My first failing grade in college came as a shock. I had triple-checked my code, tested every edge case, and even added extra features to the project. When I gathered the courage to ask my professor why, his response was clear: "You'll face tougher critics in the real world. I'm just preparing you for what's ahead." Later that week, I watched him praise a male student's project that met only the basic requirements. This wasn't just about code – it was about who belonged in his classroom and who didn't. As a queer woman and first-generation college student in tech, I quickly learned that some barriers are invisible until you crash into them. While my male classmates formed easy study groups and received gentle guidance, I faced "tough love" from professors who claimed they were pushing me harder for my own good. Every mistake was treated as confirmation of their bias, every success dismissed as not quite good enough. The academic challenges were complicated by the practical ones. With no family experience in higher education, I had to navigate the maze of college bureaucracy alone. Scholarship applications, financial aid forms, and academic requirements became a second curriculum I had to teach myself. While my classmates talked about legacy scholarships and family connections in tech companies, I spent hours scouring the internet for opportunities, learning the unspoken language of academic funding through trial and error. The isolation was crushing at first. My parents, though supportive, couldn't understand why I kept pushing against these invisible walls. When I called home during those difficult months, their solution was simple: come back home, try something easier, something closer. They meant well, but couldn't see that giving up would mean accepting every bias and barrier that stood in my way. But slowly, I learned to transform these challenges into fuel for change. Each biased grade became motivation to document my work more thoroughly. When professors claimed they were being "tough," I started recording the disparities in their treatment of different students. I learned to advocate not just for myself, but for others facing similar struggles. Today, as a Resident Assistant in the Women's Leadership Centre on campus, I use these experiences to help other women navigate the challenging landscape of tech education. We've built a community where first-generation students can find mentorship, where scholarship opportunities are shared freely, and where no one has to face these battles alone. The same system that once made me feel invisible has become the ground where I help others become visible and valued. My family now sees my persistence differently. When I share stories of helping other students find their footing or standing up to institutional bias, they understand that I'm not just earning a degree – I'm part of a necessary transformation in tech education. Every tough-love grade and financial struggle has strengthened my resolve to create change. While I may have started this journey alone, my perseverance has carved out a space where future generations of tech students can thrive, regardless of their background or identity. No amount of biased grading or institutional barriers can overshadow that truth.

The Glass Between Dedicated to my mother, who has always given me a reason to believe in myself, and my future family to whom I hope to instill the same confidence and determination Ten-year-old Maya pressed her nose against the hospital window, watching in fascination as the rehabilitation robot guided an elderly patient through their walking exercises. The robot's brushed metal frame gleamed under the fluorescent lights, its movements fluid and precise as it supported the patient's weight. "That's our newest model, the STRIDE-3," her mother explained, adjusting her lab coat. Dr. McIntosh was the hospital's lead robotics engineer, and today was Take Your Daughter to Work Day. "It helps people learn to walk again after injuries or strokes." Maya couldn't take her eyes off the scene. The robot's arms moved with impossible grace, sensors constantly adjusting its support as the patient took hesitant steps. What caught her attention most wasn't the technology – it was the patient's face. Where there had been fear at the start of the session, now there was determination, confidence, and even a hint of joy. "How does it know exactly what to do?" Maya asked, her fingers tracing the robots movements on the glass. "The robot has thousands of sensors that measure everything from pressure to muscle tension," her mother explained. "But the real magic is in its learning algorithms. Every session teaches it to be better at helping the next patient." Maya thought about her grandmother, who had suffered a fall last year and still struggled with mobility. "Could it help Nanny walk better?" Her mother smiled. "That's actually why I helped design it. I saw how hard physical therapy was for elderly patients like Nanny, how many couldn't get the consistent help they needed. These robots never get tired, never lose patience, and can work around the clock." As they watched, the patient completed their lap around the therapy room, beaming with accomplishment. The robot gently aided them back to their wheelchair, its movements as careful and supportive as any human nurse. Later that afternoon, Maya's mother took her to the robotics lab. Unlike the sterile hospital halls, this space hummed with creative energy. Half-built robots lined workbenches, and screens displayed cascading lines of code. In one corner, a technician was teaching a robotic arm to pick up eggs without breaking them. "Why don't you try programming something?" her mother asked, leading her to a testing station. Maya's eyes widened. "Can I really?" For the next hour, her mother taught her the basics of robot motion planning. Maya learned how to make a small robotic arm wave, pick up blocks, and even dance. Each successful movement filled her with pride, but she kept thinking about the therapy robot and its patient. "Mom," she said finally, looking up from the computer, "I want to build robots that help people. Not just any robots – ones that make people smile like that patient today. Is that something I could do?" Dr. McIntosh knelt beside her daughter. "That's exactly what we need more of in robotics – people who see technology not just as machines, but as tools for making lives better. It won't be easy. You'll need to study hard – mathematics, programming, engineering, even psychology to understand how people interact with robots." "I don't mind," Maya said, her chin set with determination. "I want to make a difference." Years later, when Maya presented her doctoral thesis on empathetic robotics systems, she included a photo from that day at the hospital. The image showed her younger self, face pressed against the glass, watching a robot help someone walk again. In her dedication, she wrote: "To my mother, who showed me that the future of robotics isn't about replacing human care – it's about extending it to everyone who needs it." The STRIDE-3 had long since been replaced by newer models, many of which Maya helped design. But she never forgot that first moment of inspiration, when she realized that robots could be more than just machines – they could be bridges between human limitations and human potential. With each new project, she strived to capture that same mix of technical precision and human compassion that had captured her imagination as a young girl, knowing that somewhere, another child might be watching through a window, dreaming of the robots they would build someday.

In each and every experience I have encountered in my 17 years, there is one person who has supported me in every capacity. Never in my life will I meet anybody as selfless. She continues to remind me of my worth, that my dedication and determination will allow me to do amazing things, that I can triumph over any obstacle. In a storm she is my shelter, and in the ocean she is my raft. She constantly assures that in any situation I am supported. I am so incredibly lucky to know I am unconditionally loved. She allows her actions to speak volumes over her words. I have watched her accomplish great things and stand strong to her beliefs. I have watched her juggle countless responsibilities and even on her busiest days remember I like my sandwiches cut into triangles. Her kindness and selflessness are irreplaceable, but I hope one day I get close enough. Yes, sometimes she claps and cheers extremely loud at my award ceremonies, and sometimes being forced to take a million pictures at events can become bothersome, but as I reflect back on my best memories from the last 17 years they are all those moments spent with her and I wouldn't trade them for the world. Thank you Mom for your constant encouragement and love. I have a passion for engineering, and S.T.E.M. fields are obviously encompassing of male-dominated professions. Being a woman in S.T.E.M. comes with a stigma and labels born from the presumptuous nature of human beings, yet I’m determined to shed these labels. My womanhood does not define me, but strengthens me. I am independent, a leader, an aspiring engineer, and prepared for any challenge my life may have in store for me. This scholarship will aid in me fulfilling my goals: I will be a role-model for young girls interested in S.T.E.M. fields, a leader that aids in the evolution of our society through my breakthroughs in the field of biomedical engineering, and I will continue to prove to myself that my gender is neither a set-back nor a disadvantage but rather an opportunity granted to me to continue to pave the way for future generations. I have decided nobody was going to suppress my voice or my dreams, the actions of others or their opinions may not belittle me, and that I currently have an opportunity to not only revolutionize the medical field with new technologies but also inspire millions of young girls while pursuing my passion. All I need are the resources to do so, so I hope you’ll choose to aid me in my journey.

My family wanted to send me to therapy in the third grade after they discovered I had apologized to my bullies. Peers mocking me at recess or throughout classroom discussions was commonplace. My classmates discouraged me from participating, accused me of talking too much, and suspected I was cheating because I had always known the right answers. Over the years, mockery transitioned to disrespect. Throughout my engineering classes I've been cut off, spoken over, blatantly ignored, and everything in between. I could give hundreds of accounts of my experiences being underestimated, yet my kindness remained unparalleled and I was praised by every adult figure I knew, whether it be family or faculty, regarding how I upheld myself so well. Turning to my family for solace left me empty-handed. Once I expressed to my grandmother my issues in school and dreams for the future, I was met with a single piece of advice, a phrase I can never seem to escape. “Madison, you are beautiful and very lucky. Marry a rich man and you won't have to work a day in your life.” If there was one lesson she attempted to instill in me, this was it. Growing up I never understood what she meant, why she would always tell me to marry rich instead of be rich. Her advice sent me spiraling into a confused, questioning shell of myself, wondering what about me wasn't enough. In every aspect of my life, I was being forced to lessen myself to fit the expectations of others. As I have grown older, I am disgusted with the realization that my first accounts of being labeled and dismissed for my gender were as early as eight years old. My kindness was praised which constantly reassured me that accepting the behavior I was tolerating - and responding with kindness - was proper. In hindsight, I realize I was actually being conditioned by external, systemic forces to play the part of the compliant female. My family and adult figures are not to blame, for our generational differences permit me more opportunities than they may have ever imagined for themselves; however, as we progress through generations, continuing to allow young girls to limit themselves due to out-dated perceptions founded upon the comfort zone and expectations of an old-fashioned world is inexcusable. I have learned to refuse to allow the labels thrust onto me by others to define me. My experiences do not stifle my determination but rather act as a form of motivation. I have a passion for engineering and S.T.E.M. fields, obviously encompassing of male-dominated professions. Being a woman in S.T.E.M. comes with a stigma and labels born from the presumptuous nature of human beings, yet I’m determined to shed these limiting beliefs. My womanhood does not define me but strengthens me. I am independent, a leader, an aspiring engineer, and prepared for any challenge my life may have in store for me. The amount of time it has taken me to realize my worth and potential is unfortunate, and I refuse to allow young girls to wait as long as I did to understand their limitless capabilities. I will be a role model for young girls interested in S.T.E.M. fields, a leader that aids in the evolution of our society through my breakthroughs in the field of biomedical engineering, and I will continue to prove to myself that my gender is neither a set-back nor a disadvantage, but rather an opportunity granted to me to continue to pave the way for future generations. At the age of eight, I decided nobody was going to suppress my voice or my dreams, and that I would not need a rich man to save me. I currently have an opportunity to not only revolutionize the medical field with new technologies, but also inspire millions of young girls while pursuing my passion.

Attempting to pick a single woman in STEM that I admire will take me a lifetime and feel as an injustice to the accomplishments, impact, and developments that all of the women in STEM who have come before me have made. Rather than nominate a single candidate that I admire, I rather hold an archetype in my brain, a series of characteristics that I feel define what it means to be an admirable woman in STEM. A leader, a role model, the type of woman to shatter glass ceilings and is a trailblazer for those who come after her. I admire the type of woman who lets her accomplishments speak for her but is not afraid to talk in a quiet room. I admire the type of woman who doesn’t allow herself to be interrupted among peers, but also raises other women up. The type of woman that has “Excuse me I haven’t finished speaking” in her vocabulary. She does not fear being called bossy or rude because she knows if her actions were taken by a man he would be deemed “bold, a leader, wise”. these characteristics of a woman are what I hope to achieve as I continue along my path in perusing a STEM career. my dream is to one day become a biomedical engineer, to infuse my passions of helping others, my interest in the medical field, and my love of innovation and engineering. I hope to one day to fill up and design medical technologies, to take time studying neurological and cardiac pathways and determining possible ways to improve our current medical technologies to advance the medical field. I may explore prosthetics, determining ways to make them more available and adjustable for children who continue to grow out of their necessary prosthetic devices. I am not quite sure where my degree will take me, but I am positive that I want to use it to positively influence our society in anyway I can with my innovation, research and determination. I believe if I grow to attain his admirable characteristics and stay determined on my path that nothing can stop me from continuing to shatter glass ceilings and trailblazers for the generations that follow.

Rather than a single role model, I am blessed with the opportunity to have dozens. Born in the age of technology, I have seen the rise and fall of many celebrities, activist icons, philanthropists and martyrs for movements. Rather than one specific role model, I have traits that I see in strangers demonstrated through modern technology and set myself the goal of strengthening that characteristic within myself. Citizens brave enough to protest in the Black Lives Matter movement demonstrate tremendous strength and courage which I one day hope to have and present to others. My role models are the activists of our community who are unafraid unafraid of the consequences do their actions because they are blinded by the importance and significance of the cause they are fighting for. The LGBTQ + community in the streets demanding equal rights may have feared the aggressive on slots they would have from those who disagreed with them, however they persevered because in the site they saw a future for upcoming generations and themselves where love was love. Other role models I have include content creators and influencers that use their platforms to educate youth and they're following on the significance of Human Rights issues and Global issues. The hate that these creators receives overwhelming, however the forever lasting lessons they have shown to others will never be forgotten. My final group of role models are those who are unapologetically themselves in every form, though we are still fighting from media to represent people how they truly are, with all of their imperfections, complexities, interpersonal battles and mental health difficulties, through apps such as Instagram and Tik-Tok, and more comfortable and accepting atmosphere is being created are those who don't fit the textbook definition of normal, or perfect or beautiful because we are learning that those definitions are flexible and fit everybody. I intend to pass these characteristics that I have learned and grown to understood onto others the same way that I learned that, I hope to one day unapologetically be myself, at The Bravery and the courage to speak out on every Injustice, to carry myself with pride and strength and understand my worth, and to educate others on their worth and show to them that they are powerful, smart, brave, and capable of outstanding things.