance, responsibility, and growth in every endeavor. I approach my goals with intention, striving to produce work that is thoughtful and meaningful, while recognizing the importance of learning from both my strengths and weaknesses. Throughout high school, I have challenged myself academically while also seeking opportunities to contribute meaningfully to my school and community. When I learned about Aserina Hill’s life, I was deeply moved by her quiet yet powerful commitment to uplifting others. Despite living on a fixed income, she gave what she could to support students and families in reaching their goals. Her story reinforced something I value deeply: even small acts of kindness can have lasting, transformative effects on people’s lives. At the Cardinal Cushing Centers Marketplace, I assist in operating thrift stores that raise funds for individuals with intellectual disabilities. Whether organizing inventory, managing transactions, or documenting balances, I understand that every item sold contributes to opportunities for students and residents. What I value most is knowing that even small contributions can bring relief and joy to someone else’s life. At Holly Hill Farm, I helped clear weeds and plant seeds-small acts that contribute to long-term growth. Through My Brother’s Keeper, I helped deliver and build furniture in the homes of families in my town, transforming empty spaces into livable environments. At Gifts to Give, I sorted clothing, toys, and food that were distributed to those in need. Each experience showed me that service is not always grand-it is built through consistent, intentional actions. Within my school, I serve on the leadership board of Active Minds, where I help organize initiatives centered around mental health and community support. We planted tulips to raise awareness, created and distributed lunch bags, assembled care packages with hygiene products, and made “Annie’s Kindness Blankets.” Through these efforts, I have seen how small acts of compassion can provide comfort and motivation for someone to keep going during difficult times. It is important to me that I make a difference in people’s lives. I believe kindness creates a cycle-when people are supported, they are more likely to grow, succeed, and give back themselves. If given the opportunity to start my own charity, I would focus on supporting single mothers and their children while also addressing mental health. I have seen how difficult it can be to provide stability without a strong support system. My own family was fortunate to have one, but many others are not. My charity would provide essential resources such as baby supplies, food, and childcare support through organized donation programs, with volunteers assembling and distributing these materials. Equally important, I would incorporate mental health support into this initiative. I have personally struggled with confidence and emotional challenges, and I understand how overwhelming it can feel to balance responsibilities while maintaining well-being. My goal would be to provide support systems that care for both physical and emotional needs. This vision is something I have already begun to explore through my development of the Milieu Mentor app, which helps students manage academic stress. Aserina Hill’s legacy reminds me that meaningful impact does not require abundance-it requires intention. Through my service and future goals, I hope to carry forward that same spirit of generosity and purpose.

Imagine a dystopian future where the American Midwest is spotted with nuclear power plants and enormous data centers amongst small towns. Not really a picture-perfect image of the American dream. Since the exponential growth of Large Language Models usage following the conclusion of the COVID-19 pandemic, giant tech companies such as Google, Microsoft, Meta, and OpenAI have rushed to adopt artificial intelligence tools. They strive to be on top of every emerging trend in technology. However, without putting a leash on giant companies, AI cannot be regulated to ensure it is being used responsibly and engineered ethically. Currently, local energy costs are being driven up where data centers are present; 1–5 million gallons of clean water are being strained from communities to use for hardware cooling, and data centers account for 2–4% of total global greenhouse gas emissions. I was fascinated with AI, but after learning about its impacts, I became impassioned by the prospect of ethical computation. When I wrote my article on AI and its Water Consumption, the summer before my senior year, I discovered that the drawbacks of AI were multifaceted, but all effects and research intersected at the conclusion that there was a languid approach to actually implementing regulations to halt its environmental impacts. That experience showed me how research can reveal hidden consequences of innovation and inspired me to pursue solutions that combine engineering and advocacy. I began to seek to not only push for cleaner energy through nuclear power, but also to explore on a deeper level how to ensure that communities are not suffering the consequences of data centers, in terms of financial burdens, local resources, and residents’ livelihoods. But as companies started pushing for nuclear power in a scramble to lower energy costs, I realized quickly that while this idea sounded practical, it is evidently not sustainable. Building nuclear power plants near any form of municipality may bring danger to residents. In a lifelong pursuit, I want to research and engineer sustainable methods of incorporating nuclear energy to power data centers. Robin Irving’s commitment to guiding students–especially young women–into fields where they could make a lasting impact reinforces my belief that innovation must be paired with responsibility and awareness of who it affects. I value interdisciplinary pursuits, and I recognize that groundbreaking research and engineering would not be beneficial unless there is a deliberate and meaningful impact that comes with it. I seek to advocate strongly for the lawful implementation of regulations on artificial intelligence and computational data centers. I began to think that representation was necessary beyond a government level, within engineering, to endorse environmental protection from technology. In the years to come, I see myself among a congressional committee advocating for my initiative and pushing back against irresponsible technology companies. Like Robin Irving, who served as both an educator and a role model, I hope to contribute not only through my work, but also by encouraging others–especially young women–to see themselves in fields where they can lead and innovate. Technology should not become a negative aspect in our society and on our planet. With my interest in research, science, and my passion for advocacy, I will fight for the legislative implementation of regulations on artificial intelligence and computational data centers. I will design technology that protects and empowers, redefining the standard of engineering for generations. In doing so, I hope to carry forward the kind of impact Robin Irving made–using knowledge, dedication, and purpose to uplift others and create meaningful change.

A tinkerer, a figure skater, an engineer, and a creative writer–I am someone who values performance, responsibility, and growth in every endeavor. I approach my goals with intention, striving to produce work that is thoughtful, inventive, and meaningful. I recognize the importance of learning from experience and building on both my strengths and weaknesses. Throughout high school, I have challenged myself academically while also seeking opportunities to contribute meaningfully to my school and community. When I read about John Woolley’s life, I was drawn to his deep appreciation for exploration, nature, and purposeful living. His curiosity and commitment to experiencing the world resonated with me, particularly his ability to find meaning in both adventure and quiet observation. Like John, I find myself most grounded when I am immersed in the natural world–but I also draw my inspiration from the outside and develop my experiences into creative writing–using artificial intelligence as a creative tool by developing systems that support reflective writing and human expression In the gorges of Vermont and along the volcanic cliffs of Cape Verde, I have always been drawn to the deep turquoise and blue waters of rivers and oceans. I dream of traveling to Greece, the Caribbean, and Brazil to explore marine ecosystems, to witness coral reefs and the small, brilliant life that exists beneath the surface. A picture-perfect scene, to me, is incomplete without natural bodies of water–their color, depth, and movement. In those moments, the world feels still. I am reminded of how vast and intricate life is beyond my immediate responsibilities. These experiences fuel both my curiosity and my appreciation for the natural world, much like John’s passion for capturing and preserving its beauty through photography. This sense of appreciation extends into how I engage with others. As the founder and president of my school’s Science Olympiad team, I created a space where students–especially those who did not initially see themselves in STEM–could explore, learn, and grow. Many students joined, unsure of their abilities, but I worked to foster an environment where curiosity and effort were valued over prior experience. Through this, I learned how to lead with patience and intention, helping others build confidence and discover their potential. Outside of school, I volunteer at the Cardinal Cushing Centers Marketplace, where I assist in supporting individuals with intellectual disabilities. Here, I help manage end-of-day sales by organizing and documenting cash balances. From this, I value seeing how small, consistent contributions support larger opportunities for students and residents. This experience has reinforced my understanding that impact is often built through steady, intentional effort. John Woolley’s life reflects a balance of curiosity, discipline, and appreciation for the world–values I strive to embody in my own journey. I plan to pursue a degree in computer engineering, focusing on developing environmentally sustainable and ethical computing systems, particularly in artificial intelligence. I hope to contribute to protecting and sustaining communities through technological innovation and through my personal endeavors in creative writing with technology. Where both of these hobbies have commonly had division, I have intertwined my passion for both by bringing my stories to life with artificial intelligence roleplay and conversation tools. This scholarship would provide meaningful financial support, allowing me to focus more fully on my education and pursue opportunities such as research and hands-on projects. More importantly, it would support my ability to continue growing as a student, leader, and individual who values exploration, responsibility, and impact. I hope to honor John Woolley’s legacy through the way I approach my work–with curiosity, intention, and a deep appreciation for both the world around and the people within it.

Sometimes I think I have chronic bad luck. During my Interconnected Embedded Systems course, I was already behind on problem sets and struggling to keep up with overdue assignments. Still, I refused to submit anything without fully understanding it. I cared deeply about the course and about proving–to both my professor and myself–that I was capable of producing meaningful work. The week before our project symposium, we were told to form groups and begin building our embedded systems projects. I proposed an ambitious idea: an AI-powered health assistant displayed on a smartwatch screen. I knew it would be challenging, but I wanted to push myself by combining everything I had learned with my own interests in artificial intelligence. Instead of a full group, I was placed in a group of two. Both my partner and I were behind and struggling with technical issues, particularly with our watch screens. By Friday, I had finally fixed a critical component, but my partner’s system was still not working. When he left for a college visit that weekend, I realized that I would be the only one able to continue building the project. The following week, I began commuting daily to another summer program while preparing for the symposium. By Monday, it became clear that I was effectively working alone. My partner’s screen was defective, meaning he could not run or contribute to the program. The pressure began to build–not just from the workload, but from watching my peers’ projects progress far beyond mine. During office hours, I felt like my work was inferior. I started to question whether I had taken on too much or whether I simply wasn’t capable. I was exhausted–staying up late, commuting long hours–but I kept working. The project meant too much to me to give up. Then, the day before the symposium, my program stopped working. The image slideshow on the screen froze due to a finite state machine error. Fixing it would take hours I didn’t have. At the same time, I still needed to complete documentation, finalize diagrams, and help prepare our presentation. I felt completely overwhelmed, but I didn’t want my partner to feel worse about the situation by seeing my stress. So I kept going. I spent the entire day debugging–not aiming for perfection, but for something that worked. On the day of the presentation, I expected to feel defeated. Instead, I felt clarity. Our project was not as advanced as others, and it lacked some of the features I had originally envisioned. But it worked. And more importantly, I knew how much effort it had taken to get there. For the first time, I wasn’t comparing myself to others–I was proud of what I had built under difficult circumstances. Our peers and professors engaged with our project, asked questions, and recognized the work behind it. That experience changed how I approach challenges. I learned that engineering is rarely linear; progress involves failure, setbacks, and uncertainty. I also learned that perseverance is not about achieving perfection, but about continuing to move forward when the outcome is unclear. Since then, I have approached every project with the understanding that obstacles are not signs to stop, but opportunities to adapt and grow.

A tinkerer, a figure skater, an engineer, an individual who seeks to foster reflection through creative writing–I am someone who values performance, responsibility, and growth in every endeavor. Everything I do is a reflection of how I think and what a task means to me–nothing must be done with half effort when I know the impact I can make if my work is done thoughtfully. With every goal, I seek to pursue it with intent while also learning from experience and building on my strengths and weaknesses. Throughout high school, I have challenged myself academically while also seeking out opportunities to contribute to my school and community in meaningful ways. When I read Kalia’s memorial biography, I find that I relate to her personally. As a determined and motivated student and woman of color, she reflects who I strive to be. I deeply respect the values her life represents–work ethic, kindness, ambition, and the ability to uplift others–qualities I strive to embody in both my goals and how I support those around me. As the founder and president of my school’s Science Olympiad team, I built a platform that created opportunities for students who may not have otherwise seen themselves in a competitive environment–let alone STEM–and encouraged them to explore new knowledge and potential career paths. Many students initially hesitated to join, unsure of their abilities or whether they belonged. I made it a priority to create a space where curiosity, diversity, and effort mattered more than prior experience. Kalia led a group focused on uplifting Black identity, fostering community, and promoting racial justice. I carry her mission with me when I lead my team. Even in times that required persistence–especially when building my club from the ground up–I learned how to help others gain confidence and discover their potential. Outside of school, I have volunteered at the Cardinal Cushing Centers Marketplace, where I assist in stores that support individuals with intellectual disabilities. I took initiative in managing end-of-day sales by counting and documenting cash balances to ensure that funds were accurately recorded and returned to support programs for students and residents. For every hand-crafted novelty that is sold and the dollar amount that is given back, I learned the importance of responsibility and attention to detail, while showing me how consistent actions can have a meaningful impact on a larger community. I was moved by Kalia’s story–how a woman so young, full of life and potential, is so inspiring. Even in her passing, she is a pioneer for young women like myself to have enthusiasm and fervor in every endeavor within my professional career. Balancing academics, leadership, service, and personal interests such as figure skating, has required discipline, especially during challenging times. There have been moments where I have felt stretched thin, but I have learned that resilience is built through consistency–and continuing to show up even when it is difficult. I plan to pursue a degree in computer engineering, with an interest in developing sustainable computing systems regarding artificial intelligence and environmental impacts. As technology continues to evolve, I will contribute to building systems that people can trust, rely on, and coexist with without prejudice between technology and our planet. Kalia’s story is inspiring, heartbreaking, and empowering. This scholarship would provide meaningful financial support, allowing me to focus on my education and pursue opportunities such as research and hands-on projects. More importantly, it would support my ability to continue working toward my goals with dedication and persistence. I hope to honor Kalia’s legacy through the way I support others and approach every opportunity with effort, creativity, and compassion.

I did not begin high school knowing how to navigate my opportunities–I had to learn how to forage them. Early on, I was unaware of the pathways that many of my online peers seemed to already understand: how to join competitive clubs, pursue advanced coursework, or seek out academic opportunities beyond the classroom. All I remember was going through the motions in my first two years of high school; not a single day was different from the last. For a while, that lack of direction made me feel empty, isolated, and aimless. When I realized that there was more to life and more for myself to offer to the world, it depressed me and made me regret much of my high school experience. At the same time, I was frustrated, driven, and impassioned in changing how I approached my education–because even when I felt inferior to students with more resources than I, who had groundbreaking achievements, I felt a spark, a flicker in me that I had that capability to change the world also, starting at my school. At the beginning of junior year, I decided to fight against my trepidation. I began asking questions, seeking out resources, and taking initiative in ways I had not before. Over time, I not only found opportunities for myself, but also recognized how many other underclassmen were in the same position I had once been–interested, but unsure of where to start. That realization led me to found my school’s Science Olympiad team. I wanted to create a space where students did not need prior experience to participate, only curiosity and a willingness to learn. As I built the team, I focused on making it accessible, encouraging underclassmen to join, and supporting members as they developed confidence in their abilities. What started as my effort to catch up became an opportunity to help others move forward. Through this experience, I learned that resilience is about overcoming obstacles for yourself, but also about using what you learn to support others. By turning my initial uncertainty into action, I was able to create something that continues to grow beyond me. Students who once hesitated to join now take on leadership roles, compete in events, and mentor others in the same way upperclassmen I had looked up to supported me. I hope my journey can inspire others who feel like they are starting behind or navigating without a clear path. Not knowing where to begin does not mean you are incapable–it simply means you have the opportunity to build something new. Resilience, to me, is not about having the perfect starting point, but about choosing to move forward anyway and creating opportunities not just for yourself, but for those who come after you.

Imagine a dystopian future where the American Midwest is spotted with nuclear power plants and enormous data centers amongst small country towns. Not really a picture-perfect image of the American dream. Since the exponential growth of Large Language Models usage, giant tech companies such as Google, Microsoft, and Meta have rushed to adopt Artificial Intelligence tools. However, without putting a leash on giant companies, AI cannot be regulated to ensure it's being used responsibly and engineered ethically. Local energy costs are being driven up where data centers are present; 1-5 million gallons of clean water are being strained from communities to use for hardware cooling and data centers account for 2-4% of total global greenhouse gas emissions. As a result of this push for AI integration quotas, I was impassioned with the prospect of ethical computation. Recently, companies have pushed for cleaner, ethical computation through nuclear energy; however, this is a provisional method to cover high energy costs. I was infuriated at the lack of consideration of Midwest communities impacted by data centers, and I believed that affected populations needed individuals in technology to fight for them. To ensure that communities are not suffering the consequences of data centers, I wish to dedicate my career to alleviate financial burdens, the over-consumption of local resources, and the livelihood of those residing in areas of data centers. I want to engineer long-term, sustainable methods of incorporating nuclear energy to power data centers. When I wrote my article on AI and its Water Consumption, I discovered that the drawbacks of AI were multi-faceted, but all effects intersected at the conclusion that there was a languid approach to actually implementing regulations to halt its environmental impacts. I began to think that representation was necessary beyond a government level, to be within engineering as well, to protect people from technology. Research revealed to me the hidden consequences of innovation and inspired me to pursue solutions that combine engineering, business, and advocacy. I recognize that groundbreaking research and engineering would not be beneficial unless there's a deliberate and meaningful impact that comes with it. As much as nuclear power plants next to a data center sounds practical, it is evidently not sustainable. Nuclear power has developed to be a fallback method companies have used to produce electricity at cheaper cost. Being a part of the African American community, I understand that despite legislative pushes for increased opportunities–historically, what is described on paper has failed to come to fruition in black communities and maintain impact. Similarly, I have lacked academic and opportunistic support in pursuing STEM entrepreneurship, just as data centers are expected to continue to harm communities despite cleaner energy initiatives. This frustrated me because I have a dream, drive, and potential that needed encouragement throughout high school. I learned that systems are not inherently fair, that is why I want to design them differently. I seek to not only push for cleaner energy through nuclear power, but also to start a company that engineers and distributes environmentally sustainable computation technology. I value interdisciplinary paths for my career, and this company will be a pursuit of mine throughout and beyond college. With my interest in entrepreneurship, policy, and advocacy, I will fight for the legislative implementation of regulations on AI and data centers. In the future, I see myself among a congressional committee advocating for my engineering entrepreneurship initiative and pushing back against irresponsible technology companies. With my business that engineers and distributes sustainable computation technology, I will become a pioneer of responsible technology and alter the course of artificial intelligence engineering for years to come.