I am a person defined by passion. I consider my character to be built largely by who I am around and what interests I pursue. One of my largest defining passions is my research. The research I have completed is tied heavily to my love for my pets, my passion for genetics, my drive toward breaking stigmas, and my strong desire to solve problems. I hope the work I completed in high school will carry over into college, allowing me to have an innovative future driven by my desires. My first research project was completed in my sophomore year. Almost every science class in my school is required to do a science fair project, so I began to brainstorm ideas. I had recently gotten two pet ball pythons and was shocked to find that they repulsed many of my peers. This discovery led to me researching the effects of exposure therapy on irrational fears. I found studies of veterans being exposed to potentially triggering media while in calming areas, and the results showed that exposure therapy had been effective in significantly decreasing their fears. For my experiment, I exposed my peers to my pet ball python every other day for two weeks, expanding the time by thirty-second increments each week while taking the heart rate of the participants before and after the exposure, and asking them to rate their fear of the ball python on a scale from one to ten. By the end of the study, I determined that all participants except for one had seen a decrease in both tested areas following exposure. This success made me ecstatic, and I was elated to share my passions while watching the active destigmatization of a fascinating creature. My love for research has only grown since the first project. Each year, my experiments have grown more ambitious, and I have turned to projects that could be at the forefront of innovation. Currently, I am working to create a plant inoculated with luciferase that, when exposed to luciferin, could replace a low-level light source. I hope that by harnessing the power of bioluminescence, I can create a lower-cost method of producing light. I believe that, eventually, common streetlights could be replaced by bioluminescent trees, potentially even harnessing the ability to produce luciferin of their own similar to fireflies and certain species of mushrooms. I also recently completed a research project examining mourning gecko reproductive rates in enclosures of varying sizes to determine whether or not they were more likely to reproduce when closer together. This research correlates with the rapidly evolving discovery of facultative parthenogenesis in various organisms and could contribute to the theory that mourning geckoes can reproduce both sexually and asexually using previously undocumented sexual organs. My research in this field has granted me third place in the Junior Science and Humanities Symposium sponsored by the United States Department of Defense, and I will fly to New Mexico in May to compete at a national level.            No matter where my research goes, both currently and in the future, I take immense pride in my ideas and their execution, and I love conducting experiments. I envision a world driven by innovations from scientists of all ages, and I hope to be a part of the ever-evolving scientific renaissance. I would love for my passions to continue into college and my career, and I know that as long as I am in a laboratory, I will be as happy as possible.

The title of a musical arrangement should never be at the beginning. It seems silly, but a metaphor cannot be realized if something easier to comprehend is presented upfront. My musical journey has taught me that music itself is more than the title; it is a metaphor, a gorgeous cacophony of sounds, choices, and pathways. Music has allowed me to see that the world is a diverse and wonderful place full of various melodies, but that even when there is total dissonance, there will almost always be a gorgeous resolution. Every artist, be it Mozart or Beethoven, John Williams or Cody Fry, creates songs that all have a similar formula. Some form of beginning, to define the origin and mood, followed by an intensely gorgeous melody full of harmony and dissonance that lasts to the end, all reminding us that a song's title is often simply just that-- a title. The beginning of a piece is what makes it recognizable to most people such as the beginnings of "The Planets" by Holst or the head of "Giant Steps" by John Coltrane. Many pieces tell a story, and the beginning serves as an opportunity to introduce the theme. This is similar to people. Every person I meet has a different background, a story that is entirely their own, and a unique personality. First meetings provide an opportunity to get a preview of a person's personality, a snippet of their passion, and a window to their soul. But a beginning, while wonderful, only scratches the surface of a piece's (or person's!) real depth. The middle of a piece is often what truly defines it. It can start soft, and then escalate quickly to a rapid melody carried over the band. A confident fanfare at the beginning may evolve into a soft soloistic section, growing into a climax of dissonance and color. This teaches me that no person (and no relationship) will stay the same throughout the time spent together and that it takes more than one voice to create a memorable song. A melody can be sweet with a perfect parallel harmony for an entire song, but it becomes boring to the ear. Similarly, a relationship with no differences is stagnant. Dissonance, like in the works of Eric Whitacre, is necessary to make the bigger picture all the sweeter. Beauty can be found in the similarities as well as in the differences, making each person unique and each relationship distinct. The gorgeous chord that rings at the song's conclusion is parallel to the beautiful relationship that blossoms between two people. This is why the title of a song (or the lesson of the essay) should be at the end. Music is personalized, and the same piece varies from performance to performance. It is interactive and adaptable, just like the ever-changing world. Music has taught me that there is so much to discover, whether it's about myself, my relationships, or my opportunities. Music is what I make it, just as life is what I make it. But if the obvious lessons of life were handed to me upfront, if I never thought beyond the bland theme, I would not be where I am. Embracing the dissonance, going outside my comfort zone, and living life to the fullest has been essential. I am not defined by what society expects me to be. I am unapologetic, unafraid, and unwavering in all that I do, and I view the world as more than a title. Although, if I had to give it all a title (here at the end), it would be this: The Ultimate Symphony.