My dad did not understand English, and he did not have a formal education, but he still sat with me at the table and helped me with my math homework. He could not read my textbooks or explain things the way a teacher would, but he would work through problems with me slowly, relying on logic instead of memorization. There was something steady about that process, because even when everything else felt confusing, math was something we could meet in the middle of. It did not require perfect language, and it did not require a perfect background, it only required patience. That is where my understanding of math began, not as something abstract, but as something grounded and shared. For a long time, it felt predictable. You followed steps, you reached an answer, and you could trust that it was correct. Calculus changed that for me. It was the first time math stopped being about arriving at a single answer and instead became about understanding how something changes while it is happening. At first, that made it feel less certain, but over time, it started to feel more accurate, because it reflected the way real systems actually behave. That is why I think calculus is important in STEM. Most of what we study is not fixed. The human body is constantly adjusting, diseases develop and shift over time, and even simple motion is always changing in ways that cannot be captured in a single moment. Calculus provides a way to follow that change instead of ignoring it, which makes our understanding more complete, even if it is harder to reach. It also changes the way you think. Instead of focusing only on what something is, you begin to think about how it evolves, how quickly it changes, and what factors influence it along the way. In fields like neuroscience or medicine, which I am interested in, that perspective is essential. Neurons do not fire in isolation, and conditions do not appear all at once. They develop, interact, and build over time, and understanding that process requires more than memorization. What I appreciate most about calculus is that it requires the same kind of patience my dad showed me when I was younger. It does not always make sense immediately, and it forces you to stay with an idea longer than you might want to. That difficulty is not a flaw, but part of what makes it valuable, because it prepares you for the kind of thinking that STEM actually demands. As a first-generation student pursuing healthcare, I know that I will be working with systems that are constantly changing and often unpredictable. Patients are not static problems, and their conditions cannot be understood through a single snapshot. Calculus builds the ability to approach those situations with care and attention, rather than rushing toward an oversimplified answer. I do not think calculus is important because everyone will directly use its formulas. I think it is important because it reflects how the world actually works. It teaches you to follow change, to be patient with complexity, and to trust that understanding comes from staying in the process. That is something I first learned sitting at a table with my dad, and it is something I continue to carry with me as I move forward in STEM.

My name is Roxana Mousavi, and I recently graduated from Upland High School. I’m excited to attend UCLA this fall, where I plan to study psychology. As the first in my family to pursue higher education, I am passionate about mental health, particularly within BIPOC communities, where access to care and cultural understanding are often lacking. My experiences in high school have shaped my commitment to making a difference in this area. During my high school years, I learned that mental health is deeply interconnected with community, support systems, and accessibility. Through my volunteer work and personal experiences, I’ve seen how mental health struggles are often compounded by isolation, cultural stigmas, and a lack of resources. At the Shima Hadidchi Medical Clinic, I observed how patients struggled with mental health issues but were hesitant to seek help due to cultural stigmas or uncertainty about available resources. However, I also noticed how many Iranian patients were excited to see that I spoke their language and understood their issues in a way others could not. This experience taught me the importance of culturally competent care and the need for mental health services that are accessible and inclusive. In addition to my work at the clinic, my involvement in community service and leadership roles further deepened my understanding of mental health. As Vice President of KindQuest, a community service-oriented club, I played a role in organizing events and initiatives that promoted mental well-being. For example, we organized activities that encouraged peer support and connection, which helped reduce feelings of isolation among students. This experience taught me that mental health thrives in environments where individuals feel connected, understood, and supported by their peers and community. I also volunteered at the Upland Public Library, where I helped plan and implement programs that provided a safe space for individuals to engage, learn, and connect. This role strengthened my belief that mental well-being is linked to having strong support systems and accessible resources. Whether through educational programs, community events, or simple acts of kindness, creating environments where people feel valued and supported can have a positive impact on their mental health. In the years to come, I plan to apply these lessons by advocating for more inclusive and accessible mental health care, particularly for marginalized communities. I will focus on developing culturally competent approaches to mental health care and work to create environments where mental health is prioritized and supported. I hope to contribute to a future where everyone has access to the mental health care they need in order to grow.

In my family, Turkish dramas are believed to be the greatest form of entertainment. Gatherings at any house involve either a series always playing in the background or everyone surrounding the television with wide eyes and readied gasps. As kids, my cousins and I would laugh at the over-the-top clichés in the shows. It wouldn't truly be a Turkish film without the death of every character, the love shared between a filthy rich man and his struggling servant, or a shocking twist that everyone is somehow related. To emphasize the absurdities to our parents, we decided one day to create our own satirical drama. Our short film was modeled after the movie "Ikimizin Yerine", which follows a girl from a small village and her literature teacher. The two share a forbidden love that allows the girl to embark on a quest of self-discovery as well. Though a moving story, the movie still displayed clichés we were looking for. Our own adaptation of it became our family's favorite. Everyone's excitement at seeing themselves on the screen pushed me towards a desire to recreate that atmosphere. I began to look at the world through the lens of a filmmaker, seeing parks as sets and pets as actors. My notebooks were filled with ideas for my next piece and scripts I'd force my little sister to memorize with me. As my passion grew, I became involved in filmmaking programs. I learned to focus on subjects other than myself and my family, and it showed me how to work well in stressful situations and with different types of people. For instance, children would require incentives to read lines, and could not work for long periods of time. Some adults would similarly not listen, insisting their take on their character should override the written scripts. Dealing with such challenges taught me how to better control my thoughts and keep calm in overwhelming moments. Collaborating with those around me meant speaking to them from a place of understanding, and this translated into other areas of my life as well. Academically, it was seen through a stronger ability to communicate with peers and succeed in group work. I understood not to stress over mistakes or issues, but rather work together to overcome them. Filmmaking has always been my way of expressing my creative side, but it has also taught me crucial lessons. Despite how I made fun of it, "Ikimizin Yerine" sparked a passion that will have a significant impact on the rest of my life.

After counting to ten, I opened my eyes to see a little girl standing right in front of me, with only a pillow blocking my view of her. Due to her undeveloped theory of mind, she fully believed I could not see her just because she could not see me. In AP Psychology, I was given an assignment to interview a four-year-old girl, Ellie, to better understand developmental psychology and the stages of how the mind evolves. Ellie was sweet and full of enthusiasm, making her a joy to work with. I watched and took notes on her responses to the tests I presented to her, such as the failed hide-and-seek game. The test that stood out to me the most regarded her moral reasoning. It made me begin to wonder, at what point are our values formed? I found that Ellie made choices based on concrete punishments and rewards. She had neither a real idea of societal approval that motivates older children, nor self-defined ethical principles that reflect higher age groups. Ellie eagerly claimed that she would take candy from her friends if her parents had no knowledge of it, or would steal a cookie from her brother if no one would find out. My personal favorite was when I asked what she would do if she saw her friend being bullied at school: "I'd go home and pet my puppy!" Ellie's answers, along with psychological theories such as modeling and conditioning, prompted me to explore the idea of morality being shaped. What is the extent to an environment's impact on childrens' behaviors? Do individuals learn their principles through modeling adults around them, or are they conditioned to follow certain standards? In AP Research, I have furthered this interest by developing a paper on it to support my thoughts. My study explores the belief that people form their ideals based on external influences, specifically exposure to media violence. I am conducting interviews and surveys to determine the correlation between the two, and will use my background research from similar fields to work towards unraveling the psychology of morality.