I grew up in a devout Christian family with both parents as believers. I went to church, read my bible (first the Jesus storybook bible), prayed before meals, and went to Wednesday night youth group. However, I first saw Christ’s impact in middle school as I became more aware of hardship and the world around me. I do not know the exact moment that I met Christ, but looking back I am able to see His hand in my life. I see Him in the nights I spent crying about friendship lost, and consequently, the people He steered me towards that shaped me. I see Him in the soccer team I made in fifth grade in which we prayed before each game, and ended practice with a devotion. I see Him during my anxiety surrounding sixth grade science tests in which I cried. I see His presence as I grew up and developed. Towards the end of middle school, I was more conscious of the role Christ had in my life. I became enamored by worship, and I started engaging with spiritual disciplines like prayer and confession. Once I started to develop a personal relationship with Christ, I began to struggle with complete surrender because I failed to put Christ above the things of this world. My faith was significantly challenged in the summer and fall of 2020, but this challenge has strengthened me. In the summer of 2020, I developed an eating disorder as a response to the tumultuous state of the world because of COVID. With everything out of control, this eating disorder gave me a false sense of comfort and I became obsessed with controlling my food and exercise. This spiraled into body image issues, and it worsened in fall of 2020. This was the hardest few months of my life, as I put vanity and this eating disorder above God. However, in October of 2020, I was deeply humbled when I was hospitalized for the aforementioned eating disorder. I was in denial and in shock, but my body and heart were going to give up if I did not get help. As a result, I was hospitalized in an inpatient hospital in Atlanta, Georgia for 2 months (fall of 2020). This flipped my whole life upside down because I had lost all control over everything in my life. I had to relinquish control around school because I only had 1 hour a day allowed to complete schoolwork. I had to relinquish control around food because my food was determined by a dietician. I had to relinquish control around exercise as a short walk was the only movement I was allowed. I had to relinquish control around friendship as I spent two months surrounded by strangers who were also struggling. As a type A person, this was my worst nightmare, but instead of fighting it, my relationship with Christ kept me stable during these two months away from home. At first, I was challenged as I questioned why this was a trial I had to fight, but as time progressed, it was my full surrender to the Lord that kept me going. I learned the power of prayer, the beauty of scripture, and the expansion of worship beyond singing songs. My relationship with Christ was the strongest relationship I had during those two months, and I learned how to find joy even though I was not happy. Looking back at those two months, I see the importance they had on my faith journey, and when I went home, I sought deeper friendships, finally enjoyed reading my Bible, and was more consistent in prayer. My faith journey has not been linear since then, and I still must take up my cross each day to fight the battles in my mind, and the pressures of the world. My natural propensity towards sin and anxiety can only be aided by surrender to God, and His subsequent grace. His grace keeps me rooted, and I can see His hand in my life pushing me towards the goals I have in front of me. In my journey to eating disorder recovery, I learned empathy like none other that has driven me towards the goals I seek. Each of us have unique gifts that shape His plan for our lives, and we are each called to use these gifts to further God’s kingdom. Paul writes in His letter to the church of Corinth, “ God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be?” (1 Corinthians 12:18-19). God wants us to adhere to our gifts, but realize that they are not for our own use, but for the works of His plan. I believe that God developed me emotionally and spiritually through my hardship, and gave me the empathy needed to draw me near to the field of healthcare. Paired with a deep desire for knowledge, and an enjoyment of science, this gift has led me to seek a career as a primary care physician. To do so, I will need to obtain an undergraduate degree, which I am currently seeking in Chemistry, as well as attend medical school. I have just finished my first year of undergrad at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and the Lord has shown me so much kindness this year. He has given me a wonderful community of believers, and He has expanded my desire to learn. I am excited for the work He is doing in me, and by me, and although the path to becoming a doctor will not be easy, I know He is preparing me. With this scholarship, I can continue moving forward with my education at Chapel Hill, and gain the knowledge I need to eventually become a doctor. I know this is the field that the Lord has called me to, and I am excited for the change that will come about in me and through me in this world.

When I was 5 years old, I wanted to be a teacher. I declared that I would be exactly like Mrs. Phillips, my kindergarten teacher. However, when I discovered that being a teacher was more than just playing games and taking kids to recess, I decided this is not what I wanted to do when I “grew up”. Like many, I have struggled with deciding on a career path since I was 5 years old. In sixth grade, I was set on becoming an aerospace engineer, but in eighth grade, a lawyer sounded more appealing. Despite the many pathways I considered at a young age, the one similarity between them all was a deep desire for knowledge. I am fascinated by the ways in which knowledge can be obtained and utilized as a means of improving the human condition. There is nothing that piques my interest more than the complexity of healthcare. Each patient is unique and their care must be personalized based on their unique situation. However, the healthcare system only functions efficiently and effectively if patients are treated based on scientifically proven measures. Science is the key to all parts of the healthcare system including diagnosis, treatment, and long term care. With my interest in healthcare, I hope to make an impact in this field of science: the field that maximizes accurate diagnosis and effective treatment of patients. To engage with this field of science, I am pursuing a degree in Chemistry with a focus in biochemistry to learn more about the science behind medicine. By discovering more about the scientific basis for medicine, I can have the knowledge needed to help identify weaknesses in the healthcare system, and create new devices to attack these weaknesses. My current work in a university research lab is an important step in this journey. Specifically, I am working on a project that improves the diagnostic standard for aphasia and dysphagia. One of the biggest problems with muscle disorders such as these is that a large number of them go undiagnosed. In addition, some may be mistaken for other issues and misdiagnosed. The diagnostic tool we seek to develop views aphasia and dysphasia objectively by using a muscle tracking device. Therefore, objective measures can be obtained to create a new standard for these disorders. This specific project reveals the broader problem I seek to address in science. I want to pursue objective ways to treat patients in order to make the healthcare system more efficient. Increasing efficiency will not negate the role of empathy in medicine. In fact, it allows medical professionals to have more accurate diagnoses and treatment plans to have more time and energy to treat their patients well. In addition to contributing to the field of medical research, I hope to become a primary care physician through medical school. Both research and application fascinate me and in medicine, they go hand in hand. In the end, I hope to impact the world in a way that will not make my name great, but will help transform the way through each interaction. Healthcare professionals, including myself, must intertwine empathy and efficiency to make the world a better place.

When I was 5 years old, I wanted to be a teacher. I declared that I would be exactly like Mrs. Phillips, my kindergarten teacher. However, when I discovered that being a teacher was more than just playing games and taking kids to recess, I decided this is not what I wanted to do when I “grew up”. Like many, I have struggled with deciding on a career path since I was 5 years old. In sixth grade, I was set on becoming an aerospace engineer, but in eighth grade, a lawyer sounded more appealing. Despite the many pathways I considered at a young age, the one similarity between them all was a deep desire for knowledge. I am fascinated by the ways in which knowledge can be obtained and utilized as a means of improving the human condition. There is nothing that piques my interest more than the complexity of healthcare. Each patient is unique and their care must be personalized based on their unique situation. However, the healthcare system only functions efficiently and effectively if patients are treated based on scientifically proven measures. Science is the key to all parts of the healthcare system including diagnosis, treatment, and long term care. With my interest in healthcare, I hope to make an impact in this field of science: the field that maximizes accurate diagnosis and effective treatment of patients. To engage with this field of science, I am pursuing a degree in Chemistry with a focus in biochemistry to learn more about the science behind medicine. By discovering more about the scientific basis for medicine, I can have the knowledge needed to help identify weaknesses in the healthcare system, and create new devices to attack these weaknesses. My current work in a university research lab is an important step in this journey .Specifically, I am working on a project that improves the diagnostic standard for aphasia and dysphagia. One of the biggest problems with muscle disorders such as these is that a large number of them go undiagnosed. In addition, some may be mistaken for other issues and misdiagnosed. The diagnostic tool we seek to develop views aphasia and dysphasia objectively by using a muscle tracking device. Therefore, objective measures can be obtained to create a new standard for these disorders. This specific project reveals the broader problem I seek to address in science. I want to pursue objective ways to treat patients in order to make the healthcare system more efficient. Increasing efficiency will not negate the role of empathy in medicine. In fact, it allows medical professionals to have more accurate diagnoses and treatment plans to have more time and energy to treat their patients well.

The date is October 20th, 2020. I lay in an unfamiliar bed. One that is more or less a wooden frame with a mattress pad thrown on top of it. One that is 300 miles from my family. At 6:00 am, I awake to the loud sounds of a medical machine rolling into the room. The lights are turned on. A nurse puts a heart rate monitor on my finger, a blood pressure pump on my arm, and a thermometer under my tongue. Then, we wait for the beeps. She records it all, and carts the machine across the room. After repeating this to my roommate, she exits. I fall back into an unconscious state, where I try to imagine that everything is okay. A short hour later, we hear the loud yells of a therapist assistant, who tells us it is time for morning hygiene. We get up, go to the nurse for weights, take a shower, brush our teeth, and form a line to go downstairs. My next 42 mornings would follow the exact same routine. Monotony is a funny thing. It is defined as, “tedious sameness,” and tends to carry a negative connotation. However, I came to find comfort in monotony as this morning routine was one of the few sources of stability. In fact, despite the repetition, the roommates would come and go (5 different girls to be exact), the TA’s would rotate (some more friendly than others), the line would shorten and lengthen, and my attitude would ebb and flow. My life became anything but stable. Everywhere I looked, change was inevitable, so this sense of constancy was a breath of fresh air. Growing up, I resented change. I cried at age 10 when Austin and Ally, my favorite Disney Channel show, went off air. Unlike most kids, summer was not my favorite time of the year because I missed going to school everyday. Therefore, when my life was dramatically changed, I was terrified. In September 2020, I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, the illness that almost took my life. I tried to heal it on my own, but I continued down the wrong path to the brink of death. For the first two and a half weeks of that October, I sat in East Tennessee Children’s Hospital, and change became the forefront of my life. An inpatient hospital in Atlanta, Georgia was my only option. Aside from the fact that I would have to face this mental battle, I had to leave all of my friends, put school on the back burner, and live far away from my family. My whole life was out of control, and October 19th was the hardest day of my life. On this day, I woke up in a hotel , and drove to an office with a red sign. My parents and I walked inside, but shortly thereafter, I was whisked away in a wheelchair. I did not know it at the time, but the next 42 days of constant change would forever alter my perception of the world. After 42 days, I returned home and slept in my own bed. I woke up to the sound of my dogs on my bed, rather than a nurse. My life had become normal again. However, being home came with weekly therapy appointments, and constant trips to the doctor, so normal may not be the correct word. However, I have learned to live in the abnormal. I am now stable in my recovery, and I no longer resent change. The abnormal is what makes like wonderful.

From "integration" to "implicit differentiation", calculus terms can sound daunting and impossible. This is for good reason, as implicit differentiation needs a complex name, since it is a complex process. Naming it something like "addition" or "number" would have given calculus students across the globe a false sense of hope that has little place in calculus. However, although these concepts fulfill their difficult names, they are not impossible, but rather intrinsic for STEM students. After taking AP Calculus this past year, I have learned how calculus is the foundation for any successful STEM student. Not only are upper level Physics and Chemistry problems dependent upon the principles of Calculus, but it also teaches STEM students to work hard and learn how to fail. Going into Calculus, I had never struggled in a math class. There were certainly tests here and there that I missed the mark on, but it usually came down to if I studied, I got an A. This rhythm became familiar to me in math classes ever since elementary school. However, calculus presents a completely foreign beast. From the introduction of a derivative, I learned that for the first time in my life, I was going to have to commit to math. Through calculus, I learned how to truly study a stem subject. To me, studying for Calculus relied on repetition. Being an active learner was the only way for foreign sequences and integration rules to stick in my brain. Therefore, I learned that in order to succeed, I would need to devote time each day to the subject of Calculus. Not only did this routine help me succeed in learning Calculus, but it also taught me a broader lesson about life: life does not owe you ease, and you cannot expect results without dedication. Through these lessons, I have become a better student and a harder worker in every activity I do. The key to success for me is not panic or worry, but rather setting aside time each day to attack the task at hand. All that you can do in the moment is attack the present, and calculus taught me how to attack each task at hand. Therefore, Calculus is the foundation for the STEM field both literally and metaphorically. Yes, many concepts in engineering, medicine, and research cannot be performed without Calculus, but also many lessons in hardwork, determination, and dedication are learned through the concepts in calculus. These lessons will certainly be needed as I attack the STEM field ahead of me, and I am thankful Calculus helped me learn them.

The date is October 20th, 2020. I lay in an unfamiliar bed. One that is more or less a wooden frame with a mattress pad thrown on top. One that is far from my family. At 6:00 am, I awake to the loud sounds of a medical machine rolling into the room. The lights are turned on. A nurse puts a heart rate monitor on my finger, a blood pressure cuff on my arm, and a thermometer under my tongue. Then, we wait for the beeps. She records it all, and carts the machine across the room. After repeating this to my roommate, she exits. I fall back into an unconscious state. A short hour later, we hear the loud yells of a therapist assistant, who tells us it is time for morning hygiene. We get up, go to the nurse for weights, take a shower, brush our teeth, and form a line to go downstairs. My next 42 mornings would follow this exact routine. Monotony is a funny thing. Defined as “tedious sameness,” it carries a negative connotation. However, I came to find comfort in monotony as this morning routine was one of the few sources of stability over those 42 days. In fact, despite the repetition, the roommates would come and go (5 different girls to be exact), the TAs would rotate (some more friendly than others), the line would shorten and lengthen, and my attitude would ebb and flow. My life became anything but stable. Everywhere I looked, change was inevitable, so this sense of constancy was a breath of fresh air. Growing up, I resented change. I cried at age 10 when Austin and Ally, my favorite Disney Channel show, went off air. Unlike most kids, summer was not my favorite time of the year because I missed going to school everyday. Therefore, when my life was dramatically changed, I was terrified. In September of 2020, I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa. I tried to heal it on my own, but I continued down a path leading to death. For the first two and a half weeks of October, I sat in East Tennessee Children’s Hospital, and change became the forefront of my life. An inpatient hospital in Atlanta, Georgia was my only option. In addition to facing this mental battle, I had to leave all of my friends, put school on the back burner, and live far away from my family. My whole life was out of control. October 19th. On this day, I woke up in a hotel room, and drove to an office building with a red sign. My parents and I walked inside, but shortly thereafter, I was whisked away in a wheelchair. I did not know it at the time, but 42 days of constant change would forever alter my perception of the world. After 42 days, I returned home and slept under my own blankets. I woke up to the sound of my dogs jumping on my bed. My life had become normal again. Now, it has been over a thousand days since I came home from Atlanta, and the details of those 42 days are fading into a distant memory. However, the lessons that I learned will not fade, and these lessons have shaped who I have become. Who have I become? I have become a stronger leader, a harder worker, and a deeper friend. I no longer let the seemingly mundane things in life pass me by. I have learned to appreciate each sunset and each rainfall. I have learned to live in the present rather than dwell in the past or hyper fixate on the future. But more than anything, I have allowed myself to be me. I have allowed myself to be loud and outgoing, and to step into each day as I am. I have changed. Change is a privilege. After attending an inpatient facility, I spent a long time resenting the fact that I needed a hospital for change. However, as I have matured, I have learned that it was not a horrible experience, but instead a privilege. This privilege is one that not many people receive. There are hundreds of thousands of people who seek mental health treatment and not all of them are given accessible treatment. By reframing treatment as a privilege rather than a burden, I have come to not only accept change, but also realize that change is beautiful.

In 2015, Onkyo, a Japanese company, released the first version of a product on the market that would improve my life, and many lives of others. The wireless earbud. Although it was a small product, merely the size of a grape, it was a product that became sought after. Popularized by Apple the following year, the product would be coined “Airpod,” and it would find its way onto the shelves of every Walmart, Target, and superstore across the world. Finally, in the Christmas of 2017, it would find its way under my tree, and my life for the next 7 years would be improved. The idea of a wireless headphone changing my life may sound silly and dramatic. However, the headphones that I have carried around for the last seven years have allowed me to find peace in the violence of the world. The world that we live in is loud, overwhelming, and for someone with anxiety, this world can be debilitating. However, the peace that two small Airpods bring has allowed me to find productivity and quietness in the hustle. The best way to describe my anxiety is to imagine a subway station. There are several tracks and trains moving at what seems the speed of light. These trains are my thoughts. Each thought comes into my head at what seems the speed of light, and I do not know which one I am supposed to get on. I look down at my ticket and try to find out what time my subway leaves. This is how I get when I am trying to make a decision. Suddenly, a person comes up to you, and tries to sell you something. Another distraction. Another thought. Living in my brain is like living in a crowded subway station. Overwhelming and chaotic. However, imagine a subway station in which there is no one there but you. Peaceful, calm, and a solace from the crowded bustle of life. This is how my brain feels with Airpods in. Peaceful and calm. Sometimes my Airpods have nothing playing in them. Sometimes I have the Pride and Prejudice instrumental soundtrack that lets my mind drift. Sometimes I have the chaotic tune of “Nonstop” from Hamilton as I internally sing every word. Yet no matter what is playing, I can find relaxation in the tune. As a woman in technology, I hope to create something that provides peace for someone as Airpods have provided peace for me. We live in a chaotic world, and finding solace is imperative for success. Each person has their own peace, and I hope to meet that need for someone in the future.