There’s a particular frustration I feel whenever I look at something complex, like a TV, a car, or even the hidden wiring of overhead lighting. And I can never imagine what the very first step of building it could’ve been. Someone who is just as human and just as capable as me created these things. And I can’t stop asking: how? But the passion didn’t fully hit until I had to live it. Two years ago, I moved from Egypt to Texas on my own to pursue engineering in a place that could challenge me and help me grow. I got a job, found an apartment, and bought a car. I was on my own completely. And that’s when the meaning of engineering became personal. When the AC broke on a scorching hot Sunday, or my sink clogged at midnight, or my car refused to start before work, I felt helpless. There was no one to call, no backup plan. That’s when I started to realize how much of our lives depend on people who know how things work. The handymen, the mechanics, the engineers. The people we take for granted until we desperately need them. One experience, in particular, still plays vividly in my mind: I was on my way to pick up my mother from the airport when my car broke down mid-drive. I was stranded on the side of the road for hours. No one stopped to help. My mom, after a 30-hour trip, had to Uber to me with her luggage in tow. I stared at the hood of my car, unable to do anything but mentally scream. That helplessness, strangely enough, was also a moment of clarity. This is why I’m doing this. I want to be someone who can not only help myself but help others in their moments of need. My hands-on journey began at Dallas College through a mini-internship program with Jacobs Engineering. That was my first taste of real-world application: I learned how to use AutoCAD, SketchUp, and I created a project that would later be accepted into NASA’s T2U program. Our proposal integrated NASA technologies into an urban smart park concept, and now I’m proudly continuing that work, and preparing to present it at the Aggie Invent competition. This fall, I’ll be co-enrolled in Dallas College and Texas A&M through their Engineering Academy. I’ve also taken initiative to launch Dallas College’s first-ever Formula SAE team, a leap of faith that I hope will one day lead to my dream of building race car engines for Formula 1 and NASCAR. As a Muslim Arab woman in engineering, I often find myself the only one who looks like me in the room. It’s empowering but also heavy. I know how much I have to offer, and I’ve learned that in this field, actions speak louder than assumptions.

My entire life, I considered myself a person who would not crack in the face of hardship. A person who is independent and capable of handling the harsh realities of life. But it was foolish of me to think so when I’ve spent all my days living in a bubble. I was living under my parents’ roof, going to school, and then going to swim practice every single day. The toughest things I had to worry about were getting good grades and doing well in my swim meets. What a sweet and easy life. How ignorant was I to conclude that I was independent and resilient when I had never gone through anything to shape me that way? To be honest, I envy the bliss of my foolishness that I used to live in. Because now, I have gone through hardships in less than a year that I never thought I could endure. A person from Egypt taking the step to study in the United States is such a rare and unique occasion for several reasons. One, with our currency being almost worthless, everything is incredibly expensive. One could buy a huge house at the cost of one academic year at a university. Two, the flight tickets alone could cause a dent in someone’s bank account. Not to mention that travel time could go up to 48 hours, a very tiring process. Three, it’s commonly said that people who go to study in the U.S. are living in their own world because there’s an 8-hour time difference. Keeping up with family becomes a huge challenge. So in a nutshell, according to my folks, leaving Egypt to study in the United States is one hell of an obstacle. However, I did not care. I decided to beat the odds because studying in the U.S. was a vision I was adamant about making a reality. I started by applying for scholarships, but anything I received did not contribute much to easing the financial burden. I gave up on my dream and decided that maybe it was best to stay in Egypt. Until one day, I came across a video on TikTok that explained how some people save money by going to a community college for the first two years and then transferring to a university in order to graduate debt-free. I immediately looked into it and pitched the idea to my dad. Off the bat, his response was no. It would still be financially difficult, and for him, the stigma around community colleges couldn’t be ignored. I spent months trying to convince him to let go of the narrow-minded stereotype, and I worked over the summer to help raise my tuition. Finally, he agreed. As a Mechanical Engineering major and an active member of my community at Dallas College, I aspire to make a difference for the people around me with the work that I do, no matter what that work looks like. My passion for my degree runs deep, with math being my favorite subject ever since I can remember. My obstacles have immensely broadened my perspectives, and now I want to be a positive contribution to our world more than ever. From a young age, I was captivated by the mechanics behind everyday objects. This curiosity evolved into a commitment to engineering as a means of creating innovative solutions. Despite constantly being told back-handed compliments that usually imply that as a woman I will never be good enough in my field, and will eventually settle as a stay-at-home mom when I give birth, I never let it affect me. I have already proven to myself that I am more resilient and capable than I thought, and I desire to channel my abilities into helping others. Whether it's innovatively playing a part in AI and sustainability, or even passing down my knowledge to others, I want to be a person that lifts the burdens of others. Pessimism has never been my thing. I always try to look at the glass half full, but keeping up with that perspective has definitely been a challenge. In a few months, life has taught me lessons that I haven’t learned during my 18 years of living. My first obstacle was leaving my home, my friends, and my environment. I let go of the only constant in my life and the only life I ever grew to know. Change was something I was not used to, but was forced to adapt to. I also had to deal with the world of financial difficulties. Back home, I only asked for money whenever I needed it, but I never had to actually think about or deal with its struggles. In a way, I’m grateful that life threw all of these trials in my face because now I feel stronger than I’ve ever been before. I might not be living in the bliss of ignorance anymore, but now I can confidently say that I am resilient. That I will fight for whatever I want because I believe I can handle the challenges that come with it. And my academic journey is the perfect example of this. I’m determined to find a way. If I cannot find one, I will pave one for myself because I did not come this far just to come this far.

Roots. They're embedded in us—the beginning of our story. People often tell you to always hold onto your roots and never forget where you come from, a very important moral. Yet there's a fine line between embracing your heritage and being trapped inside of it. In my culture, everyone passes that line. I was living in a world where you're expected to live under your parents' roof, finish your education, and get married, all within the same country's borders. Choosing to study abroad is considered emotional and financial suicide because, with the currency differences, everything is 10 times more expensive abroad, not to mention the time differences that make you feel like you're living on another planet. But these were obstacles I was willing to jump over because let's face it: As cliché as the American Dream might be, there will always be truth to it. The opportunities in the United States could never compare to the ones in Egypt, where I come from. And so, I decided to chase my dream. It's safe to say that it was a painful journey. After not being able to score a good scholarship, I took the route of attending a community college-a stepping stone that I am grateful for. I have a rocky road ahead of me but I'm learning something new every day. In less than a year, I had to endure the struggles of giving up on meals some days to save up for my tuition. I learned the ugly truth about the bittersweetness of people around me because everyone is not always who they seem to be. I learned that independence can ironically make you feel weak at times when all you want to do is crawl back to your childhood bedroom and release the responsibilities you're constantly carrying on your back. But these hardships are exactly what made me stronger. As a Mechanical Engineering major and an active member of my community at Dallas College, I aspire to make a difference for the people around me with the work that I do, no matter what that work looks like. My passion for pursuing my degree is the fuel for my dream of one day positively contributing to the world of Artificial Intelligence by lifting burdens off people's shoulders. I want my story to end with my roots turning into wings. I want to turn what was once an entrapment into an inspiration for my own people that will drive them to create their own wings. It hurts at times thinking that the only barrier between me and the manifestation of my dreams is a financial one. This funding will allow me to fully focus on my work without waking up everyday with the fear that I won’t be able to afford my tuition or my rent. It’s thoughts like these that sometimes hold me back, especially when I am my only source of income. Nonetheless, I will always be determined to find a way because I did not come this far just to come this far.

Loathing. Aversion. Disgust. Boredom. We all have to experience intense dispassion to finally figure out what truly fuels our ambition. And my journey to that discovery was nothing but long. From trying out different sports to taking art and piano classes, I was doing cartwheels through different activities, hoping to come across something that lights a fire inside me. One question I needed to consider was: How long am I willing to go for my passion? Passion is not the same as love. I love watermelons, but I would not jump through hoops for them. So, what drives me to do so? Eventually, I discovered that my passion revolves around numbers. Math. Equations. Riddles. I could happily spend hours trying to solve mind puzzles. So, the ride to my dream began, and it has been bumpy... My name is Malak and I have lived in Egypt my entire life. For as long as I can remember, I was a proud victim of the American Dream, wanting to continue my education in the land of opportunities. After not getting a significant scholarship that could relieve the immense burden of the currency difference, I had to take a detour and go to Dallas College - a community college - as a stepping stone. This unlocked an amazing opportunity for me to further nurture my passions and also discover new ones. As a Mechanical Engineering major, my time attending classes and doing homework is spent recognizing how much of a perfect fit the major is for me because I can see myself doing everything I'm learning for a living and never getting tired of it. With a less intense academic load, I had the chance to explore extracurriculars and I uncovered my love for community work. I found myself loving being a person others can rely on. As Senator at Large for Community of my campus' Student Government, Vice Chair of the International Student Community, Editor-in-Chief of the Richland Chronicle, and President of the Texas Junior Collegiate Student Government Association, I created a new vision for my future. I want to use my skills and passions to positively impact others. Whether it's contributing to the world of AI, making the lives of others easier, or being a voice for those who can't use their own, I plan on leaving a mark on people. My academic dreams still extend to transferring to MIT, Stanford, or Harvard, and I truly believe I can make my dreams come true.

"Checkmate. You lose." I've always found chess to be a fascinating game. One that I never bothered to learn because I always thought it was only for the genius mind. Of course, that's a very confining construct I built for myself, and the Netflix limited series "The Queen's Gambit" did not help with that. To be completely honest, drama isn't really a genre that usually captivates me. I will always unapologetically be a die-hard fan of Rom-Coms. But something about Anya Taylor-Joy's performance and the series' storyline made this series unforgettable. Let me tell you why. Beth Harmon, played by Taylor-Joy, grows up in an orphanage after her mother dies in a car accident. After a coincidental encounter with the janitor, Mr. Shaibel, he teaches her how to play chess, making her discover an impressive natural talent she has for the game. She then makes it her mission to successfully sneak off to the basement every day to feed her desire to play a game of chess, and that ultimately sharpens her God-given skills even more. Here's where it gets interesting. The orphanage distributes tranquilizer pills to the children. Beth becomes addicted to them and uses them to visualize different scenarios of the game on the ceiling before she goes to bed every night. Now, let's stop here for a minute. Ignoring the fact that this is the start of a very brutal life-long addiction, can we talk about how awesome of an origin story this is? The first episode alone gave me goosebumps through and through. It's almost like she's a chess superhero who developed powers that allow her to foresee her opponent's moves. I know it's crude of me to label her ill struggles as fictitious abilities, but I can't help it. Watching the scenes would make you understand. Anyway, let's percede. Beth gets adopted and begins to participate in local chess tournaments. She starts defeating top players and gaining recognition - the emergence of her inspirational journey. Slowly, she climbs the ladder and moves on to compete in international chess tournaments. And guess what? Almost all of the best chess players she competes against are men. Let's talk about female-empowerment! This show is set in the Cold War era, making Beth's ability to overcome the challenges she faced in a male-dominated sport all the more admirable. And now, the series finale. The World Chess Championship in Moscow. Beth is set to play against the reigning champion, Vasily Borgov. This girl is made of genius, but can she really defeat the undefeatable? One thing we need to keep in mind is that poor Beth is still intensely struggling with her substance addiction. She has personal demons that are consuming her from the inside out. How could she ever be in a fit condition to play? Nonetheless, she makes it to the match, and tick-tock, the game begins. The winner? Drumroll, please... Nope. I will not be revealing that. Every second of the series is worth watching, so if I have you on the edge of your seat, wanting to find out who won, give it a watch! From obsession and addiction to resilience and feminism, this show portrays numerous real-life topics in a very stimulating manner. It left a mark on me and I hope it will leave one on you too.

Roots. They're embedded in us—the beginning of our story. People often tell you to always hold onto your roots and never forget where you come from, a very important moral. Yet there's a fine line between embracing your heritage and being trapped inside of it. In my culture, everyone passes that line. I was living in a world where you're expected to live under your parents' roof, finish your education, and get married, all within the same country's borders. Choosing to study abroad is considered emotional and financial suicide because, with the currency differences, everything is 10 times more expensive abroad, not to mention the time differences that make you feel like you're living on another planet. But these were obstacles I was willing to jump over because let's face it: As cliché as the American Dream might be, there will always be truth to it. The opportunities in the United States could never compare to the ones in Egypt, where I come from. And so, I decided to chase my dream. It's safe to say that it was a painful journey. After not being able to score a good scholarship, I took the route of attending a community college-a stepping stone that I am grateful for. One setback didn't stop me and I'm still as determined as ever to reach that finish line. I have a rocky road ahead of me but I'm learning something new everyday. In less than a year, I had to endure the struggles of giving up on meals some days to save up for my tuition. I learned the ugly truth about the bittersweetness of people around me because everyone is not always who they seem to be. I learned that independence can ironically make you feel weak at times when all you want to do is crawl back to your childhood bedroom and release the responsibilities you're constantly carrying on your back. But these hardships are exactly what made me stronger. Two people that I should give immense credit to are my parents. Despite being heavily clouded by our cultural beliefs, they didn't let their own preferences chain me to stop me from writing my own narrative. They didn't have much to offer, financially, and yet they still supported me in whatever I wanted to do because they believed in my potential. Their confidence in me inspired me to have confidence in myself. It's their voice in my head that makes me want to get out of bed every day and make them proud because, without their unconditional support, I would have never truly had the faith in myself that I needed to pull my socks up and walk the road to the end of my dream. As a Mechanical Engineering major and an active member of my community at Dallas College, I aspire to make a difference for the people around me with the work that I do, no matter what that work looks like. And I've already started small. As senator at large for community of my campus' Student Government, vice chair of the International Student Committee, president of the Muslim Student Association, and president of the Texas Junior Collegiate Student Government Association, I want to impact the people I work with and the people I work for. I want to be a voice for those who can't speak up for themselves. I want my story to end with my roots turning into wings. I want to turn what was once an entrapment into an inspiration for my own people that will drive them to create their own wings.