@samiyahhh_k

When we're young, adults always tell us to 'reach for the stars.' Little do they know, some of us take that sentiment literally when we grow up. As a rising sophomore in Computer Science at UTD, I have taken on various projects, including designing and building a solar panel system for an elementary school garden through the UTD EPICS program. UTD was an obvious choice for me, thanks to its renowned programs and ability to support my passion and ambitions in STEM. Growing up in Houston, it was not uncommon for my family to visit the NASA space center. I became inspired to contribute to life-changing projects. I was thrilled that computer science plays an enormous part at NASA, from mission design and planning to robotics, autonomous systems, and numerous other applications. To work as a software engineer/architect at NASA would be the opportunity of a lifetime for me. While a Master's degree is not a requirement in the tech industry, I plan on working towards one in computer science. Many professors and peers have advised me that having a master's/Ph.D. can significantly enhance my chances of securing the desired positions and make me a more qualified candidate, particularly at competitive organizations like NASA. An internship is a golden ticket for a computer science major. In such a competitive field, laying down roots early on is essential. This summer, I secured a spot in Harmony's Alumni Summer Engineering & Research Internship, collaborating with CodeJoy and Hummingbird for skill-building and certifications. Next summer, I aim to join NASA's STEM internship program, particularly working on the groundbreaking Metaverse Project. I am particularly interested in this research as this project merges hyper-realistic XR environments, blurring the boundaries between the virtual and physical realms and enabling unparalleled exploration. I am immensely grateful to have a father who has always been proactive in my studies. Despite his unstable income, no expense is too great regarding my education. However, I know many girls from my culture are often pressured to prioritize traditional gender roles, such as marriage, over pursuing higher education. I am determined to challenge this cultural mindset and prove that young women can pursue education and careers without relying on a male counterpart. This cultural bias also manifests within the tech industry, which remains predominantly male-dominated. Women who break into this industry often face challenges like being overshadowed by their male counterparts. Throughout my academic journey, I have observed that coding and computer-related activities predominantly target young boys. This observation became evident during my senior year of high school. In my AP Computer Science A class, I was the sole girl in 20, including the male teacher. This experience was not only isolating but also disheartening. I am resolute in my commitment to be at the forefront of the transformation, inspiring and empowering young girls by demonstrating that computers and technology are not exclusively for boys and showcasing the potential for women to have successful careers in the tech industry, enabling them to achieve remarkable and life-changing feats. As a woman in STEM, I am fully aware of the challenges ahead. However, I am excited and optimistic about the countless opportunities that await me after graduation. This scholarship opportunity has evoked a profound sense of gratitude within me. Even if I am not selected as a recipient, reflecting on my journey during this writing experience has reaffirmed why I chose to pursue a computer science education. It has rekindled my enthusiasm as I envision the goals I have already achieved and the ambitious ones that lie ahead. I wholeheartedly express my gratitude. Thank you.

In a world where technology is continuously improving, medicine has gained a fantastic advantage, and we have reached the point where a robot can operate on patients. Surgical robots will significantly enhance the future of brain surgery and lead to new major medical innovations. Trialed robots that have already been used in surgeries have considerably improved the operations’ accuracy and reduced their risks, making surgeries more minimally invasive and allowing more patients to become eligible candidates for neurosurgery. Surgical robots will even open the doors for remote surgery to become a reality. Scientists have observed surgical robots significantly increase the surgeon’s accuracy and make the operation less risky. Having steady hands is a rare yet critical skill for operating as a brain surgeon. Brain tissue is sensitive, and one wrong cut can permanently damage the patient. With a surgical robot, the surgeon can control the cuts the robot makes. Scientists have created a surgical robot that makes incisions reported to be “accurate to one-thousandth of a millimeter” using technology from Nasa. Considering that most neurosurgeons only have about millimeter accuracy, as they have to rely on sight alone, the surgeon has a much more significant margin of accuracy, and the side effects related to the surgery are reduced significantly. The cuts made are much more precise, and there is no need for the surgeon to worry about shaky hands during surgery. More patients can be made candidates for surgeries they were rejected for before. Since surgical robots have made procedures more minimally invasive, this provides an opportunity for patients with severe neurological conditions that were too risky to operate safely. Their only recommendation was to treat with chemotherapy. With robotic aid, doctors are more comfortable performing surgeries that they previously felt were too much for the patient to handle. An example would be an operation in Quetta, Pakistan, where surgeons used a robot to operate on a patient through their cheek instead of going directly into their skull. Surgical robots will open the doors for remote surgery to become a reality. Eventually, technology will allow surgeons to operate from another hospital via a robotic interface. This innovation will potentially save countless lives and allow world-class surgeons to operate on patients that could take too much of an extended amount of time to reach. Every person in the medical field knows minutes can be the difference between life and death. Automation will provide cutting-edge techniques that will crucially improve brain operations to come. By allowing surgeons to make more accurate incisions, neurosurgery will become more minimally invasive and pose fewer risks to the patients. Robots may even grant remote surgery the possibility of becoming tangible. As technology continues to move forward, the world of medicine will move along with it, leading to a myriad of medical revelations and conceptions.

As a person with moderate stage fright and fear of public speaking, it was an understatement to say that I was not pleased to find that I was placed in Theatre I. Our first major assignment was a dramatic reading of a song or poem of our choice. Up until this point I had gotten away with hiding behind someone during presentations, but this was a solo act. I had to stand on that daunting, frighting, almost petrifying stage on my own with no one to shield me. My palms were damp with sweat and my entire body was covered in tiny goosebumps. I shakily stepped onto the stage and walked to the center. My teacher gave me a reassuring smile and nodded. “Begin.” I never looked up from the paper I was reading off of, and once I was finished I practically ran off the stage, almost tripping in the process. A couple of people clapped, probably only out of pity. I walked out of that class with an 85 for the day and a solidified conclusion that I would never pursue theatre as a major in college. Around Christmas time, our second major assignment was announced. I was actually looking forward to this project since it involved plays. We broke off into groups and discussed roles. Each group needed a director, a playwright, and actors. I immediately volunteered to be a playwright, not only to avoid being on stage but also because I actually enjoyed writing creatively. We all got to work, planning the story, designing backgrounds, and choosing costumes. About a week into the project, our teacher mentioned a detail about the assignment that I carelessly missed. “Each person needs to have their own part in the play, even the director and playwright.” Every ounce of excitement I had up until that moment turned into utter dread. Performing in front of the class was one thing. I know most of their names, and all of them knew that I had absolutely no skill for acting. An actual audience, however, would not be aware of that. They would be expecting someone who could actually act. Someone who would project their voice loud enough for the whole room to hear, who would stand on the stage and not stare down at their shoes, and who wouldn’t use another person as a human shield. That person was most definitely not me. In the days leading up to the date of the production, my heart threatened to pop out of me at any moment like a jack-in-the-box. No matter how many times my friends reassured me that everything would go smoothly, I just couldn’t shake off the fear that something, even the tiniest thing would go wrong and I would completely humiliate myself. On the day of the performance, my nerves were at an all-time high. This was the day that the story and the characters would finally come to life in front of a real audience. Before we were queued to go on, I was, once again, unsuccessfully trying to get control of my breathing when I looked over at my group members. I was surprised to see they each had their own case of nerves as well. I doubt that they were nearly as scared as I was, but seeing that I wasn’t the only one with nerves helped me breathe a little better. Just then, our cue was called. I grabbed the ounce of newfound confidence and ran with it onto the stage. By the middle of the play, I was able to push aside most of my fear and carry on with my performance. In the end, we were given a standing ovation, and I was able to breathe normally again. As we exited the stage, the reality of what I had just accomplished hit me. I had just acted in front of dozens of people and didn’t trip, fall down, or vomit. I left school that day unscathed and in complete awe of what I had accomplished. Looking back, Theatre Arts still would not be something I would pursue in the future, but I’m glad I took it my freshman year. It gave me a chance to face my stage fright head-on, and even though my fear hasn’t completely vanished, I have been able to bring myself to participate in things that I wouldn’t have before. Taking theatre was not a mistake, but rather an experience that I will always be grateful for.

Standing in front of my vanity mirror, I stared down a length of fabric that I cradled in my hands. After much reflection, I started to wrap that fabric over my head and then around my neck. As I lifted my eyes, a wave of fear came over me. There was a chance to rip the scarf from my head. I knew well that if I were to walk out my door, I would be susceptible to so much. So much comes from this simple piece of fabric. You are openly labeling yourself, exposing yourself to questions and stereotypes, and the most frightening of all, you become a representation. Juggling all of these uncertainties, I battled every day with the idea to stop wearing my hijab until on the way to school one day; I noticed that my younger sisters were wearing their prayer scarves. They explained that they wanted to wear them to school, just like I did. I was perplexed, but then I recalled why I began to wear one. One of my friends at the time inspired me. Although she was repeatedly discouraged by her parents, she started wearing a hijab to school. I asked her what influenced her decision: Although she had come across multiple obstacles, including ruthless nicknames and racial remarks, she managed to overcome them all, focusing more on how she viewed herself, rather than how everyone else views her. Individuality was an essential part of her identity, and I yearned for that. I realized I could turn all my vulnerability into strength. I desired to be a positive influence for my sisters, as my friend had been for me. The scarf that I had held in my trembling hands no longer incites fear in me. It now symbolizes the character I have obtained.

I’ve made a mistake. That sentence must have run through my head at least a thousand times as I sat in my first Theatre Arts class. I didn’t feel this way when I first walked into the class. I was calm, relaxed, maybe even a little excited. When I was choosing my classes for freshman year, I expected that theatre would be a class full of options. You would have the option to write a play instead of performing in it. You would have the option to direct a musical instead of singing in it. You would have the option to watch backstage instead of being on the stage. That was my expectation when I first walked into my Theatre Arts class, and that expectation was quickly shattered and flushed down the drain when the teacher announced that everyone was expected to perform in front of audiences throughout the year. I was no longer calm or relaxed. I was now terrified. I’ve made a mistake. I’ve made a mistake. I’ve made a mistake. About a month into the fall quarter, we were scheduled to put on our first official play. To say I was terrified was an understatement. An audience would be expecting someone who could actually act. Someone who would project their voice loud enough for the whole room to hear, who would stand on the stage and not stare down at their shoes, and who wouldn’t use another person as a human shield. That person was most definitely not me. On the day of the performance, I was a bundle of nerves. Right before we were queued to go on, I was unsuccessfully trying to get control of my breathing when I looked over at my group members. I was surprised to see they each had their own case of nerves as well. I doubt that they were nearly as scared as I was, but seeing that I wasn’t the only one feeling nervous about performing helped me breathe a little better. Just then, our cue was called. I grabbed the ounce of newfound confidence I had and ran with it onto the stage. Between each scene, that little morsel of confidence threatened to run away from me, but I held onto it with a firm grip. By the middle of the play, I was able to push aside most of my fear and carry on with my performance. In the end, we were given a standing ovation, and I was able to breathe normally again. As we exited the stage, the reality of what I had just accomplished hit me. I had just acted in front of dozens of people and didn’t trip, fall down, or vomit. I left school that day unscathed and in complete awe of myself. Looking back, Theatre Arts still would not be something I would pursue in the future, but I’m glad I took it my freshman year. It gave me a chance to face my stage fright head-on, and even though my fear hasn’t completely vanished, I have been able to bring myself to participate in things that I wouldn’t have before. Taking theatre was not a mistake, but rather an experience that I will always be grateful for.