Barely keeping my head up above the water, I gripped my unicorn Rainbow, my beautiful steed of a deflated floatie. Even though I couldn’t swim, my fascination with the center of the shimmering lake tempted me to float out on my inner tube. My father had warned me not to wade past where I could touch the murky bottom, but I couldn’t leave the water unexplored. I had to go farther. He had his back turned, so I pushed off into the lake, my floatie supporting me as I kicked towards the sunlit center. When I tried to paddle back after reaching it, the gentle current managed to overpower me and left me stranded. My thrashing popped open the air valve, and my lifeline started to sink. My curiosity had gotten me stuck in the middle of the lake. Eventually, my screaming was noticed, and I was rescued by my dad swimming out to get me. Despite the lecture I received after, I’ve never forgotten the wonder I felt when surrounded by the sparkling water. When I broke limits at a young age, the result or situation was often dangerous. But as I grew, pushing the limits of my own knowledge excited me more. The prior limits ignored before usually were environmental, a physical line or landmark I couldn’t cross. But they weren't broken because I had a problem with authority. My curiosity, which was more obvious when I was a young girl and blissfully unaware of consequences, was too strong for me to ignore. I was a “runner.” From amusement parks to camping trips to airshows, I could be found sprinting to whatever interested me. I was bullied for the constant questions I would ask at school, especially by older boys in my class. “What’s in the center of the lake?” was the answer I went looking for, but it nearly drowned me. But as I matured, my questions shifted from ones like: “What happens when I stick the fork into the socket? to “What precipitate will these two compounds make?” When it comes to chemistry, I feel the same urge to discover the unknown when I was standing on that lake shore. During every lab, I’m anxious to see what will happen. In AP Chem, I ignite methane-filled bubbles and watch NaOH titrate into the strong acid HCl. The excitement I feel when the clear analyte turns pink has been sitting on my shoulder all my life. Twisting the lever and waiting for the liquid from the burette to react with what’s in the flask keeps me on my toes. It's the surprise of the result that encourages me to keep learning and exploring. My natural curiosity may have gotten me in trouble in the past, but that’s exactly what I need to propel my career in science. Science is all about testing and experiments, and observing the results. As a young woman, I plan to use my analytical thought process to think clearly, but unconventionally to find different solutions to problems. Women persevere in struggle and work well together, which is why STEM is an amazing career path for young women. You have to collaborate with team members for ideas, and a hypothesis requires multiple ideas and time-consuming tests. It also needs a questioning and curious personality. Rainbow sits in a storage box today, but I haven’t stopped exploring. When I was younger, I wanted to find what was out in the world. Today, the curiosity that almost drowned me encourages me to discover the building blocks of the universe.

Reading is a strange concept, when you carefully examine the process of it. Someone stares at thinly-cut slices from something previously living, with pigment pressed in shapes from a machine. But what results from it is a deep and passionately-crafted story, that has not existed in the real world, but the reader still cares enough to turn the page. That’s what’s impressive about a book. With the uprising of published media, plenty of genres revealed themselves: thriller, romance, and historical are well-known examples. But there’s one genre I’ve never fully understood, especially when compared alongside another style of story. For every slice-of-life book I’ve reluctantly finished, I’ve read and enjoyed at least three epic sagas, composed of high fantasies and innovative sci-fi’s. I even find myself questioning other readers that primarily touch into contemporary-style works. The response is usually that the content and characters are relatable. But engrossing myself in the hard and difficult struggles of normal everyday life pales in comparison when presented with another option, a magical realm developed carefully in someone’s mind. This is the prime reason why fantasy and sci-fi are so popular. Brandon Sanderson, legend of a fantasy author, is a master of weaving deep stories with layered characters that stick in the reader’s mind. My dad introduced his work to me at twelve, and I still search my local library’s shelves for his works now. Tales of dragons, spaceships, a witty narrator, and traveling nomads called “World-Hoppers,” was what kept me hooked. Eventually, I found his YouTube channel, and after hearing him speak about how long it took him to curate these stories, it rekindled an old love of mine. My aspirations as a child was to be an author, but essays and prompts from my school made me dread writing. I stopped having time to write for fun, and found myself grudgingly dragging through reports on classic works and essays about how special I am. This started the sour relationship between me and the average contemporary book. Writing about my hardships kept them in the back of my mind, so I gave up writing entirely. I wanted everything in my life to be perfect, my schoolwork, myself and my future novel. But Brandon mentioned it took years to develop a book, and shattered my false expectation that a book should be quick, and entirely put together in my head before actually writing it. My OCD, disguised as my “perfectionism,” finally stopped making me fear the empty Google Doc titled “Novel,” in the back of my drive. I also realized that I don’t have to be perfect. Tiny changes, edits, and peer reviews have helped both my stories, and myself. I still dive into fantasies regularly, but I don’t fear reading about the challenges and struggles of others. After facing my own obstacles, I’ve been relived of the weight on my shoulders, and talking about it with others doesn’t hurt as much. I don’t have to escape anymore.

I was raised in a Christian household, but I never understood the magnitude of God. That was true until a few years ago, after my parent's divorce. The split of my parents rendered me as angry and emotional, and I became the "problem child" to my elementary teachers. I had trouble making friends and avoided sports in middle school, because I was afraid of judgment. Eventually, I ended up spending my time with a group of people who picked on me because I was Christian. I didn't know anyone else, so I stayed with this clique. For a while, I lived in a lukewarm version of Christianity, which worsened when my church was shutdown due to Covid. However, when I started freshman year of high school, I felt a strange "pull" to leave my friend group. At first, I shrugged it off, not wanting to take the risk of having no friends. But as l hit my second semester, it was difficult to ignore. I realized this was a message from God to move on and start a new chapter with different people. So I finally started distancing myself from the group, and was soon free of it. I started making friends that truly cared about me, and I knew that God was calling me back to trust in him, and not my own solutions. Sophomore year, cheerleading caught my eye. After trying out, I received word I had gotten into junior varsity, and I loved the sport. But I still felt isolated from the other cheerleaders, and lots of drama was being passed around, to the point where my coach had to switch some of the girls in our stunt groups. The tension in the team took a toll on my enjoyment of the sport, and I began to dread going to practice. The winter season ended around February, and I felt the weight lift off my shoulders. I turned to Christ frequently throughout cheer because of the social stress. It was another trial to make me dependent on the Lord, rather than attempting to work through something difficult on my own. With junior year came another season of cheer, and I was excited to try out. Again, I had the urge to only try for varsity, not including junior varsity, in case I didn't make the prior. I originally planned to try out for both, but I decided to follow my gut and only apply for varsity. I was heartbroken to find I didn't make it. Upset and angry, I prayed constantly, asking for a mistake to be found in my score or a change in my coach's mind. After some time, I heard that the drama was worse, and the team was suffering, because most varsity members left due to the the poor attitude in the group. God's rejection of my own plan saved me from more stress later on. The trials of my parent's divorce, friends, cheerleading, and rejection proved that God was in control of my life, and that I shouldn't rely on my own plan. Today, I apply this faith to my own life, trusting in Him despite fear of new situations. Because of my newfound trust, I have the courage to enter new opportunities and seize my future. I want to become a chemist to understand God's world and utilize it for humanity. I'm applying to colleges, and I know that whichever one God points me to will take me down the right path. In my career, I'm confident God will secure it and allow me to better the world through science.

I'm a spontaneous person, and I like to learn about everything around. Because of this, everything STEM oriented has appealed to me. Science has always been a passion of mine since childhood. Since my first baking soda volcano, I've been messing with every chemistry kit. I once hid under my bathroom counter and mixed hydrogen peroxide with a bubbles solution, and made bubbles that were heavier, but were harder to pop. I was interested in technology when I got my first electric playground, with a 100 experiments. Despite being told to work through the book chronologically, I had flipped to step 100, which was a radio, after step 5. My ambition often makes me impatient with tutorials and "first steps", to the point where I aim for the biggest and most challenging aspect of a idea before anything else. Engineering has been my favorite of the STEM acronym, because I get to create designs and ideas of my own, instead of following a instruction manual. In my engineering class, we were given a breadboard, LED's and the program Ardunio. After a lecture on rudimentary coding, the instructions were to make the LED blink once. However, a friend and I had bored and started testing the program during the lesson, and eventually had a working LED that was blinking SOS in morse code by the time our teacher has finished talking. The rest of the class had just started setting up the breadboard. I also had inspiration for a 3D modeling project, and worked on it in class for 4 months. Video games came to mind, and I decided I would make a life-sized, wearable HALO helmet. I haven't played the game, so I had to find reference images on the internet. It was printed, painted, and fitted with foam, and has been my favorite project yet. Math is not as entertaining as science, tech, and engineering, but worth studying to see a high number on my test. Just beating my old score makes me happy, as improvement means I'll do better in the future. I've taken the ASVAB three times now, because I enjoy overtaking my previous results. To me, it means the effort I've put into school since my last test has paid off. The first score I got on the ASVAB was a 68, then a 85, and my most recent is a 93. The average score is a 50, but I have the drive to get the best score I can possibly achieve. My ultimate goal is to get my bachelor's degree in chemistry or engineering, and investigate how the world works. I want to be part of the effort to create new substances and find what's in space, and if we can inhabit it. My 4.0 and dedication to volunteering as a representative of National Honor Society proves my ambition to learn more and improve my skills and talent. I want to be well-equipped in my field, which is why I want to pursue higher education, and get another four years of experience from professors. My curiosity of the world around me and the willingness to learn something new will contribute to the STEM field because it will allow me to explore new ideas and designs, and improve old systems with a open mind. I am driven to get a quality education, leave my mark on research and development, and contribute to STEM to progress discovery further.