An unexpected influence on my high school life was my volleyball team. I ran cross country throughout middle school and fully expected to continue, but due to a coaching change I found myself at freshman volleyball tryouts in September. I had zero experience and had always done individual sports. I was gangly and awkward and had no control over my body, but my coach saw what she likes to call “libero potential”. She drilled me for three years - three years of painful bruises, long hours, and frustrating stints as a bench-warmer. At times I wanted to quit - I was not familiar with being unsuccessful, and my years as a good student had not prepared me for what it took to be a good athlete. Nevertheless, I persisted. I went to every extra practice, played out of season, and regularly talked to my coach to see what I could do better. I became a captain and varsity starter my senior year, and even though I wasn’t the best on the team, I had to do my part. I did not want to be the weakest link on our admittedly successful team. Through volleyball, I learned a multitude of skills I use every day - coachability, how to be a good teammate, how to be a good leader, persistence. Most importantly, I learned the intricacies of not face-planting on the floor when a hard ball comes my way - both in the game and in life.

When asked to describe myself, I usually fall back on three adjectives: geek, feminist, and Gryffindor. When asked to explain myself further, I expand: I am a sister, a daughter, a scientist, a bookwork, a leader, and a woman. Throughout my life, I have been surrounded by strong women who have inspired me to reach for the stars: my mother, grandmothers, sisters, teachers, and coaches have never placed limits on me because of my gender. They also taught me that I didn't need to box myself into one area of interest: I am still a scientist, even when I am reading Tolstoy’s detailed parties or Dickinson’s edgy prose. I am passionate about educating people about science, especially young girls. In my early education, science and math were considered “boy” subjects, and I was often ridiculed for my interest in the solar system or chemical reactions. I feel very strongly that teachers are the backbone on which our society is built - my teachers have taught me some of life’s greatest lessons and have been my biggest cheerleaders. I would like to be able to help give back to my community and help other kids like my teachers have helped me. I was first exposed to the idea of exciting young girls about science during my PBGR project I completed in my junior year. We were encouraged to combine our interests in a project that would benefit our community. I decided to write and publish a children’s book that detailed the history of women in STEM fields. I also shared the book with our local elementary schools and did a virtual read-aloud with them. I will never forget the look on one little girl’s face when she declared that she would be the first person on Mars. That interaction cemented the appeal of community outreach for me and I want to be able to provide encouragement for all girls interested in science. I am also interested in a more specific intersection of my interests : health care. Biology is the basis of medicine - one cannot treat the human body without understanding it first. Just like the body, the history and the mechanics of health care must be understood before they can be altered. My parents have always raised me to use my privilege to help others in need, as they were once underdogs in the game of life. My mother is a first-generation American with a disabled brother; my father was raised on food stamps in a single parent household. I am passionate about resolving the healthcare crisis in this country, and my college education will help me achieve this goal.

It was the second week of January 2020. A year and a half into my science fair project, which I (quite literally) poured my blood, sweat, and tears into. I was growing an amoeba and testing its survivability with various amounts of glyphosate. It had taken long enough to draft my procedure, obtain approval for the materials, and set up my experiment under the watchful eye of my teacher and mentor, Dr. Souness. The amoeba, Physarum polycephalum, needed to be ordered from a ; the first shipment had died enroute, courtesy of New England weather. I had just arrived in our lab room to check on the incubators. I opened the door, received a whiff of the bacteria smell, and...no growth. I was crushed - my timeline was already tight, and it was extremely possible that my research would not be completed in time. Dr. Souness, always astute, noticed my defeated expression. He walked over to me and peered into the incubator. “Well, that’s a bummer,” he said. “What’s next?” Exasperated, I said “I don’t know.” He spoke again - something I’ll never forget. “Science isn’t for wimps, Sam. And you’re not a wimp. Think.” Whether his British accent or another force inspired me, I did just that - I thought. I worked for another hour, bouncing ideas back and forth with him and drawing diagrams on the whiteboard. Eventually, I came up with a solution - not the one I wanted initially, but the one that worked. This experience forced me to grow in is my ability to adapt to change. Whether it's adjusting my volleyball team’s merch due to shortages or getting last pick for our author analysis in English , I have been able to adapt and evolve thanks to some inspiring words from my scientific sensei.

In 1989, my parents applied to Northeastern University. My mother is a first-generation American and college student with a disabled brother; my father was raised on food stamps in a single parent household. Both were able to work through college and afford their tuition, graduating with relatively little debt. If they were to apply to college now, it would be impossible for them to afford it. As society has changed, educational inequity has evolved into a beast that is very hard to avoid. There are very few students who do not stress over paying for college. In my opinion, a developed country like the United States should make a college education accessible to everyone. So many issues in our country could be resolved by educating the masses and making sure student loan debt does not hold anyone back. Although some fret about raised taxes, it is possible to avoid large increases in taxes by adjusting the government budget to pay for at least a portion of all public education. My parents have always raised me to use my privilege to help others in need, as they were once underdogs in the game of life. However, my passion for helping others is not completely reliant on their influence. In my eyes, we cannot advance as a society without providing equity of opportunity. By placing everyone on even ground, we can allow people to thrive, regardless of their situation.

When I first ventured into the “8th Grade Only” section of my middle school library, I thought I would be reading a controversial novel. Perhaps The Hunger Games or Lolita. Instead, I walked out with a historical fiction novel with an unassuming cover and a captivating name - The Book Thief. I never would have guessed the impact this novel had on my life, nor the lasting questions it has left me with. It follows the adolescence of a German girl, Lisel, in World War II. This plot line is not particularly unique - the remarkable part of this novel is that Death is the narrator. As a child, my biggest fear was death. I could not comprehend the idea of closing my eyes and never opening them again. I questioned the importance of life - was life even worth living if death was inevitable? This book changed that idea. Death even says “I am not malicious. I am a result”. At some times, Death even roots for the underdogs - in this case, for Lisel's family and the Jewish man they are hiding. This book inspired me to look at life from a new perspective - as an experience humans are profoundly lucky to have. The characters managed to find joy even in the worst of times - as their streets were bombed, they shared stories in a shelter. As they were starving, they took joy from a game of soccer in the street. The book taught me to take nothing for granted and to enjoy the time I had, as you never know when a bomb could decimate everyone you know - the tragic but realistic ending of Lisel’s story. It made me realize that Death was not something to fear - as “even Death has a heart”.

When I first ventured into the “8th Grade Only” section of my middle school library, I thought I would be reading a controversial novel. Perhaps The Hunger Games or Lolita. Instead, I walked out with a historical fiction novel with an unassuming cover and a captivating name - The Book Thief. I never would have guessed the impact this novel had on my life, nor the lasting questions it has left me with. It follows the adolescence of a German girl, Lisel, in World War II. This plotline is not particularly unique - the remarkable part of this novel is that Death is the narrator. As a child, my biggest fear was death. I could not comprehend the idea of closing my eyes and never opening them again. I questioned the importance of life - was life even worth living if death was inevitable? This book changed that idea. Death even says “I am not malicious. I am a result”. At some times, Death even roots for the underdogs - in this case, for Lisel's family and the Jewish man they are hiding. This book inspired me to look at life from a new perspective - as an experience humans are profoundly lucky to have. The characters managed to find joy even in the worst of times - as their streets were bombed, they shared stories in a shelter. As they were starving, they took joy from a game of soccer in the street. The book taught me to take nothing for granted and to enjoy the time I had, as you never know when a bomb could decimate everyone you know - the tragic but realistic ending of Lisel’s story. It also made me realize that Death was not something to fear - for “even Death has a heart”.