I was running on the treadmill one day, legs burning and motivation fading, when I heard instrumental music starting to build up in my AirPods. It sounded nothing like anything I was used to, and I was about to skip it when the music transformed completely. The beat picked up, the singer started yelling, and I could feel the energy from the song pulsing through me. It was a femininimenon. And it was the fastest I was ever able to run. That was my first time listening to Chappell Roan, and I immediately threw myself into her entire discography. There was something about her music that felt different. It made me feel alive. The uniqueness of her music is what originally brought me to her as an artist, and I quickly realized that this sense of individuality and empowerment that I felt in each song was a reflection of her. From the white painted onto her face to the lipstick purposefully staining her teeth, she wasn't like the usual pop stars you would hear on the radio. She was weird. It was something that she embraced and loved, and I had never known the word "weird" to have such a positive connotation before her. She doesn't feel the need to take everything so seriously, so she experiments with her creativity, and it works. Chappell Roan is the epitome of authenticity, and I look up to her every day for it. She isn't trying to be like everyone else, and she's showing the world that no one ever needs to be. Beyond that, she's a lesbian, and she's proud of it, so the entire LGBTQ+ community can be inspired by her success, seeing themselves in a society of straight celebrities. The impact she has made on the music industry will last forever. The standard for a "normal" popstar has been shattered, and Chappell Roan has started a new era.

When I was 8, I frequently played Minecraft with my brothers, and adults would tell my parents, “You should get your boys into coding.” When I was 13, I was the only girl in my computer science class, and after teaching with an analogy to video games, my teacher glanced at me and said, “Or shoes.” When I was 15, I googled what percentage of people in computer science were women. Then, worse, I googled what percentage of people in computer science were LGBTQ+. It didn’t take long to realize there wasn’t a place for me in computer science. Despite having what felt like the whole field against me, I knew computer science was my passion so I wouldn’t give up on it. I saw the polarization of the girls in my STEM classes, and it often felt like we were competing against each other, subconsciously trying to prove ourselves to the boys, in a place where we most needed to be lifting each other up. My vision for my future became a vision for all women in this discipline, and if there wasn’t a place for me in computer science, I would make one. I am confident that university is where my skills and knowledge can approach these dreams. Many women share these ideas, and if I can work with them, the collaboration of girls could be what repairs the very bonds that the subject shattered. When I see the little girls at my work learning to code, it gives me hope and a reason to seek the best education in computer science I can get. Not only for myself but for them and other girls everywhere. I remind myself that they’ll never have to feel out of place doing what they love, not if I can help it. These goals expand outside of computer science as well. I've been enamored by learning since I was very young, and I can't imagine ever wanting to stop. I want to achieve the highest degree I can afford, learning everything through school and experiences. Breaking the conventional boundaries of computer science would initiate groundbreaking progress in the field and exploring its sociotechnical aspects is my gateway to achieving this, so I need a greater education. I also know that there's power and knowledge that comes from involvement in the community, so if I can bring that into the rest of my work, computer science becomes a tool for social change, a huge step to making the field more accessible. I've always had a passion for the arts, something that isn't frequently associated with computer science. But I know that there’s potential in examining the field through a creative lens, something a higher, interdisciplinary education can facilitate. Computer science needs writers and artists to bring ideas beyond logic, envisioning technology's place in a better world, so it can be implemented. I want to enhance my artistic abilities, so my creativity can flourish and work alongside my growth as a STEM student, developing new possibilities for computer science. Everything I want to work toward is ultimately connected in its power to change me and then change the world around me. Bringing women together would accomplish so much for the field, and it would enable everything else to follow, so that's my primary interest, and if the rest of my personal goals come together, it is possible.

When I was in fifth grade, I used to spend all of my free time working on KenKen puzzles for a competition in my math class. It’s hard to imagine a 10-year-old captivated by a piece of paper with just boxes, symbols, and numbers, but that was my reality, and I loved every second of it. Even when I was guaranteed to win the competition, I continued to ask for more worksheets. It should’ve been apparent to me then that I had a passion for problem-solving and logic-driven activities, but I didn’t realize this love for math until later. It was when I moved to Milan, Italy during middle school that I finally realized how much math meant to me. The language barrier posed a struggle for me as I tried to make friends, so I began to resent the divide between myself and the Italians at my school. But then I went to math class. Math felt like the only constant in my life as everything else was rapidly changing around me. Numbers are universal, so all of my differences from the other students dissipated as we worked through equations and problems, and for that hour, I didn’t feel so out of place. I had always known that it was my best subject, but I began to realize the value of that from this experience. Math is the foundation of everything, and if I could master it, then I knew I could achieve anything else. One day, back in the US, in a small, dark classroom where I was the only girl, this love for math transformed into a love for computer science, and I’ve never looked back since. Using just math, code, and a keyboard, I feel like I have the entire world at my fingertips, and working out an algorithm brings me back to how I felt in fifth grade solving the KenKen puzzles. Math brought me my passion, and it continues to bring me satisfaction every day, so I am extremely grateful for it, and I know my love for math will never go away.