With my nose nearly pressed to the TV, I marveled at another documentary from National Geographic. Then an episode from Outrageous Acts of Science. Then a film from the Discovery Channel, then another Mythbusters installment. My small mouth hung open and my eyes glowed wide. As a kid, I was a science addict. My eagerness for the subject never faded. In high school, my AP Biology teacher's passion and enthusiasm were contagious. She urged me to pursue a biology degree. At the time, I contemplated medicine or research, and since studying biology would prepare me for both, it seemed an obvious choice. I spent this past summer at my university doing research. More specifically, I studied interactions between proteins bound to mRNA. The experience enlightened me and put my skills from lab classes to use, but it just wasn't for me. I spent nearly every day in the lab. I worked at the bench, did some pipetting, and then sat in the office while I waited for my experiment. Again and again. Day after day. Every other Saturday, I broke the monotony of lab life by volunteering at a free clinic. I sped about helping wherever I could and worked with a team of undergraduate volunteers, medical students, and physicians. Groups of undergrads and med students shuttled patients to their rooms. Med students requested labs for their patients. Undergrads translated for our Spanish-speaking guests. Every clinic was hectic and I absolutely loved it. I felt fulfilled and satisfied knowing that I helped provided care and support to people who needed it, especially those in underserved communities. I decided that medicine was the right path for me. I am still exploring specialties, but I have some ideas. I shadowed a neurologist in high school and I'm intrigued by our body's most complex and vital organ. The fact that you can convince yourself that you're experiencing symptoms (like extreme pain) that you actually aren't is fascinating - this was an actual patient! - and it's all because of our brains. I'm also considering family/internal medicine because having a holistic and comprehensive approach to health is crucial. It's also a lot of what I see in the clinic. To gain more experience and insight into these fields, I plan to do more hands-on hospital volunteering next year or next summer. I hope to shadow some doctors and observe how they work in different settings and situations, like in a clinic versus a hospital. I want to learn from those who've "been there, done that," and ask them questions about their career choices and challenges so I can make an informed decision about my future. Medicine is a noble and rewarding profession that allows me to combine my passion for science with my desire to interact with different people. It's a long and lonely path, but that's why I'm dedicated to educating myself and experiencing a doctor's life. Maybe I'll pursue an entirely different specialty - it's all part of the learning process.

I've always believed that mental health wasn't a concern, at least for me. It happened to other people on social media. It happened to my friends. But it wasn't something that happened to me. It was so foreign. I go to a college with a quarter system, and anyone with that experience will tell you it's fast. We have a three-week break for Christmas (yay!) but after that, it's a whole marathon. The winter, spring, and summer quarters are separated by a one-week break each. Toward the end of winter and throughout spring quarter, I was so tired. No matter how much sleep I got, I couldn't shake this ever-present brain fog. I didn't feel like this at the beginning of the year. What happened? Was I stressed? Was I not eating well enough? What was happening? One day in the summer I swung by to visit my old professor. During our chat, he told me, "The number one piece of advice I have for you is, don't burn out." Burn out? But that couldn't happen to me, right? Symptoms: physically exhausted. Mentally exhausted. Lack of focus. Lack of motivation. Hobbies weren't fun. Short fuse. I was, in fact, insanely burnt out. I didn't really talk to my friends - I didn't feel like I could be a good person to them because of how irritable I was. I avoided talking to people in general because my social battery burned low. Every week I just ran toward the weekend instead of finding time to breathe and enjoy life. I've started being kinder to myself. I'm taking physics, organic chemistry, and biology next quarter plus volunteering and mentoring. I'd love to work in a lab too but there's a slim chance I will. And that's fine! It's okay to know your limits instead of constantly pushing them. Yes, college is for working hard, but it's also for living, and part of living is learning to relax. As my supervisor says, "You can't give your 100% if you're not at 100%." That includes your studies, the most important thing about college! I occasionally journal when my feelings get too much to handle or I'm too stressed. I draw and play some music to relax. Sometimes I stare out the window and let my brain go into overdrive and get out all the thoughts it wants to. I'm still learning to let myself breathe instead of slotting in more activities when I find myself relaxing. But day by day, I'm getting better, and sometimes all you can do is take it day by day.

As a Gen Z college student, I think that the general consensus is that we are doomed. A sense of hopelessness hovers over us when we see the news of the atmosphere hitting record high temperatures; Korean companies selling industrial rug cleaners to households and getting thousands of babies sick and killed; people attacking Asian grandpas on their neighborhood walks; friends and siblings struggling with mental health. It seems like there is nothing but wrong in the world and nothing right to fix it. Yet our parents just tell us, "That's the way things are. Get over it." An Instagram reel I saw recently made a funny point: older generations see napping as a sign of laziness. Millennials see naps as a necessary reprive from the hustle of the world. Gen Z see the outside world as an "interruption of their naps." Because we want to escape. Because in a world of social media, a world where we are overly interconnected, a world where everything is on broadcast for everyone to see, it all gets too much. Too much negativity, too much evil, and never enough good. We'll be cleaning up what an older America left behind - global warming; issues of racism, mysoginy, bigotry; ever-increasing costs of living. I wouldn't say we "accepted many burdens gracefully." We didn't really accept them at all, but we don't have a choice, do we? Because this is our world now, and along with it we inherit its problems. Despite all that looms ahead, we still have dreams. We are future neurologists and EMTs; child advocacy lawyers; teachers and professors; game developers and NASA engineers; Department of Defense workers; cosmetologists and dancers. I wouldn't say we're fighters, but we haven't given up just yet. We'll continue showing too much of our lives on social media and sharing 5-second clips of people we don't even know to our friends. Despite how older generations say that we're too loud, too sensitive, and prone to sharing too much information, we'll keep doing it anyway. And maybe, despite our loud, sensitive selves, we'll start sweeping the floor and wiping down the counters. We'll start washing the dishes and clearing out the fridge. And eventually, the house that is our planet Earth will start to look a little cleaner.

@x3mbers

When I went to college orientation at University of California, Riverside a few weeks ago, I faced a complete culture shock. The only person who looked like me was... me. I grew up in an Asian neighborhood, a number of whom were Filipino or otherwise southeast Asian. When I stepped onto UCR's campus for the first day of orientation, I saw no one I could find solace in, in a place far from home. When those two days of mid-August heat came to a close, I was so thankful to go home, to a place of familiarity where I did not feel like an outcast, where there were people who saw and understood me. But this respite is temporary. I will be spending a majority of the next four years in an alien place, with no one who quite understands my background and how that background shapes my identity. Am I really going to spend all this time yearning for home, passively sitting around waiting for something to happen? At that moment, I decided to take a proactive step in my college social life (even as an extreme introvert). If I feel isolated, then there must be at least a hundred other people who feel the same way. The issue is finding each other on a huge campus. Thankfully, UCR has more than five hundred different student organizations, and I fully intend to join one -- specifically, the Asian Pacific community. Although I am an incoming freshman to the university, I plan to learn as much as I can about this club and the people in it, including Filipinos and Filipino-Americans, so I can help create a welcoming place where no one feels ashamed to talk about their own histories and backgrounds. I was a volunteer leader at the Huntington Library, Art Museums, and Botanical Gardens and my years of experience have granted me otherwise difficult-to-attain leadership and communication skills. Although my high school chapter has ended, the lessons I have learned will carry on into my college life -- and into the Asian Pacific community on campus.

Maintaining one’s overall health and well-being is the key to being a good student. After all, a poorly-maintained machine cannot function as well as one that is well-kept. Although I may not be a college student just yet, I have developed ways to keep my mind and body healthy, and I have thought about how to best take care of my nutritional health. I am the type of person who can get stressed out quite easily, whether or not that stress is apparent to other people. Over the summer, I have taken to mindfulness meditation to center myself and increase my general quality of life. Whenever I encounter a stressful or worrying situation, I find that taking just a few minutes to myself can help me look at a scenario in the most objective way possible so I can create a solution. I also journal before I sleep so I can get any pressing thoughts and worries out of my head and onto a paper. As a slight insomniac, I have noticed that this also helps me fall asleep better because I have resolved any lingering ideas from the day; before, I had endless thoughts running through my mind as soon as my head hit the pillow. Being well rested benefits my physical health as well. I used to exercise quite frequently but found that my knee would sometimes hurt as a result of it. Now, rather than pounding on my joints with high-impact exercises, I go for walks around my neighborhood, which is a welcome change of pace from my bedroom. In university, I want to go swimming in the student recreational center since the last time I went to the pool was before COVID-19. Additionally, as a second-degree black belt, I am thinking of joining our school’s Taekwondo club when I start in the fall. And, if I would rather opt for something simpler that day, I might just take a morning walk around the dorms (which is quite a large path to walk). Taking care of one’s nutritional health while in college can be quite difficult, especially given the limited choices and the cost of good, healthy food. My goal is to be more mindful of what I eat by choosing to be as healthy as possible in the school cafeteria and to avoid getting snacks from the vending machines that seem to be ubiquitous on campus and in the dorms. Since my older brother and I are attending the same college and he is now in an apartment, I might cook at his place if and when I have free time. We both dislike the food options available in our college and the university village, but we do not have many other options. Hopefully I can make one more for the two of us! Although it may be difficult to keep off freshman 15 and to not crumble under the stress of being alone in a new environment, I hope to always remember to put myself first. After all, the most important thing in my life is me.

At home, I eat extremely healthful. I eat out once a week, if even, as I am fortunate enough for my mom to stay home and cook. We eat steamed fish, brown rice, and plain vegetables (not pan-fried, no sauce) to name a few. Needless to say, that grosses out most people (which is understandable). When I went to my college orientation just last week, I was shocked at the lack of healthy food options. Pizza was almost always available and the nectarines were unwashed. The only veggies they had were either sauteed, pan-fried, or just steamed broccoli, the latter of which I actually like but eating the same greens repeatedly is not healthy either. Eating healthy is important to me because I have noticed that when I eat unhealthy foods, my body feels heavy and slow. My mind feels like it is trapped in a fog. If I do not have access to healthy foods, how will I excel in my studies? After all, my primary purpose for attending college is to get good grades and a degree. On top of that, I feel guilty when I eat too many unhealthy snacks (which I know is not the best relationship to have with food). It does keep me from overeating or snacking too much though. Even if I do overeat, if it is a healthy meal, I usually won’t feel weighed down like I do when I go to, for example, a European restaurant. I have also noticed that I am more sensitive to heavy, oily foods. I realized at some point that eating things like a pizza dripping in oil (ex. Pizza Hut) gives me a painful stomach ache, which would be unfortunate when I have class. In general, eating clean healthy foods gives me a better quality of life with a strong body and clear mind. Additionally, the fear-inducing freshman 15 is also a worry. Even if one thinks, “I can just exercise more!” the reality is that, at least in my experience, it does not matter how physically active one is if they are eating the wrong things. To prevent unhealthy weight gain, you have to eat healthily. However, as almost every college student would say, that is extremely difficult when you have limited access to good food and no time or resources to cook in college. Since my older brother and I are attending the same college and he is now in an apartment, I might cook at his place if and when I have free time. We both dislike the food options available in our college and the university village, but we do not have any other options. I hope to be as healthy as I can be in a limited situation. I only spent two days there for orientation, so I am sure that there will be better options when I begin my studies. Paired with some daily exercise, I wish to keep the freshman 15 at bay and live a life that makes both my body and my mind happy.

I hated math. In Algebra 1, my teacher was adamant that we show work – and her way. That meant writing a minus four below each side of the equation, then subtracting that four in the next line. However, creating those extra lines was putting me at risk of making mistakes. On the quiz, I didn’t. I got every single question right, but I didn’t show my work. I got a C-. I didn’t get upset at my teacher; I got upset at myself. What agitated me the most was that the fault was something within my control yet I missed it. At that point, I despised math. Fast forward to my junior year of high school. My precalculus teacher was just as strict as my algebra teacher, if not even more so. However, things had changed. In algebra, I learned to double-check and that saved my grades. Precalculus was different, difficult. Rather than just simple mathematics, there was much more critical thinking. My precalculus teacher was an extremely intelligent woman. When she demonstrated a problem for us, she would explain how A connected to B in half a sentence, then finished the entire question in the second half. She taught me how to think. Where do the ends of the polynomial go? Does this final answer make sense? These may seem like simple questions, but they formed the foundation of how I think when I do math. When AP Calculus AB came around, I had all the basic critical thinking skills I needed to succeed. The class was heavy and there were times I struggled, but I owe my final 97% to my precalculus teacher. I’m unsure when exactly my love for math began, though it was either in my junior or senior year. To quote my friends, “Math is only fun when you understand it.” However, with the basics that my precalculus teacher gave me, building on those basics has become much easier. During summer break, I’ve been on Khan Academy doing math for fun. This coming fall, I’m thinking of joining the math club at my college when I step onto campus for the first time. The idea is a bit intimidating after seeing what the math team at my high school did, but I think I can try it. After all, you never know.

In high school, I had the same history/social science teacher for two years. No one really liked him much; everyone had something to say about the way he taught, how he lectured so much, even how he placed his desks in his classroom weirdly. Personally, I thought he was one of the best history teachers I ever had. In his class, we were often given PBLs, or project-based learning assignments, where we were working on our own separate research projects. Of course, our teacher was available to help us as much as he could, so my friend/classmate asked him about the Supreme Court case she was studying. Afterward, she told me how odd our teacher was. “He said something like, ‘She was quite an attractive young lady.’ But what does that have to do with anything?” I nodded along, letting her rant her frustrations out, but inside I had a different idea. Yes, these little details mean nothing in terms of the project, but they add to the conversation in a different way. My teacher was a storyteller, and a story is not truly one unless it is filled with side details that by themselves amount to very little, but all together bring a narrative to life. That is what makes a tale enjoyable. My teacher was the second of two amazing storytellers in my life, the foremost being my mother. These two people are the reason I grew an interest in history, even though it may be outside my career intentions as a STEM major. When my college life finally begins this coming fall, I hope to take a bunch of history courses both to fulfill my breadth requirements and to satisfy my constant hunger for stories. I have always found Chinese history to be quite intriging due to its extensive timeline. Additionally, my dad watches a lot of Chinese dramas and knowing the historical context behind them can make or break the viewing experience. Hand in hand with history also comes current events and politics. Although I may be a US citizen, I want to understand events not just in my own backyard but those on a global scale that could also affect me, whether or not I am aware of such occurrences. Since new things are happening every day, keeping up with the world will become my way to continue learning, even when I am old and gray. Who knows? Maybe one day we will live through history again, just like with the pandemic and the contentious election of 2020. History is a real-life narrative, just like those scattered throughout the fiction section of the library where I spent most of my childhood. Maybe part of me reminisces about those days and has found history as both a reminder of the past and a way to learn, both about and from our ancestors.

My career goal is to go to medical school and help the elderly in our community when they are faced with health issues like strokes and Alzheimer's. As for my personal life, I want to be able to live a satisfying life for myself. This can mean different things for everyone, but I want to be happy, eat well and be healthful, and be able to share my life with someone dear.

In my junior and senior high school years, I had the same social science teacher for three subjects: AP US World History, AP Macroeconomics, and AP Government and Politics. He believed in something called PBL, or project-based learning. Rather than having students learn content, regurgitate it on a piece of paper for an exam, then forget it all the next day, he wanted us to have real-world experience. Project-based learning would remove many of the boring lectures, worksheets, and assignments that today classify traditional school. Rather than shutting pupils up in a classroom, they would be allowed to work on their individual or group projects (with the help of the teacher) to attempt to enact change in the world. In AP Government and Politics, my teacher encouraged us to complete a PBL revolving around making changes in government. "Should citizens aged 16 be able to vote in city elections?" "Should we limit the use of hobby drones flying over private property?" "Should we ban the filibuster in the Senate that prevents legislation from passing?" He urged us to imagine this nation as a better world and encouraged us to take the first step. Of course, this was not the first time he suggested this idea of a PBL. Several years ago, his students contacted the mayor of our city about creating a parklet in the center of town. The idea went through: the council and the mayor supported the proposal and the pupils were to design the parklet while the government officials worked to get them funds. Unfortunately, the mayor was forced to resign before the project could be completed, but its legacy remains and proves that there is something more effective to learning than traditional classroom teaching. Rather than sitting behind a desk with a lecturing teacher and being expected to absorb every sentence like a sponge, students (especially high school seniors) should be out and about in the world. Pupils should be learning not simply by reading or listening but by doing. The classroom breeds the next generation of rocket scientists, doctors, lawyers, and activists; it is only right that they receive the highest form of education possible. Of course, every instructor has their own idea of education. Some would firmly advocate for this modernized style of learning, while others would vehemently reproach it. However, this old model of classroom teaching simply will not sustain itself - it is too limited and shortsighted. On top of that, with the increased use of technology in our daily lives, younger generations' attention spans have nosedived. Lecturing at pupils will no longer be an effective teaching method. With new times come new ideas, ways of life, and most importantly, ways of schooling. Students are cooped up indoors enough with accessible technology. The next generation needs to get out and see the world outside of the polarized media online.

My last name in English is Tan but in Mandarin it is Chen, which has raised queries from everyone who has noticed. One time, a friend asked me to explain and I elaborated on how Chen translated into my dialect is Tan. “Pfff – what dialect is that?” She laughed me off, mocking my tongue and in the process my heritage. I felt scorned, shunned, and unseen. Racism is not just something that happens to some unfortunate person in some faraway place. Bigotry is fostered in our own backyards - the difference lies in who stands up against prejudice, who remains quiet, and who turns a blind eye. Big amendments start with small beginnings. If everyone puts that first foot forward, we will not be the sole people to reap the benefits; so will the next generation and the generation after them. We as everyday citizens should make the effort to understand people of other cultures and backgrounds, even if they are radically different from our upbringings. Teachers especially should foster feelings of inclusivity and encourage diversity rather than avoid the topic and let students internalize whatever biases they pick up from home life or classmates. Changing a stubborn mindset of an older crowd may be problematic, but we can instruct our children to be more considerate and compassionate than we were. I have experienced firsthand what it’s like to feel uncomfortable in my own home and I do not wish this on anyone. I want to create a welcoming environment for everyone, especially minorities, to feel safe in their own skin. We can be better than our prejudices; it is not difficult, but it does require each person to put in the effort.

“I might not be here next year,” my teacher said. I stared at the screen, watching her face float about in its Google Meet box. What? I thought. My school has long struggled financially and during the pandemic circumstances worsened. My teacher was at risk of being laid off. In the face of losing some of my beloved educators, I reached out to a friend: what if we got students to sign a banner thanking our teachers for their hard work? He agreed and we began immediately. It was difficult to spread word of our project; even more so to get participants. We messaged school clubs on social media (frustratingly, many never replied) and put up posters at school once campus was open for hybrid learning. Then came another problem: signing the banner. Social media is typically accessed via smartphone, so most participants were using phones. Unfortunately, our banner was a Google Drawing, which we learned is incompatible with mobile devices. So I replaced the long link with a short, memorable one for easier computer access. At its completion, our banner had our school’s logo front and center with a paper background and decorative border. Students left not just signatures, but also messages (and hearts) to their teachers. The pandemic was nightmarish for everyone, including our teachers. They had to devise new teaching methods and curriculum on short notice. Thank-yous would not lessen their burden, but we hoped it would demonstrate our gratitude for their tireless work. At the end of the year, we sent in the completed banner. The response was overwhelmingly positive. The staff expressed that they cherished our work; some thanked us during class. Although this banner could not ameliorate our financial troubles, I felt it brought some comfort and closure to a crazy and chaotic year.

I have enjoyed arts and crafts since I was young. As I grew, I found myself increasingly gravitating toward handmade jewelry. During the pandemic, everyone around me seemed deflated, listless; so was I. Time blended into one unending mass. I wanted to bring light to our dark days. I recalled how happy I was when I received a small gift. I wanted to spread that same joy. So with my creative background in crafting, I started my Etsy store. I initially assumed that running a small business would not be too difficult: put my products up and people would purchase them. I quickly learned that my assumptions were doomed from the start. Once someone orders, you must make, package, and ship the product within the week. Everything is customized. The jewelry is personalized. My handwritten notes are tailored as well. My creativity plays a part in making jewelry and in entrepreneurship. Owning a small business has taught me marketing, developing public relations, forming connections - how to talk to people and communicate my ideas. Above all, it has taught me patience and perseverance. A miracle does not happen overnight; building a reputation takes grueling effort for often little reward. When that one order comes in, the arduous creative process is rewarded. But starting wasn't an easy decision. At first my parents were against it, thinking that it would just be a waste of time, effort, and money. But I wanted to step out of my shell, to be brave enough to do something I had never done before; that no one around me had ever even thought of. I may not be the next Jeff Bezos or Bill Gates, but I'm certainly proud of how far I've gotten.

My school has long struggled financially. During the pandemic, circumstances worsened. The board notified several teachers that they may be laid off. I reached out to a friend: what if we got students to sign a banner thanking our teachers for their hard work? He agreed and we began immediately. It was difficult to spread the word about our project, even more so to get participants. We turned to social media to garner attention. Then came another problem: signing the banner. Our participants were using phones, but our banner was a Google Drawing, which we learned was incompatible with mobile devices, so I replaced the long link with a short one for easier computer access. Our completed banner had our school’s logo front and center with a paper background and border. Students left signatures and messages for their teachers. Near the end of the year, we sent the completed banner to the teachers. The response was overwhelmingly positive and they cherished our work. The pandemic was nightmarish for everyone - our educators were no exception. Thank yous would not lessen their burden, but we hoped that by demonstrating our gratitude, they would feel seen. I say all this because I want to encourage you to realize that everyone has had and is having a hard time, both with the pandemic and otherwise. A little fun fact: the word “sonder” means “the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as one’s own… despite one’s personal lack of awareness of it.” I think investing our time into being a little more forgiving and compassionate to our neighbors can be good for everyone. Kindness tends to pay back its own debt.

I began volunteering in the Huntington gardens during freshman year. I came to appreciate the Huntington for the haven it presented to a wanderer of concrete jungles - but its beauty was hidden when Covid-19 forced its gates to close. The volunteering program's sudden shift to an online format overwhelmed the staff, so they turned to the volunteers. I became a volunteer leader, helping others complete weekly activities promptly. Although I couldn't showcase the Huntington’s natural beauty, I still wanted to help the program survive the pandemic. But of course the Huntington was not the only thing that occupied my mind during this crisis. “I might not be here next year,” my teacher said. I stared at the screen, watching her face in its Google Meet box. What? I thought. My school has long struggled financially. During the pandemic, circumstances worsened and my teacher was at risk of being laid off. In the face of losing some of my favorite educators, I reached out to a friend: what if we got students to sign a banner thanking our teachers for their hard work? We began immediately. The pandemic was nightmarish for everyone - including our teachers. They had to devise new teaching methods and curriculum on short notice. Thank-yous would not lessen their burden, but we hoped it would demonstrate our gratitude for them. I want to encourage you to realize that everyone is having a hard time, both with the pandemic and otherwise. Fun fact: the word “sonder” means “the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as one’s own… despite one’s personal lack of awareness of it.” Investing our time in being a little more compassionate to our neighbors can be good for everyone. Kindness tends to pay back its own debt.

Wind whistled, squirrels skittered, birds sang. This fantastical sanctuary is a real place called the Huntington Gardens where I began volunteering in my freshman year. In my first term, I conducted children’s activities and guided lost visitors. I came to appreciate the Huntington for the safe haven it presented to a wanderer of concrete jungles - but its beauty was veiled from the world when Covid-19 forced its gates to slam shut. During the pandemic, the volunteering program shifted to an online format. The sudden change overwhelmed the staff, so they turned to the volunteers. A group of us became volunteer leaders, helping others complete weekly activities on time and develop project proposals. Although I could no longer show urbanites the Huntington’s greenery, I still wanted to help the volunteering program survive the pandemic. A slight issue: the volunteers’ proposals were based on specific parts of the gardens, but how could they develop their project when they had never been? After mulling over this frustrating problem, I finally devised a solution. I showed my volunteers my photos of the grounds from years of volunteering and communicated everything I knew. This allowed them (with my guidance) to decide what project they would create. I knew firsthand the difficulties of suddenly shifting to an online world from school, and I was eager to make my wealth of experience useful. In time, my volunteers created wonderful projects: a website on the Desert Garden, a cookbook of beverages made with Huntington herbs, a how-to video on making herb salt, and more. Although the Huntington’s gates were closed, the gardens and volunteering program had survived this global crisis. The world may still be online, but we will keep telling our stories - and through those stories, the Huntington is once again a shared space.

Wind whistled, squirrels skittered, birds sang. This fantastical sanctuary is a real place called the Huntington Gardens, where I began volunteering in my freshman year. I live in a city, and greenery is rare; I wanted to expose city dwellers to the uncommon sight of raw nature. In my first term, I conducted children’s activities and guided lost visitors. I came to appreciate the Huntington for the safe haven it presented to a wanderer of concrete jungles - but its beauty was veiled from the world when Covid-19 forced its gates to slam shut. During the pandemic, the volunteering program shifted to an online format. The sudden change overwhelmed the staff, so they turned to the volunteers. A group of us became volunteer leaders, helping others complete weekly activities on time and develop project proposals. Although I could no longer show urbanites the Huntington’s greenery, I still wanted to help the volunteering program survive the pandemic. A slight issue: the volunteers’ proposals were based on specific parts of the gardens, but how could they develop their project when they had never been? After mulling over this frustrating problem, I finally devised a solution. I showed my volunteers my photos of the grounds from years of volunteering and communicated everything I knew. This allowed them (with my guidance) to decide what project they would create. I knew firsthand the difficulties of suddenly shifting to an online world from school, and I was eager to make my wealth of experience useful. Most importantly, I still showed them the beauty of nature. In time, my volunteers created wonderful projects: a website on the Desert Garden, a cookbook of beverages made with Huntington herbs, a how-to video on making herb salt, and more. At the end of the first online term, I provided my supervisors with my volunteers’ feedback to improve future experiences. Although the Huntington’s gates were closed, the gardens and volunteering program had survived this global crisis. The world may still be online, but we will keep telling our stories - and through those stories the Huntington is once again a shared space.

Rosalind Franklin discovered the double helix stucture of DNA. Unfortunately, Watson and Crick stole her work and even placed her findings in the back of the volume they published to make it seem like she had copied them. However, despite these setbacks, she was determined to keep using x-rays to discover more about DNA and its structure. I admire Franklin not just for her ground breaking discovery that paved the way for biology and genetic engineering but also for her ambition and drive to keep pushing herself forward despite the chains of a misogynistic society.

I had always been a sensitive child, short-tempered and belligerent against anyone who even mildly teased me. As a result, I never had friends, even in my tiny school where everyone knew everyone. Sure I tried to make friends but failed every time. Eventually, I gave up. I became that one kid who went to the library every day at lunch rather than running around with my posse. So as one might expect, I didn’t know how to talk to people. I seemed stuck-up when I just didn’t know what to say. The pandemic left me more time to myself, which I spent in introspection. With clearer sight, I looked back at my past self. Being the immature child I was back then, I was insulted by anything and everything. However with my older mindset, I realized that for the most part I was wrong. I analyzed myself and figured out what went wrong and tried to remember what that was so I wouldn’t repeat my mistakes. Now I have managed to make many new friends. With their encouragement, I became more involved in school activities. I was more social: I talked to other students and even teachers. I dropped the mentality of, “things have to go my way” to meeting people halfway. I came out of the shell of the sensitive, immature child I had been living in for so long. Just two years ago I could never imagine myself now. I’m still shy, but I went from having no friends, no social skills, to having a close circle of companions and a capacity for reaching out to people. I came back from a total lockdown more social than ever. Sure, I’m still naive - I’m still a kid, but I’m growing.

Outside of STEM, I have enjoyed arts and crafts since I was young. As I grew, I found myself increasingly gravitating toward handmade jewelry. I especially loved the creative aspect of the materials. Everything I bought was either versatile or something I would finish using (ex. an entire spool of chain). During the pandemic, everyone around me seemed deflated; so was I. Time blended into one unending mass. I wanted to bring light to our dark days. I recalled how ecstatic I was when I received a small gift and wanted to spread that same joy. So, with my creative background in crafting, I started my Etsy store. Owning a small business has taught me marketing, developing public relations - how to communicate my ideas. Above all, it has taught me patience and perseverance. A miracle does not happen overnight; building a reputation takes grueling effort for often little fruit. When that one order comes in, all that toil is rewarded. Of course, patience and perseverance aren’t limited to owning a start-up; they are universal. They are traits one can carry far into the future and bring into whatever field one pursues. I may have sold only a few earrings and bracelets, but I’m proud of the work I’ve done and the skills I’ve gained. My learned endurance and motivation have guaranteed that I will succeed in any path I choose. At USC, although I plan to focus on biology, I may take an art or business course as an elective.

I had always been a sensitive child, short-tempered and belligerent against anyone who even mildly teased me, so I never had friends, even in my tiny school where everyone knew everyone. Eventually, I gave up. I became that antisocial kid who went to the library every day at lunch rather than running around with my posse. During the pandemic, I somehow regrouped with some old friends of mine. We spent our first pandemic summer playing video games together. My happiness stems from my coming out of my shell and somehow coming out of social isolation more social than ever.