I was raised between two worlds: one I claimed and another I keep going back to. When my family came to the United States, the only things we had were hope, resilience, and the unspoken wounds of our sacrifice. My parents had both been professionals in our home country. They were not the same people anymore, now that they had to forge a new identity in an alien land. My mother was a physician and my father, an engineer. They weren't well educated here, but they took on labour jobs and technical work, not because they were ignorant but because they didn't have American credentials.
Watching them struggle was like watching brilliance behind glass—always apparent, never quite within reach. Their sacrifice was my inheritance. And in it, I learned the strength, the ambition, and the unbreakable will to break the glass not only for myself, but for all the girls who are invisible in the world of science and technology.
As a financially-disadvantaged, woman-identifying student of color, I have entered too many rooms. I have entered too many doors that have indicated to me that I did not belong—where I was positioned in STEM before my ability was ever challenged. But, I have never allowed anyone else's inability to believe in me and my capabilities to define my path. I have fought through late nights studying under flickering lights for days on end when the power turned off, learned to code on borrowed computers, and sometimes ate school lunch when the only thing in our fridge was air. But these struggles did not inhibit me; they defined my purpose.
I am really excited about computer engineering, because it enables me to engineer solutions that go beyond borders, languages and even privilege. Technology doesn't care where you are from; it cares about curiosity, creativity, and tenacity. I want to create hardware systems that democratize medical diagnosis to low resource populations, both here in the USA and the villages my parents used to live in. For me, engineering is not a career; it's a bridge between where I came from and where I want to go.
There were moments I almost gave up. I remember one winter when my mom came home late, exhausted from a 14-hour shift, her hands blistered and face pale. She handed me a small used tablet someone at her job no longer needed. “For your coding,” she whispered, like it was treasure. And to me, it was. That moment reminded me that every ounce of my effort mattered—that even in our darkest seasons, my family’s love and belief in my future burned like a quiet, unwavering light.
My obstacles have taught me how to forge, and reconcile, polarized relationships towards positive, equitable outcomes. I've organized STEM workshops for young girls in marginalized neighborhoods since I know how important it is to see someone that looks like you doing what you aspire to do. I have mentored and tutored my peers who thought they didn't have it in them - I thought the same at one point. Regardless of how many times I was knocked down, I've reclaimed my value and restoryed my life.
I am proud of the young woman I'm becoming. I used to feel invisible, but as of late, I realize that being "visible" is more than just being seen, it's being heard, valued, and being able to be a conduit for other people rising too. I want to become not just the engineer that builds efficient systems, but the engineer who builds access—for communities that have historically been shut out from innovation. I want to create affordable diagnostic tools, accessibility in remote learning technology, and inclusivity in design.
Eric W. Larson fully believed in the potential of women in science. That belief is not just inspirational for me, but personal. My Dad once told me, “Every time you build, you rebuild a piece of our dreams too.” This scholarship is more than just an asset in terms of money towards my education; it will be a powerful vehicle to elevate the voices of two immigrant parents who never wavered in their belief in their daughter's potential.
I can see my future where I will be privileged to work for NVIDIA designing advanced hardware that builds toward tomorrow's sustainable AI technologies. But just as significantly, I can see a future when I'm mentoring, uplifting, and raising the visibility of the next generation of underrepresented and voiceless innovators.
I want a heartbeat for my career. I want every object that I designed to have a story—a story not simply about code and circuit, but about the girl who decided to learn to build after a world told her she did not belong. I want to walk into boardrooms with courage, classrooms with kindness, and underresourced communities with intention.
And this is not just about giving money for college; this is about building a legacy of resilience, equity, and purpose, and I am eager to do this with my full and happy heart.