When I first became a Chief Science Officer through SciTech Institute, I didn’t think of myself as a leader. I was quiet, observant, and unsure of whether I could make a difference. But like Don Jorge, whose legacy reminds us that the greatest leaders often lead with kindness and humility, I’ve learned that the most meaningful impact starts not with grand gestures, but with small, consistent acts of service rooted in empathy. My school is located in a working-class immigrant community where many students, like me, are first-generation Americans. For a long time, STEM felt inaccessible to many of my peers—something reserved for privileged students with the right connections or resources. I wanted to change that. That’s why I organized a school-wide STEM Fair centered on inclusivity, curiosity, and community-building. I didn’t want it to feel like a competition, but a celebration. I recruited student presenters from all backgrounds and made sure we featured projects that connected science to real-world problems our community faced—like food insecurity, pollution, and healthcare access. I invited teachers, families, and younger students to participate in interactive booths, creating an atmosphere of joy and discovery. My goal was simple: make every student feel like they belonged in STEM. One parent approached me after the event and said, “I never thought I’d see my daughter explain a science project to strangers with such confidence.” That moment stayed with me. It reminded me of something I imagine Don Jorge knew well—that kindness isn’t just about being nice; it’s about opening doors for others to thrive. At the same time, I launched a self-initiated AI health project through the HeartMatters Foundation, where I developed an open-source tool to detect cardiomegaly—an often-ignored heart condition that disproportionately affects low-income communities. I published the model on GitHub and created an educational webpage to explain how underserved families could seek screening and care. I didn’t just want to build tech—I wanted to build trust and access. Throughout this journey, I often found myself working behind the scenes—debugging code late at night, printing flyers for the fair, or tutoring underclassmen who felt lost in AP classes. I rarely got public recognition for these things, and I didn’t need to. Like Don Jorge, I found fulfillment in doing the work no one else noticed, in being the person others could rely on to show up early, stay late, and lead with compassion. This experience has deeply shaped who I am and who I want to become. It’s why I plan to major in computational biology and work on ethical, accessible medical AI tools in the future. I believe science should not widen social divides—it should heal them. I want to be a quiet force in that mission, leading not through titles or applause, but through service, empathy, and collaboration. Don Jorge’s legacy reminds me that leadership is not about being loud—it’s about being present. Not about power, but about purpose. Through my community service, I’ve learned that unity comes from listening, sharing, and lifting others up. That’s the kind of leader I strive to be—not the one in the spotlight, but the one who makes sure the spotlight reaches everyone.

“Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” I live by these words—not just in the classroom, but in how I seek to reshape what’s possible for people like me. As a first-generation Taiwanese-American and the child of low-income immigrants, I’ve often found myself navigating unfamiliar systems: language, culture, education, and even healthcare. I learned early on that simply following the path isn’t enough—because for many marginalized communities, the path doesn't exist at all. I decided to use what I love—technology, biology, and design—to help build that path. In 2023, I began working on a self-initiated project to address an often-overlooked problem in low-income and minority communities: undiagnosed cardiovascular disease. Heart disease is the leading cause of death in the U.S., and early detection can save lives. But many people in underserved areas lack access to expensive diagnostic tools or specialists. That’s when I asked myself: What if artificial intelligence could help fill that gap? With guidance from online mentors and open-source datasets, I trained a machine learning model to detect cardiomegaly—a dangerous enlargement of the heart—using chest X-ray images. I wasn’t part of a university lab or a formal internship program; I learned from scratch, spending nights tweaking convolutional neural network architectures and testing image preprocessing techniques. I published my project on GitHub and made it fully open-source. Then I went further: I partnered with HeartMatters, a nonprofit that raises awareness about cardiovascular risks in underserved communities. Together, we created a public webpage explaining cardiomegaly, how AI could assist with early screening, and where to seek help. It wasn’t just about code—it was about empowering people with tools and knowledge they often don’t have access to. What made this project meaningful wasn’t just the technical challenge—it was knowing I was building something that might one day help people like my dad, who ignored his own chest pains for months because we didn’t have insurance. Or my grandmother, who lived in rural Taiwan and never saw a cardiologist. This project was for them. But I didn’t stop there. I became a Chief Science Officer for my region through SciTech Institute and organized a school-wide STEM Fair to highlight innovations like AI in medicine. I shared my cardiomegaly project with younger students, especially girls and students of color, showing them that research and tech aren’t just for people in white coats or Silicon Valley—they’re for us, too. I know that I don’t fit the “traditional” mold. I’ve had to teach myself Python, research papers, and statistical modeling because I couldn’t afford expensive summer camps or private tutors. My family and I have packed orders in our garage to make rent. But it’s exactly because of these challenges that I believe in forging my own path—and making sure that path is wide enough for others to follow. Winning this scholarship would not only ease my financial burden as I pursue a future in computational biology—it would be an investment in someone who is determined to use every skill, every resource, and every opportunity to lift others up with me. Because true innovation isn’t just about what you build—it’s about who you build it for.

Heart disease is the leading cause of death in the United States, yet many people in my community rarely talk about it until it’s too late. After losing a family member to an undiagnosed condition, I realized how limited public awareness was—especially among younger generations who could help their parents and grandparents prevent these problems. That realization motivated me to take action. In 2024, I joined HeartMatters Foundation, a student-led nonprofit that promotes cardiovascular health through community events and education. I began by helping design and build the organization’s website so people could easily access prevention tips and sign up for free health workshops. I also contributed articles that translated complex medical information into simple language families could understand. While working with HeartMatters, I discovered how technology could amplify our reach. Using open-source datasets, I trained an AI model to detect cardiomegaly—an indicator of heart enlargement—from chest X-rays. I published the project on GitHub and shared it through HeartMatters’ platform, connecting scientific innovation with community education. What started as a small coding experiment became a way to show that youth-driven technology can serve public health. To further expand awareness, I helped organize a Heart Health Awareness Week, collaborating with volunteers to host workshops where students built mini projects using data and sensors to monitor heart rate. Seeing families engage with the science behind health prevention was the moment I realized change starts with curiosity. In the future, I hope to partner with local clinics to test and refine the AI tool as an educational resource, helping doctors explain risk factors to patients visually. I also want to build a youth research mentorship program under HeartMatters to teach other students how to apply data science to social good. My motivation comes from loss, but my drive comes from hope—the belief that technology and compassion together can prevent future heartbreaks. I may be a teenager, but every small ripple of awareness can grow into waves of healthier lives.

The movie that has had the greatest impact on my life is I, Robot. On the surface, it’s a science-fiction action film filled with futuristic robots and suspenseful chases. But beneath the entertainment, it raises powerful questions about technology, responsibility, and humanity. Watching it for the first time as a young teenager opened my eyes to the possibilities of artificial intelligence—and planted the seed for the career path I now want to pursue. What struck me most about I, Robot was the idea that technology is not inherently good or bad—it depends on how we use it. The film shows a world where robots designed to serve people could also become a threat if misused. That duality fascinated me. Instead of just seeing machines as tools, I began to wonder: what if we could design technology that not only followed commands but also supported human well-being in a responsible and ethical way? That question stayed with me. When my grandfather passed away from a sudden brain hemorrhage, it returned in a more personal form: what if AI could help detect diseases earlier, giving families more time to act? Inspired by the questions raised in I, Robot, I started exploring computational biology and artificial intelligence. I built a project that used AI to detect cardiomegaly (heart enlargement) from chest X-rays. The process of coding, training models, and testing data felt like a continuation of the curiosity first sparked by the movie—but this time, with a clear purpose: to help others. I, Robot also influenced how I think about responsibility in science. The film shows how innovation without accountability can cause harm, and that lesson resonates with me as I prepare for a future in research. Technology is advancing faster than ever, but without leaders who think about equity, ethics, and humanity, it risks leaving behind the very people it should serve. That is why my career goal is not only to advance AI in medicine but to do so in a way that ensures accessibility for underserved communities. The movie even shaped how I view resilience. The protagonist, Detective Spooner, spends much of the film fighting against systems that others accept. His persistence reminded me that leadership sometimes means questioning the status quo, even when it’s difficult. That lesson has guided me in my own life—from overcoming the challenges of learning with an IEP to encouraging students I tutor to believe in themselves. Looking back, it amazes me that a two-hour film could change the trajectory of my life. I, Robot was not just entertainment; it was a spark that connected science fiction to real-world purpose. It showed me that imagination and responsibility must go hand in hand, and it gave me the courage to dream of building tools that blend both. In the future, when I am working on AI-powered healthcare solutions, I know I will carry with me the lessons of that movie: that technology must serve humanity, that ethical leadership matters, and that even bold dreams can begin with a story. That is why I, Robot remains the most impactful movie of my life.

Mental health is something that has quietly but powerfully shaped who I am today. Growing up, I often felt the weight of stress and self-doubt—whether it was navigating a new language after moving from Taiwan, balancing my Individualized Education Plan (IEP) in school, or worrying about my family’s financial struggles as a low-income immigrant household. There were times when the pressure of grades, expectations, and uncertainty about the future felt overwhelming. These experiences challenged my mental health, but they also forced me to develop resilience and perspective. I came to realize that mental health is not just about avoiding stress or sadness—it is about learning how to manage challenges, ask for help when needed, and practice patience with myself. This shift in belief has shaped not only how I see myself, but how I see others. I now believe that every person carries struggles that are often invisible, and that compassion should always come first. That belief guides my relationships. With friends, I’ve become the person who listens without judgment, because I know how much it matters to be heard. With classmates and the students I tutor, I encourage them to see mistakes not as failures but as stepping stones. My own journey with mental health has made me more empathetic and more intentional about building others up. Mental health has also shaped my career aspirations. Losing my grandfather to a sudden brain hemorrhage sparked my interest in using artificial intelligence in medicine. But it was my own experience with stress and perseverance that convinced me I want to do more than just build algorithms. I want to create technology that helps people—especially those who, like me, have felt vulnerable or powerless. Healthcare is not just about curing the body; it’s about supporting the whole person. If technology can relieve some of that burden—whether by catching disease early, making care more affordable, or giving families peace of mind—then it can play a role in supporting mental health too. My mental health journey has also inspired me to be open about challenges rather than hiding them. As an SAT tutor, I share my own struggles with learning and confidence so students know they are not alone. I remind them that resilience comes from facing challenges, not avoiding them. These conversations often mean more to them than test strategies, and they mean a lot to me too. Looking forward, I aspire to pursue computational biology and artificial intelligence in college, with the goal of developing tools that improve healthcare access for underserved communities. But just as importantly, I want to lead with empathy—to remember that behind every patient, every student, every person is someone with a story, struggles, and hopes. Mental health has taught me that strength is not about never struggling—it’s about continuing to move forward, even when the path is difficult. That lesson shapes how I live, how I connect with others, and how I hope to use science and leadership to shape the future.

One of the people who has had the greatest influence on me during high school is my math teacher, Mr. Shulman. Math has always been a subject that fascinated me, but it was also a subject where I sometimes struggled with confidence. Complicated formulas, multi-step problems, and abstract theories could feel overwhelming. Mr. Shulman changed that for me—not just by teaching math, but by teaching me how to approach challenges in life. What stood out most about Mr. Shulman was his ability to make complex concepts feel simple and approachable. When the rest of us were tangled up in equations, he would take a step back and find a way to explain them in plain, memorable terms. He never made students feel “less than” for not understanding right away. Instead, he patiently broke down each idea until the lightbulb moment came. For me, those moments built more than academic understanding—they built confidence. One example I’ll never forget was when we were working through a tough calculus unit. Many of us felt lost. Instead of pushing us through the textbook, Mr. Shulman paused and drew diagrams on the board, using real-life examples—like the way water fills a container or how a car speeds up and slows down—to explain derivatives and integrals. Suddenly, what once felt abstract made sense. It wasn’t just about memorizing; it was about truly seeing the logic behind the math. Beyond the classroom, Mr. Shulman also influenced how I think about perseverance. He often reminded us that struggling with a problem wasn’t failure—it was proof that we were learning. That perspective changed me. Before, I saw mistakes as weaknesses. After, I began to see them as stepping stones. This shift helped me not only in math but also in science, computer programming, and even in personal challenges. His approach has shaped my goals for the future. When I work with students now as an SAT tutor, I try to bring the same patience and encouragement Mr. Shulman showed me. Many of my students come in thinking they aren’t “math people.” I tell them what Mr. Shulman told me: that everyone can grow with the right approach and mindset. His influence has given me a model of what it means to lead and teach with empathy. Ultimately, Mr. Shulman’s greatest impact on me was not just helping me succeed in math, but teaching me how to face difficulty with persistence, creativity, and optimism. These lessons continue to guide me as I pursue my passion for computational biology and artificial intelligence. When I face setbacks in research or life, I remind myself of his words and his example: problems can be broken down, understanding can be built step by step, and progress is always possible. Because of Mr. Shulman, I no longer see obstacles as roadblocks but as challenges waiting to be solved. He taught me to approach life like a math problem—with patience, with curiosity, and with confidence that there is always a solution if you’re willing to keep working toward it.

Leadership and science are two forces that, when combined, shape the future in powerful ways. Science gives us the tools to discover, invent, and solve complex problems. Leadership ensures those discoveries are used responsibly, equitably, and in service to people who need them most. Together, they move society forward. I learned this lesson through personal experience. When my grandfather passed away from a sudden brain hemorrhage, I realized too late that there had been warning signs—headaches, slurred speech, paralysis—that no one recognized. That loss became a turning point in my life. It transformed my interest in science into a mission: to pursue computational biology and artificial intelligence so families like mine might one day have technology that catches disease earlier and gives them more time together. But science alone is not enough. Without leadership, even the most groundbreaking discoveries can sit unused in labs or widen gaps between those who have access and those who don’t. Leadership is what turns knowledge into action. I have tried to practice this kind of leadership in my own community. As an SAT tutor for the College Board and Schoolhouse, I work with students—many from low-income families—who often doubt themselves. My job goes beyond teaching equations; it’s about encouraging them to believe in their abilities. Through HeartMatters, a nonprofit focused on cardiovascular education, I’ve also learned how leadership means translating science into everyday knowledge, empowering families to take charge of their health. Looking ahead, I believe the future depends on leaders who can bridge science and humanity. We face enormous challenges—global health inequities, climate change, and the rapid rise of technology. Solving them will require scientists who lead with both skill and compassion. That is the kind of person I want to be. My goal is to master computational biology and AI, not just to push technology forward, but to ensure it serves communities who are often overlooked. A scholarship would help me pursue this path—equipping me to lead with both science and heart, shaping a future that is more hopeful and more just.

My name is Raymond, and I am a senior in high school preparing to become a first-generation college student. I come from a low-income Taiwanese immigrant family, where resources have often been limited, but faith, determination, and service have always been at the center of our lives. My parents, my younger sibling, and I are Christians, and our belief that hard work and purpose can overcome obstacles has shaped me into someone who is resilient, curious, and committed to giving back. The “trade” I plan to pursue is computational biology and artificial intelligence, with a focus on healthcare. I see this field as a modern craft—one that combines technical skill, creativity, and problem-solving to build tools that can save lives. My passion for this path began after my grandfather’s sudden passing from a brain hemorrhage. The warning signs were there—headaches, slurred speech, paralysis—but no one in the room recognized them in time. That experience left me determined to build technologies that can catch diseases earlier, giving families more time and more hope. To master my trade, I have already begun laying the foundation. At Carnegie Mellon University’s Pre-College program, I studied computational biology, learning how to align genomes, debug code, and run experiments in both the lab and on the computer. I also developed an AI project to detect cardiomegaly, or heart enlargement, from medical images. That project showed me both the promise and the challenges of this field—how every algorithm requires patience, creativity, and persistence. These experiences convinced me that computational biology and AI are not just academic subjects but skills I can hone and refine, much like an artisan mastering their craft. I know that mastery comes from practice, so in college, I plan to immerse myself in research opportunities, join collaborative teams like AI4BIO, and learn from mentors who are at the cutting edge of the field. I will treat every challenge—whether debugging stubborn code or interpreting complex biological data—as an opportunity to grow sharper in my skills. Just as carpenters shape wood through repetition and care, I will shape my abilities through disciplined study, experimentation, and constant learning. Giving back to my community is central to why I am pursuing this trade. As a tutor for the College Board and Schoolhouse SAT Bootcamps, I already mentor students, many of whom come from low-income families like mine. I see tutoring as more than teaching test strategies—it’s about encouraging students to believe in themselves and reminding them that their circumstances do not define their futures. Similarly, through my work with HeartMatters, a nonprofit that educates communities about cardiovascular disease, I’ve seen how knowledge can empower people to live healthier lives. In the future, I want to give back by creating tools that make healthcare more accessible to underserved communities. Technology often benefits those who already have resources, but my goal is to change that—to ensure that the families who need support most can access affordable, life-saving tools. Whether it’s developing early detection systems for heart disease or building AI platforms that assist doctors in rural clinics, I want my trade to serve those who are too often left behind. A scholarship would allow me to pursue this path without the heavy burden of financial stress. It would give me the freedom to focus on mastering my trade—through education, research, and mentorship—and to return that investment by giving back to my community through service, teaching, and innovation.

My name is Raymond, and I am a senior in high school preparing to become a first-generation college student. I grew up in a Taiwanese immigrant family where money was always tight, but love, faith, and determination were never in short supply. My parents, my younger sibling, and I have leaned on our Christian faith to carry us through challenges, and those experiences have shaped me into someone who is resilient, curious, and deeply motivated to serve others. From the time I was young, I was drawn to science and technology. While other kids played video games, I spent hours on YouTube science channels, fascinated by how the world works. But my passion became personal when I lost my grandfather to a sudden brain hemorrhage. I still remember the details: his headaches, the fogginess in his speech, the moment when one side of his body became paralyzed. My family didn’t realize these were warning signs until it was too late. That loss left a hole in my heart, but it also gave me a purpose. I wanted to find a way to use technology to prevent other families from going through what mine did. That purpose led me to pursue computational biology and artificial intelligence. At Carnegie Mellon University’s Pre-College program, I experienced the thrill and challenge of combining biology with computer science—debugging genomic alignment code, pipetting in the lab, and brainstorming experiments with peers late into the night. I also created an AI model to detect cardiomegaly, or heart enlargement, from medical images. It wasn’t perfect, but it showed me that I could turn grief into innovation and curiosity into action. My background has also taught me to value persistence. As someone with an IEP, learning hasn’t always been straightforward. Sometimes assignments took me longer, or I struggled with tests in ways that didn’t reflect how much I had studied. But I never let those challenges define me. Instead, I developed strategies, worked harder, and kept going. Over time, that persistence turned into achievement: a 4.3211 weighted GPA, top AP exam scores, and the confidence that I can handle difficult things. Equally important to me is giving back. I serve as an SAT tutor through both the College Board and Schoolhouse, where I help students—many from low-income families like mine—prepare for one of the biggest hurdles to college. For me, tutoring isn’t just about math formulas or reading comprehension. It’s about encouraging students to believe in themselves, just as others believed in me. I also volunteer with HeartMatters, a nonprofit focused on cardiovascular health education. Through this, I connect my scientific interests with service, teaching people in my community how to prevent disease before it’s too late. Looking forward, my aspiration is to continue this blend of science, technology, and service. I want to study computational biology and AI in college, then pursue research that makes healthcare more accessible and affordable. My dream is to work at a place like Google Health or DeepMind, where I can contribute to breakthroughs that save lives and give families more time together. A scholarship would make this journey possible. My parents have sacrificed so much to support me, but as a low-income immigrant family, we cannot afford the cost of college without help. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to pursue my education fully, without being limited by financial barriers. More than that, it would affirm the values that have carried me this far: resilience, compassion, and a determination to transform challenges into opportunities to serve others.

One of the biggest challenges I have faced in my education is living with an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) for a learning disability. For me, the struggle has never been a lack of curiosity or motivation, but rather finding effective ways to translate my ideas and understanding into the forms schools often expect—whether it’s written essays, timed tests, or public presentations. At times, I felt as though my disability set me apart from my peers, making me worry that my potential would be overshadowed by my difficulties. In the beginning, this challenge often left me frustrated. I would spend extra hours on assignments, only to feel like my work didn’t reflect what I truly knew. Group projects sometimes made me nervous, because I worried others might think I was not contributing enough. For a while, I struggled silently with the fear that my disability defined me. But with the help of my teachers, my IEP accommodations, and my family’s encouragement, I began to see things differently. I learned to lean on strategies that helped me succeed: breaking tasks into smaller steps, using technology tools to stay organized, and asking for clarification when I needed it instead of staying quiet. More importantly, I began to accept that needing support is not a weakness, but a way to unlock my strengths. Over time, these strategies helped me not only overcome challenges but thrive academically. I have maintained a 4.3211 weighted GPA (3.95 unweighted) and scored highly on AP exams in rigorous subjects like Calculus BC, Physics, and Computer Science. These achievements didn’t come easily, but they taught me that persistence and creative problem-solving are just as important as raw ability. My learning disability has also shaped my values. I know what it feels like to be underestimated, and that has made me more empathetic toward others who struggle—whether academically, socially, or personally. This empathy drives my work as an SAT tutor for the College Board and Schoolhouse Bootcamps, where I help other students—many from under-resourced backgrounds—prepare for their own academic challenges. I make it a priority to encourage them, showing that setbacks do not define their futures. What motivates me most to continue my education is the belief that my challenges have prepared me to make a unique impact. When I lost my grandfather to a sudden medical crisis, I was reminded of why persistence matters. Instead of being discouraged, I resolved to pursue computational biology and artificial intelligence, fields where I can apply my skills to solving problems that truly matter—like creating tools that detect diseases earlier and save lives. My disability has taught me to persevere through obstacles, and I want to carry that same mindset into research that can improve healthcare access for families like mine. In the end, my IEP has not been a barrier, but a teacher. It has taught me resilience, creativity, and humility. It has shown me that success is not about having a smooth path, but about continuing to walk forward even when the road is steep. A scholarship would allow me to keep moving forward—pursuing higher education with the confidence that I can turn my challenges into strengths, and my strengths into service for others.

My career aspirations have been shaped deeply by two realities of my life: growing up in a low-income immigrant family and losing my grandfather to a sudden medical crisis. These experiences have shown me both the fragility of life and the power of science to make a difference. They are why I want to dedicate my future to building technologies that improve healthcare access and outcomes, especially for families like mine. When my grandfather suffered a brain hemorrhage, my family was left helpless. My grandmother described how he first complained of headaches, then grew disoriented, his vision blurred, and eventually one side of his body became paralyzed. These were all warning signs, but no one in the room recognized them in time. By the time he was rushed to surgery, it was too late. I remember thinking afterward: what if there had been a way to detect these symptoms earlier? What if technology could have alerted us and given us a chance to act? That loss changed me. Until then, I had loved science for its curiosity, but suddenly, science became personal. I wanted to use what I was learning—not just for knowledge, but for prevention, for saving lives. My interest in artificial intelligence and biology grew into a mission: to develop AI tools that can assist doctors in detecting diseases earlier and more accurately. At Carnegie Mellon University’s Pre-College program, I studied computational biology and worked with genomic alignment tools. I also began developing an AI project to detect cardiomegaly, or heart enlargement, from medical images. It was not easy—hours of debugging code and adjusting models tested my patience—but I knew why I was doing it. Each step reminded me that technology can give families time, hope, and choices they might otherwise lose. My low-income background has also influenced my aspirations. My parents came to the U.S. from Taiwan, and as first-generation immigrants, they worked long hours in modest jobs to provide for me. College savings were never possible. Instead, I learned to be resourceful: teaching myself with free resources, seeking out programs, and building skills on my own. That resilience became a strength, teaching me persistence and creativity—qualities essential to both research and leadership. At the same time, my background has instilled empathy and a commitment to service. I know what it feels like to lack access to opportunities, so I now tutor other students in SAT prep, many of whom face similar financial barriers. Helping them succeed is my way of giving back and reinforcing the belief that circumstances do not define potential. Together, these experiences—loss, financial struggle, and perseverance—have guided me toward a clear goal: to study computational biology and artificial intelligence, and to use those skills to transform healthcare. I envision working at the intersection of technology and medicine, creating tools that are not only innovative but also accessible to underserved communities who need them most. A scholarship would bring me closer to this vision by reducing the financial barriers that stand between me and higher education. It would allow me to focus on learning, research, and service, rather than worrying about how to afford tuition. Most importantly, it would honor the journey I have taken—turning hardship into motivation, grief into purpose, and limited resources into a drive to expand opportunities for others.

Growing up in a low-income immigrant family has shaped nearly every part of who I am—my outlook, my resilience, and my dreams for the future. My parents came to the United States from Taiwan, carrying hope but little else. They worked long hours in modest jobs to provide stability for me, even when that meant we had to stretch every dollar. I learned early that financial security was not something we could take for granted, but that education and hard work could create opportunities where none seemed to exist. Because of our financial circumstances, I often had to be resourceful. When I needed extra academic support, I couldn’t rely on paid tutoring, so I taught myself through online resources and library books. When I wanted to explore computer science and biology, I looked for free programs, competitions, and research opportunities that would let me learn by doing. This self-reliance gave me not only skills, but also confidence—the belief that if I don’t have a path laid out for me, I can build one myself. At the same time, growing up in a low-income family has taught me empathy. I understand the stress my peers feel when they can’t afford the same resources others take for granted. That is why I dedicate myself to giving back. As an SAT tutor for College Board and Schoolhouse, I work with students from diverse backgrounds, many of whom remind me of myself: ambitious but limited by financial constraints. My role goes beyond teaching test strategies—it’s about showing them that their circumstances do not define their potential. This background has also sharpened my sense of responsibility. When my grandfather passed away from a sudden brain hemorrhage, I couldn’t stop thinking about how different things might have been if early warning signs had been caught. My curiosity about science merged with a personal mission: to use artificial intelligence in healthcare to help families like mine, who often face barriers to affordable, timely medical care. At Carnegie Mellon University’s Pre-College program, I studied computational biology and worked on projects that pushed me closer to this vision. I also developed an AI model to detect cardiomegaly, or heart enlargement, a project that combined my technical skills with my passion for prevention. Living with financial limitations has also shaped my values. I value perseverance, because I’ve seen how small consistent efforts—saving a little, studying a little more, supporting each other as a family—add up to real change. I value humility, because I know success is not just about individual talent, but about community, sacrifice, and opportunity. And most importantly, I value service, because I’ve experienced firsthand how much it matters when someone is willing to share knowledge, encouragement, or even just belief in your potential. Looking forward, I aspire to study computational biology and artificial intelligence in college, then pursue research that bridges healthcare and technology. My dream is to develop tools that make disease detection faster, cheaper, and more accessible, especially for underserved communities. I also hope to continue mentoring younger students, passing on not just academic knowledge but also resilience and hope. A scholarship would be life-changing for me and my family. It would reduce the financial burden of tuition, making it possible for me to focus fully on academics, research, and service instead of worrying about how to pay for each semester. More than that, it would affirm the values I’ve carried with me—that coming from a low-income family is not a limitation, but a source of strength that can inspire me to work harder, dream bigger, and give back more.

My name is Raymond, and I am a senior in high school preparing to pursue computational biology and artificial intelligence in college. I grew up in a Taiwanese immigrant family, and as a first-generation college student in the U.S., I have had to learn how to navigate every academic milestone with limited guidance. This experience has shaped me into someone who is self-motivated, resourceful, and deeply aware of how access—or lack of it—can change the course of a young person’s future. Community has always been important to me, not just as a place where I live, but as a network of people I can support and uplift. Over the past year, I have worked as an SAT tutor through both the College Board and Schoolhouse SAT Bootcamps, helping other high school students prepare for one of the biggest challenges on their path to college. Many of my students come from under-resourced schools or families that cannot afford private tutoring. For me, tutoring is not just about test scores; it is about building confidence and showing them that they are capable of achieving more than they might believe. Beyond academics, I also serve my community through HeartMatters, a nonprofit focused on cardiovascular health education. By creating outreach materials and sharing preventive strategies with families, I have been able to connect my interest in medicine with service. I want to ensure that people—especially in underserved communities—have the knowledge and tools to stay healthy before it is too late. Financial need is a real challenge for my family. My parents work hard, but as immigrants, they did not have the same educational and career opportunities that others might take for granted. Paying for college out of pocket is not possible for us. This scholarship would make an enormous difference by reducing the financial burden and allowing me to focus on my education and research. Without support, I may need to take on significant debt or limit my options, but with it, I could pursue my full potential without compromise. Another issue close to my heart is keeping children and youth safe, both in person and online. Growing up, I saw peers who struggled with bullying—some targeted in classrooms, others through hurtful messages and posts online. I know how damaging these experiences can be, not just to self-esteem but to mental health and safety. As a tutor and mentor, I make it a priority to foster an encouraging environment where students feel respected and heard. When I notice signs of stress or isolation, I take time to check in privately, listen without judgment, and, when necessary, encourage them to seek help from trusted adults. I also share with younger students best practices for staying safe online—being mindful about what they post, understanding privacy settings, and knowing when to block or report harmful behavior. As someone who has spent a lot of time in digital learning environments, I recognize the importance of teaching digital literacy alongside academic skills. No student should feel unsafe while simply trying to learn or connect with peers. Looking forward, I hope to carry these values with me to college and beyond. I want to continue combining technology with compassion—whether by developing AI systems that detect disease earlier, by educating communities about health, or by mentoring younger students to believe in themselves. A scholarship would not only support my journey but also amplify the positive impact I strive to have on others.

My name is Raymond, and I am a senior in high school preparing to enter college next year. I come from a Taiwanese immigrant family where opportunities have not always come easily. As a first-generation U.S. college student, I have had to navigate the education system on my own, balancing academic ambition with family responsibilities and the financial limitations that come with our background. These challenges have not discouraged me—on the contrary, they have fueled my determination to build a future where I can use technology to help others. From a young age, I was fascinated by science and technology. When I lost my grandfather to a sudden brain hemorrhage, my perspective shifted from curiosity to purpose. I began asking myself: could warning signs have been detected earlier? Could technology have given us time to act? Those questions became the foundation of my goal: to develop artificial intelligence systems that can assist doctors in identifying diseases earlier and more accurately, especially for underserved populations who often lack access to quality healthcare. Over the past few years, I have taken every opportunity to turn this vision into action. At Carnegie Mellon University’s Pre-College program, I immersed myself in computational biology—learning how to code genomic alignment tools and troubleshoot experiments late into the night. At the same time, I worked on my own project to detect cardiomegaly, or heart enlargement, using AI. Tuning algorithms and testing models was not always glamorous, but it was deeply rewarding: I was able to see how my skills could translate into tools that save lives. My academic record reflects this commitment. I hold a 4.3211 weighted GPA (3.95 unweighted) and have earned top scores on AP exams in subjects ranging from Calculus BC to Computer Science A. I scored a 1480 on the SAT and plan to retake it this fall. Beyond numbers, I believe what sets me apart is persistence. I never give up on problems, whether it’s debugging a stubborn piece of code or pushing myself to improve in English after moving from Taiwan and facing initial language barriers. I also give back by helping others learn. This summer, I will work as an SAT tutor for the College Board and as a Schoolhouse SAT Bootcamp Math Tutor, where I can share strategies with students who may not have access to expensive test prep. Teaching has reminded me of my own journey—how I struggled, adapted, and grew—and it has given me the chance to support others in finding their confidence. Looking ahead, I hope to study computational biology and artificial intelligence, eventually pursuing research that bridges healthcare and technology. My dream is to work at a place like Google Health or DeepMind, where I can contribute to breakthroughs that make medical care smarter, faster, and more affordable. This scholarship would be a crucial stepping stone toward that future. It would help relieve the financial burden on my family and allow me to dedicate myself fully to my studies and research without the constant worry of how to pay for tuition or living expenses. More than that, it would affirm that students like me—those who come from immigrant families, those who face financial challenges, those who have known loss but refuse to let it define them—deserve the chance to succeed. I want to honor my grandfather’s legacy by staying optimistic, just as he always was, and by transforming my grief into action. With the support of this scholarship, I will continue striving to build technologies that give families more time, more hope, and more tomorrows together.

My prospective major is Computational Biology, with a strong interest in applying artificial intelligence to healthcare. I am drawn to this field because it combines my love of problem-solving with my determination to make a tangible difference in people’s lives. This motivation did not come easily; it was forged through adversity. As the child of Taiwanese immigrants, I grew up watching my parents work tirelessly to provide stability for our family. Their sacrifices instilled in me the belief that education was the surest path forward, but financial hardship meant I would need to push myself to compete for opportunities that were not guaranteed. At times, it felt like the resources and support available to many of my peers were beyond my reach. In addition to financial challenges, I struggled with my own personality and circumstances. I was naturally quiet and introverted, the kind of student who preferred to stay in the background. While others excelled in public speaking or athletics, I often chose books, coding puzzles, or quiet study sessions. My grandfather, however, never let me disappear into the margins. He would pull me into family photos, give me chances to speak, and remind me that growth required stepping out of comfort zones. At the time I resisted, but his lesson became clearer after his sudden passing from a brain hemorrhage. None of us knew about the anomaly in his brain until doctors explained it—something only detectable through MRI. He went for annual checkups but never once scanned his head. That loss was devastating, but it also transformed my curiosity into purpose. I couldn’t stop wondering: what if artificial intelligence could have analyzed his health data and recommended a simple scan? Could his life have been saved? Determined to explore these questions, I began experimenting with publicly available medical datasets. My early programs failed constantly, but I kept going—studying open-source projects, asking questions on forums, and teaching myself through trial and error. Eventually, I built an AI model that distinguished healthy hearts from diseased ones. It was a modest step, but for me it was transformative. I learned that persistence can turn failure into progress, and that even small breakthroughs can build confidence to tackle bigger problems. This experience carried into the classroom and beyond. I became an SAT Bootcamp Math Tutor with Schoolhouse and the College Board, guiding students through material and encouraging them when they felt stuck. Teaching others reminded me that adversity isn’t something to hide from—it’s a chance to grow stronger and help others grow with you. Last summer, I was awarded a full scholarship to Carnegie Mellon University’s Computational Biology Pre-College Program. Traveling across the country, I collected field samples, conducted experiments in the lab, and presented findings to peers and faculty. For someone who once resisted speaking up, standing in front of hundreds to share research marked a turning point. It showed me that I could not only pursue science at a high level, but also share my work with confidence. These adversities—financial constraints, personal loss, and my own quiet nature—have shaped me into someone resilient, curious, and committed to making a difference. They pushed me to turn grief into motivation, self-doubt into persistence, and curiosity into action. With scholarship support, I can continue on this path without the constant barrier of financial stress. I hope to pursue Computational Biology and AI not just as academic interests, but as tools to build early-detection systems and make healthcare more accessible. Adversity has shaped my story, but it will not define its end—I am determined to write that part myself.

Growing up, I learned that opportunity was not something guaranteed. As the child of Taiwanese immigrants, I often watched my parents work long hours to provide for our family. They emphasized education as a path forward, but financial constraints and limited resources made me realize early on that pursuing higher education would require more than just good grades—it would demand persistence, self-motivation, and support. Despite these challenges, I have always been curious about science and determined to push myself further. While other kids spent time on video games, I immersed myself in novels, science channels, and coding experiments. My interest in artificial intelligence grew after taking an online course with The Coding School, where I learned the fundamentals of machine learning. I began practicing with datasets, teaching myself how small changes in parameters could reshape results. This curiosity turned into determination after my grandfather’s sudden passing from a brain hemorrhage. None of us knew about the anomaly in his brain until doctors explained it—something detectable only by MRI. I couldn’t stop thinking about the “what ifs”: what if there had been a way to detect the warning signs earlier? What if technology could have given us a chance to intervene? That moment shifted my focus. I began experimenting with publicly available X-ray heart datasets, struggling at first but eventually building an AI model that distinguished healthy hearts from diseased ones. It was a small step, but it proved to me that knowledge and persistence could create impact. At school, I worked to share that persistence with others. I became an SAT Bootcamp Math Tutor for the College Board’s Schoolhouse program, helping students strengthen their skills and gain confidence. Teaching reminded me that education is not only a personal pursuit, but also a way to lift others. Last summer, I was accepted into Carnegie Mellon University’s Computational Biology Pre-College Program on a full scholarship. Traveling across the country, I spent weeks collecting field samples, conducting lab experiments, and presenting research to peers and faculty. For the first time, I saw what it felt like to step into the shoes of a scientist, and it confirmed my commitment to combining AI and biology to tackle real-world health challenges. But opportunities like these are rare—and they are not accessible to every student with potential. As a first-generation college applicant, I know my family will struggle to afford the rising costs of higher education. Support through this grant would allow me to continue pursuing my goals without the constant worry of financial barriers. It would also affirm what I have learned through every obstacle: that hard work, resilience, and determination can open doors, but resources and support are essential to walk through them. My goal is to study computational biology and artificial intelligence in college and build tools that make preventive healthcare more accessible. With the help of this scholarship, I will continue turning personal hardship into motivation, and motivation into meaningful impact for others.