Legacy, defined as something handed down from one generation to the next, is a concept that holds immense value, especially in our STEM community. The advancements in STEM have profoundly shaped our world, driving progress and improving the quality of life. The legacy in STEM is not merely about the transfer of knowledge and skills but also the perpetuation of curiosity, innovation, and ethical standards. One of the primary aspects of legacy in STEM is the transfer of knowledge and skills. The rapid evolution of technology and scientific understanding means that each generation builds upon the discoveries and innovations of the previous one. This cumulative knowledge accelerates progress and leads to unimaginable breakthroughs of the previous generations. For me, legacy isn’t a child that carries their parent’s torch, legacy is the byproduct of mentorship. Mentorship plays a crucial role in this knowledge transfer. Experienced professionals guide newcomers, helping them navigate complex concepts and develop critical thinking skills. My personal experience with Dr. Lee, my math professor at Montgomery College, exemplifies this. He mentored me through the process of solving a challenging mathematical problem, turning abstract concepts into tangible understanding. Not only did we solve the problem together, but he gave me the tools needed for me to solve future problems. The legacy of STEM also encompasses the fostering of innovation and creativity. Each generation is tasked with solving new problems and improving upon existing solutions. By building on the work of their predecessors, they can push the boundaries of what is possible. This iterative process of innovation is crucial for addressing the complex challenges of the modern world, from climate change to medical advancements. The legacy in STEM also involves building a collaborative and inclusive community. Diverse perspectives and experiences are essential for driving innovation and addressing global challenges. Ensuring that the products of innovation are accessible to all, regardless of background. Mentorship can play a pivotal role in promoting inclusivity. By providing support and guidance to underrepresented groups, mentors help level the playing field and ensure that diverse talents are recognized and nurtured. This leads to a more robust and innovative STEM community, capable of tackling a wide array of problems with comprehensive and inclusive solutions. Legacy in STEM is invaluable for the continued progress and ethical advancement of society. Through the transfer of knowledge, fostering of innovation, and building of inclusive communities, the legacy ensures that each generation is better equipped to address the challenges of their time. As we continue to mentor and support the next generation of STEM professionals, we not only honor the contributions of those who came before us but also pave the way for a brighter future for humankind.

My experience with financial education has been rewarding and has really influenced how I handle money. My experiences, which span from structured coursework to real-world budgeting techniques, all add to my comprehensive understanding of money. At Cornell University, I studied the intricacies of the financial markets during a summer course. The many techniques to avoid losses and the unpredictable nature of markets were effectively highlighted by this course. A solid foundation for comprehending how outside influences might affect investments was provided by the lessons on risk management, diversification, and market analysis. I now emphasize the value of a well-balanced and diversified portfolio in my investing selections and am much more careful and strategic as a result of this knowledge. My understanding of finance was expanded via an online course from Rice University that taught me important accounting topics in addition to my summer course. I gained knowledge of several accounting concepts, balance sheets, interest computations, and future value discounts. These ideas are essential for managing personal finances as well as accounting. My ability to effectively analyze my financial health and make educated decisions has been enhanced by my ability to read and interpret financial statements. Equipped with this understanding, I pledge to put these ideas into practice while I'm a student at the University of Michigan. One of my main money habits is to create a budget by using the 50/30/20 guideline. This guideline allots 50% of my income to necessities, 30% to wants, and 20% to debt repayment and savings. Creating a sizable emergency fund is yet another essential component of my financial plan. Because life is unpredictable, unforeseen costs can come up at any time. By keeping three to six months' worth of expenses in an emergency fund, I may be ready for any financial unforeseen bills and avoid taking on high-interest debt. With the security and comfort this fund offers, I can concentrate stress-free on my education and long-term financial objectives. The value of having a diversified investing portfolio was emphasized to me throughout my time at Cornell University. Using stocks, bonds, and other assets in a well-balanced portfolio is how I intend to put this into practice. By making early and regular investments, I will be able to take advantage of compound interest's power and increase my long-term financial security. My financial education experiences have given me a philosophy of constant learning and growth in addition to imparting useful knowledge. I'm going to keep honing my 50/30/20 budgeting techniques. Maintaining a regular review and tweaking of my budget will help me to stay on track with my financial objectives. Making money a priority, especially increasing my emergency fund, will be important. In addition, I'll use Cornell's teachings on risk management and diversification to create a strong investing portfolio. Long-term growth will depend on consistent payments to my investment accounts, which include retirement funds like a Roth IRA. The process of financial education never ends. I want to continue my education, read widely, and attend seminars in order to stay current on financial trends, new investment options, and sophisticated financial methods. My journey towards financial education, which encompassed the online course from Rice University and the summer session at Cornell University, has given me invaluable knowledge about risk management, key accounting principles, and the unpredictability of the market. Following the 50/30/20 budgeting guideline, accumulating a sizeable emergency fund, and assembling a diverse investment portfolio have equipped me to handle money wisely both now and in the future. These actions will clear the path for a safe and bright future in addition to ensuring my financial security.

I’m more of a Discrete Math guy myself, but I can’t argue the genius of Gottfried Leibniz. Many people remember the struggles of trig-integration and the quotient rule, me too, but I also remember the fun of optimization, L'Hôpital's rule, and infinite series. Calculus is used extensively in the physical sciences. It enables scientists to characterize the dynamics of systems that change constantly. In physics, calculus is used to describe motion, heat, light, electricity, and magnetism. Calculus plays an important role in both Newton's laws of motion and Einstein's theory of relativity. Calculus allows you to derive equations of motion, compute object trajectories, and grasp wave and field properties. Without calculus, it would be difficult to model physical processes precisely and predictably. Engineering relies heavily on calculus to construct and analyze systems. Calculus allows engineers to model and anticipate the behavior of systems under different conditions. For example, in civil engineering, calculus is used to calculate the forces and stresses on structures such as bridges and buildings. In electrical engineering, it is useful for circuit analysis and signal processing. Mechanical engineers utilize calculus to simulate the behavior of machines and materials. Calculus gives mathematical tools for optimizing designs, assuring efficiency and safety in engineering projects. Engineering relies heavily on calculus to construct and analyze systems. Calculus allows engineers to model and anticipate the behavior of systems under different conditions. For example, in civil engineering, calculus is used to calculate the forces and stresses on structures such as bridges and buildings. In electrical engineering, it is useful for circuit analysis and signal processing. Mechanical engineers utilize calculus to simulate the behavior of machines and materials. Calculus gives mathematical tools for optimizing designs, assuring efficiency and safety in engineering projects. Calculus is used in biology and medicine to understand complicated systems and mimic biological processes. Calculus, for instance, is useful in pharmacokinetics to comprehend how medications pass through the body and how their concentrations alter over time. Differential equations, a basic calculus topic, are utilized in population biology to simulate population growth and interactions. Calculus is also essential for reconstructing images from raw data in medical imaging systems like MRIs and CT scans. In order to model and optimize economic behavior, calculus is also essential in the fields of finance and economics. It aids in the comprehension and forecasting of changes in economic factors. Calculus is the foundation for ideas like elasticity, marginal revenue, and marginal cost. Calculus is used in finance to price complicated financial derivatives and to model the behavior of financial markets. Making educated decisions about investments, risk management, and policy is made easier with the aid of these programs. Calculus improves analytical thinking and problem-solving abilities beyond particular applications. Acquiring knowledge of calculus enhances students' comprehension of mathematical ideas and strengthens their capacity to approach challenging problems methodically. This kind of analytical skillset is extremely useful in any STEM career where exact problem-solving and creativity are essential. Calculus's many applications and capacity to represent and resolve intricate, dynamic systems make it a fundamental subject in the STEM fields. Its significance extends to the biological, medical, engineering, economics, and physical sciences. Calculus is a necessary subject in each STEM program because it gives STEM workers the skills they need to create, optimize, and comprehend the world around them.

Good Will Hunting, one hand isn’t enough to count how many times I’ve watched this movie while battling stage 4 cancer. This is the summary of the movie written by Chat-GPT: "Good Will Hunting," a 1997 film directed by Gus Van Sant and written by Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, has had a profound positive impact on both audiences and the film industry. Its powerful narrative, exceptional performances, and deep exploration of complex themes have resonated with viewers, offering inspiration and insight. But to me, Good Will Hunting is way more than a “powerful narrative”. Through the story of Will, a janitor at MIT, who also happens to be a self-taught genius. The film develops his journey from a troubled youth to a person confronting his inner demons. Through many sessions with therapists, many mathematical discussions, many dates, and many hangouts with friends, Will seems to be battling the change in his lifestyle and the good that’s coming to him. Though I’m not a mathematical genius, the movie uniquely spoke to me. Will was too caught up in what was happening in his life, too worried about the changes that might be coming for him, to notice the good that was developing around him. But in the end, he was willing to make the change, ditch everything behind, and “go see about a girl”. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, and the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel. In a way, I also found the good around me, even during a time of darkness. The film also underscores the importance of mentorship and human connection. Sean’s relationship with Will is a testament to the positive impact a caring mentor can have on an individual’s life. This dynamic demonstrates that true mentorship involves not just imparting knowledge, but also offering empathy, understanding, and emotional support. Viewers are reminded of the significant role that mentors can play in helping them realize their potential and navigate life’s challenges. The connection between Sean and Will gives me a lot of hope for connections between me and the professors I will have at the University of Michigan. I look forward to the development of my life and career with the help of those professors.

While recovering from the aftershock of my first treatment, the thought of learning Python crept into my brain. “Why not?” I had time to kill anyway. In a sense, Python is always there, even at 3 AM on sleepless nights. It provided stability during an unstable time. While enduring long waits in the hospital, I clicked “If myList[i] == myList[i+1]” on my keyboard. “Yanhang Liang, April 14, 2005, MRN-105…”, a nurse read aloud from the computer as another checked my wristband. While first thinking, “What a redundant process,” I eventually realized the importance of wristband scans and identifier confirmations. One mix-up can be life-threatening. With first-hand experience depending on a data system to ensure I get the correct medications, I aspire one day to build a convenient and foolproof system that relays information flawlessly. I can write code to make words appear on screens, but to build a sturdy system to transfer data, I need the knowledge to design secure and efficient digital pipelines, interconnecting numerous devices and servers. Over the summer, I got one step closer to my dream. At Inflectra Corporation, I collaborated on a data migration tool for user information. Instead of jumping straight into the code editor, I drew up flowcharts and went over them with my supervisor. “Jeez, this is tedious,” I told myself as I revised my design for the millionth time. But when I finally hit the code editor, I knew exactly what to do and letters flowed out from my fingertips like never before. Now I know these seemingly tedious steps are necessary to maintain a clean codebase and robust system. I added a tool to my mental toolbox, already eager to collect the next ones along the road of my college career. My purpose behind building this robust data transfer system is to benefit those around me and the world. I’ve witnessed the leaps in our capabilities to collect, process, and store data. But I’ve also witnessed the dangers of mishandled technology and data. While going in for a check-up last week, I got X-rays of my abdomen taken, but halfway through the procedure, the technician was notified that it was supposed to be an X-ray of my chest instead. This wasn’t a big deal, but the fates of six unfortunate patients of the Therac-25 incident could’ve been prevented if the software had been more robust and there had been more error-checking involved. I’m looking to eliminate as many of these errors as possible through clear communication channels, robust software, and standardized procedures. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. But it also gave me an inner voice that urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

While recovering from the aftershock of my first treatment, the thought of learning Python crept into my brain. “Why not?” I had time to kill anyway. In a sense, Python is always there, even at 3 AM on sleepless nights. It provided stability during an unstable time. While enduring long waits in the hospital, I clicked “If myList[i] == myList[i+1]” on my keyboard. “Yanhang Liang, April 14, 2005, MRN-105…”, a nurse read aloud from the computer as another checked my wristband. While first thinking, “What a redundant process,” I eventually realized the importance of wristband scans and identifier confirmations. One mix-up can be life-threatening. With first-hand experience depending on a data system to ensure I get the correct medications, I aspire one day to build a convenient and foolproof system that relays information flawlessly. I can write code to make words appear on screens, but to build a sturdy system to transfer data, I need the knowledge to design secure and efficient digital pipelines, interconnecting numerous devices and servers. Over the summer, I got one step closer to my dream. At Inflectra Corporation, I collaborated on a data migration tool for user information. Instead of jumping straight into the code editor, I drew up flowcharts and went over them with my supervisor. “Jeez, this is tedious,” I told myself as I revised my design for the millionth time. But when I finally hit the code editor, I knew exactly what to do and letters flowed out from my fingertips like never before. Now I know these seemingly tedious steps are necessary to maintain a clean codebase and robust system. I added a tool to my mental toolbox, already eager to collect the next ones along the road of my college career. My purpose behind building this robust data transfer system is to benefit those around me and the world. I’ve witnessed the leaps in our capabilities to collect, process, and store data. But I’ve also witnessed the dangers of mishandled technology and data. While going in for a check-up last week, I got X-rays of my abdomen taken, but halfway through the procedure, the technician was notified that it was supposed to be an X-ray of my chest instead. This wasn’t a big deal, but the fates of six unfortunate patients of the Therac-25 incident could’ve been prevented if the software had been more robust and there had been more error-checking involved. I’m looking to eliminate as many of these errors as possible through clear communication channels, robust software, and standardized procedures. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. But it also gave me an inner voice that urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

While recovering from the aftershock of my first treatment, the thought of learning Python crept into my brain. “Why not?” I had time to kill anyway. In a sense, Python is always there, even at 3 AM on sleepless nights. It provided stability during an unstable time. While enduring long waits in the hospital, I clicked “If myList[i] == myList[i+1]” on my keyboard. “Yanhang Liang, April 14, 2005, MRN-105…”, a nurse read aloud from the computer as another checked my wristband. While first thinking, “What a redundant process,” I eventually realized the importance of wristband scans and identifier confirmations. One mix-up can be life-threatening. With first-hand experience depending on a data system to ensure I get the correct medications, I aspire one day to build a convenient and foolproof system that relays information flawlessly. I can write code to make words appear on screens, but to build a sturdy system to transfer data, I need the knowledge to design secure and efficient digital pipelines, interconnecting numerous devices and servers. Over the summer, I got one step closer to my dream. At Inflectra Corporation, I collaborated on a data migration tool for user information. Instead of jumping straight into the code editor, I drew up flowcharts and went over them with my supervisor. “Jeez, this is tedious,” I told myself as I revised my design for the millionth time. But when I finally hit the code editor, I knew exactly what to do and letters flowed out from my fingertips like never before. Now I know these seemingly tedious steps are necessary to maintain a clean codebase and robust system. I added a tool to my mental toolbox, already eager to collect the next ones along the road of my college career. My purpose behind building this robust data transfer system is to benefit those around me and the world. I’ve witnessed the leaps in our capabilities to collect, process, and store data. But I’ve also witnessed the dangers of mishandled technology and data. While going in for a check-up last week, I got X-rays of my abdomen taken, but halfway through the procedure, the technician was notified that it was supposed to be an X-ray of my chest instead. This wasn’t a big deal, but the fates of six unfortunate patients of the Therac-25 incident could’ve been prevented if the software had been more robust and there had been more error-checking involved. I’m looking to eliminate as many of these errors as possible through clear communication channels, robust software, and standardized procedures. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. But it also gave me an inner voice that urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

I don’t know exactly, but I reckon the odds of a sixteen-year-old having Stage 4 Cancer are quite low, and I happen to be one of the lucky few. January 10th, 2022: Day 1 of chemotherapy. Soon after the infusion began, blinding pains struck me and I blacked out. As I regained consciousness, I found myself surrounded by a roomful of medical staff. “We don’t know what happened,” the doctors said. With each beep of the monitor, my head tightened and my remaining optimism dwindled. A week later, numbness and nausea became my daily companions. However, I refused to surrender to despair. I went on a walk, amid the brisk January air. Though I didn’t look the part, I felt like Rocky Balboa running through the streets of Philadelphia, one step at a time, ready to take on anything. I went out the next day, and again after that. My thirst for challenge was ignited. I resumed school online, earning English and History credits. I started a Python Bootcamp, generating new lines of code, amidst my chemo infusions. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel, and the thrill of testing new Python scripts. In the midst of adversity, I found myself immersed in a new passion that would help fill a missing piece in my life. June 22nd: 5-week Radiotherapy begins. As I lay immobilized, marked with sharpies and lasers, the Gantry’s clicks and buzzes evoked my imagination. With each cluster of clicks, I visualized rays of laser piercing through my dermis. For each buzz, I pictured complex functions and methods, made up of lines of if-else statements and return values. The same syntax-highlighted keywords and camelCase variables that I’d come to love formed the complex mechanics of the very machine designed to heal me. “I could use my knowledge to help people, just as those who built this machine.” I found the missing part of life, echoing Maya Angelou’s wisdom, “giving liberates the soul of the giver.” Post-radiotherapy, my journey continues. I immersed myself in firsthand real-world coding tasks in a tech start-up to improve its data extraction efficiency. I volunteered in a local immigration center, aiding fellow immigrants in finding their footing in a new country. I’m now in the middle of becoming a software engineering intern for the Childhood Cancer Society. My secret to managing all of this? A deep appreciation and enthusiasm for life. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. It also made a mark on my grit and resilience, not stopping me from being in the top 0.05% with a perfect score on the AP Microeconomics exam, running 2 miles every morning, or making a difference in my beautiful community. Some days I still want to stay under the warm blankets, but now my inner voice urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

I don’t know exactly, but I reckon the odds of a sixteen-year-old having Stage 4 Cancer are quite low, and I happen to be one of the lucky few. January 10th, 2022: Day 1 of chemotherapy. Soon after the infusion began, blinding pains struck me and I blacked out. As I regained consciousness, I found myself surrounded by a roomful of medical staff. “We don’t know what happened,” the doctors said. With each beep of the monitor, my head tightened and my remaining optimism dwindled. A week later, numbness and nausea became my daily companions. However, I refused to surrender to despair. I went on a walk, amid the brisk January air. Though I didn’t look the part, I felt like Rocky Balboa running through the streets of Philadelphia, one step at a time, ready to take on anything. I went out the next day, and again after that. My thirst for challenge was ignited. I resumed school online, earning English and History credits. I started a Python Bootcamp, generating new lines of code, amidst my chemo infusions. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel, and the thrill of testing new Python scripts. In the midst of adversity, I found myself immersed in a new passion that would help fill a missing piece in my life. June 22nd: 5-week Radiotherapy begins. As I lay immobilized, marked with sharpies and lasers, the Gantry’s clicks and buzzes evoked my imagination. With each cluster of clicks, I visualized rays of laser piercing through my dermis. For each buzz, I pictured complex functions and methods, made up of lines of if-else statements and return values. The same syntax-highlighted keywords and camelCase variables that I’d come to love formed the complex mechanics of the very machine designed to heal me. “I could use my knowledge to help people, just as those who built this machine.” Post-radiotherapy, I volunteered to teach middle schoolers to code. Having found comfort and excitement through coding, I’m honored to pass the knowledge on. Currently, I’m in the middle of my journey to becoming a software engineering intern for the Childhood Cancer Society, a job where I can use my programming skills to help others. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. But it also gave me an inner voice that urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

I don’t know exactly, but I reckon the odds of a sixteen-year-old having Stage 4 Cancer are quite low, and I happen to be one of the lucky few. January 10th, 2022: Day 1 of chemotherapy. Soon after the infusion began, blinding pains struck me and I blacked out. As I regained consciousness, I found myself surrounded by a roomful of medical staff. “We don’t know what happened,” the doctors said. With each beep of the monitor, my head tightened and my remaining optimism dwindled. A week later, numbness and nausea became my daily companions. However, I refused to surrender to despair. I went on a walk, amid the brisk January air. Though I didn’t look the part, I felt like Rocky Balboa running through the streets of Philadelphia, one step at a time, ready to take on anything. I went out the next day, and again after that. My hope was revived, but it would be met with difficult times. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, and the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel. I found the missing part of life, echoing Maya Angelou’s wisdom, “giving liberates the soul of the giver.” Post-chemo, I volunteered in a local immigration center, aiding fellow immigrants in finding their footing in a new country. Having experienced the hardship of learning English and accommodating to American culture, I desire to make the transition for new immigrants as comfortable as possible. Through teaching them English, I learned about their lives and culture, which greatly expanded my view of the world around me. I became more understanding of those with different backgrounds and vowed to help everyone learn more about those around them. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. But it also gave me an inner voice that urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

I don’t know exactly, but I reckon the odds of a sixteen-year-old having Stage 4 Cancer are quite low, and I happen to be one of the lucky few. January 10th, 2022: Day 1 of chemotherapy. Soon after the infusion began, blinding pains struck me and I blacked out. As I regained consciousness, I found myself surrounded by a roomful of medical staff. “We don’t know what happened,” the doctors said. With each beep of the monitor, my head tightened and my remaining optimism dwindled. A week later, numbness and nausea became my daily companions. However, I refused to surrender to despair. I went on a walk, amid the brisk January air. Though I didn’t look the part, I felt like Rocky Balboa running through the streets of Philadelphia, one step at a time, ready to take on anything. I went out the next day, and again after that. My hope was revived, but it would be met with difficult times. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, and the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel. I found the missing part of life, echoing Maya Angelou’s wisdom, “giving liberates the soul of the giver.” Post-chemo, I volunteered in a local immigration center, aiding fellow immigrants in finding their footing in a new country. Having experienced the hardship of learning English and accommodating to American culture, I desire to make the transition for new immigrants as comfortable as possible. I also volunteered to teach middle schoolers to code. Having found comfort and excitement through coding, I’m honored to pass the knowledge on. Currently, I’m in the middle of my journey to becoming a software engineering intern for the Childhood Cancer Society, a job where I can use my programming skills to help others. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. But it also gave me an inner voice that urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

I don’t know exactly, but I reckon the odds of a sixteen-year-old having Stage 4 Cancer are quite low, and I happen to be one of the lucky few. January 10th, 2022: Day 1 of chemotherapy. Soon after the infusion began, blinding pains struck me and I blacked out. As I regained consciousness, I found myself surrounded by a roomful of medical staff. “We don’t know what happened,” the doctors said. With each beep of the monitor, my head tightened and my remaining optimism dwindled. A week later, numbness and nausea became my daily companions. However, I refused to surrender to despair. I went on a walk, amid the brisk January air. Though I didn’t look the part, I felt like Rocky Balboa running through the streets of Philadelphia, one step at a time, ready to take on anything. I went out the next day, and again after that. My thirst for challenge was ignited. I resumed school online, earning English and History credits. I started a Python Bootcamp, generating new lines of code, amidst my chemo infusions. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel, and the thrill of testing new Python scripts. In the midst of adversity, I found myself immersed in a new passion that would help fill a missing piece in my life. June 22nd: 5-week Radiotherapy begins. As I lay immobilized, marked with sharpies and lasers, the Gantry’s clicks and buzzes evoked my imagination. With each cluster of clicks, I visualized rays of laser piercing through my dermis. For each buzz, I pictured complex functions and methods, made up of lines of if-else statements and return values. The same syntax-highlighted keywords and camelCase variables that I’d come to love formed the complex mechanics of the very machine designed to heal me. “I could use my knowledge to help people, just as those who built this machine.” I found the missing part of life, echoing Maya Angelou’s wisdom, “giving liberates the soul of the giver.” Post-radiotherapy, my journey continues. I immersed myself in firsthand real-world coding tasks in a tech start-up to improve its data extraction efficiency. I volunteered in a local immigration center, aiding fellow immigrants in finding their footing in a new country. I’m now in the middle of becoming a software engineering intern for the Childhood Cancer Society. My secret to managing all of this? A deep appreciation and enthusiasm for life. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. It also made a mark on my grit and resilience, not stopping me from being in the top 0.05% with a perfect score on the AP Microeconomics exam, running 2 miles every morning, or making a difference in my beautiful community. Some days I still want to stay under the warm blankets, but now my inner voice urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

I don’t know exactly, but I reckon the odds of a sixteen-year-old having Stage 4 Cancer are quite low, and I happen to be one of the lucky few. January 10th, 2022: Day 1 of chemotherapy. Soon after the infusion began, blinding pains struck me and I blacked out. As I regained consciousness, I found myself surrounded by a roomful of medical staff. “We don’t know what happened,” the doctors said. With each beep of the monitor, my head tightened and my remaining optimism dwindled. A week later, numbness and nausea became my daily companions. However, I refused to surrender to despair. I went on a walk, amid the brisk January air. Though I didn’t look the part, I felt like Rocky Balboa running through the streets of Philadelphia, one step at a time, ready to take on anything. I went out the next day, and again after that. My thirst for challenge was ignited. I resumed school online, earning English and History credits. I started a Python Bootcamp, generating new lines of code, amidst my chemo infusions. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel, and the thrill of testing new Python scripts. In the midst of adversity, I found myself immersed in a new passion that would help fill a missing piece in my life. June 22nd: 5-week Radiotherapy begins. As I lay immobilized, marked with sharpies and lasers, the Gantry’s clicks and buzzes evoked my imagination. With each cluster of clicks, I visualized rays of laser piercing through my dermis. For each buzz, I pictured complex functions and methods, made up of lines of if-else statements and return values. The same syntax-highlighted keywords and camelCase variables that I’d come to love formed the complex mechanics of the very machine designed to heal me. “I could use my knowledge to help people, just as those who built this machine.” I found the missing part of life, echoing Maya Angelou’s wisdom, “giving liberates the soul of the giver.” Post-radiotherapy, my journey continues. I immersed myself in firsthand real-world coding tasks in a tech start-up to improve its data extraction efficiency. I volunteered in a local immigration center, aiding fellow immigrants in finding their footing in a new country. I’m now in the middle of becoming a software engineering intern for the Childhood Cancer Society. My secret to managing all of this? A deep appreciation and enthusiasm for life. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. It also made a mark on my grit and resilience, not stopping me from being in the top 0.05% with a perfect score on the AP Microeconomics exam, running 2 miles every morning, or making a difference in my beautiful community. Some days I still want to stay under the warm blankets, but now my inner voice urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.

I don’t know exactly, but I reckon the odds of a sixteen-year-old having Stage 4 Cancer are quite low, and I happen to be one of the lucky few. January 10th, 2022: Day 1 of chemotherapy. Soon after the infusion began, blinding pains struck me and I blacked out. As I regained consciousness, I found myself surrounded by a roomful of medical staff. “We don’t know what happened,” the doctors said. With each beep of the monitor, my head tightened and my remaining optimism dwindled. A week later, numbness and nausea became my daily companions. However, I refused to surrender to despair. I went on a walk, amid the brisk January air. Though I didn’t look the part, I felt like Rocky Balboa running through the streets of Philadelphia, one step at a time, ready to take on anything. I went out the next day, and again after that. My thirst for challenge was ignited. I resumed school online, earning English and History credits. I started a Python Bootcamp, generating new lines of code, amidst my chemo infusions. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel, and the thrill of testing new Python scripts. In the midst of adversity, I found myself immersed in a new passion that would help fill a missing piece in my life. Post-radiotherapy, my journey continues. I immersed myself in firsthand real-world coding tasks in a tech start-up to improve its data extraction efficiency. I volunteered in a local immigration center, aiding fellow immigrants in finding their footing in a new country. I’m now in the middle of becoming a software engineering intern for the Childhood Cancer Society. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. But it also blessed me with a new-found passion to help others through my programming skills. I plan to attend the University of Michigan - Ann Arbor in the fall. The tuition poses a burden for my family. Due to the uncertainty of financial aid, I’m looking for the help of scholarships to support my dreams while alleviating the financial burden for my family.

I don’t know exactly, but I reckon the odds of a sixteen-year-old having Stage 4 Cancer are quite low, and I happen to be one of the lucky few. January 10th, 2022: Day 1 of chemotherapy. Soon after the infusion began, blinding pains struck me and I blacked out. As I regained consciousness, I found myself surrounded by a roomful of medical staff. “We don’t know what happened,” the doctors said. With each beep of the monitor, my head tightened and my remaining optimism dwindled. A week later, numbness and nausea became my daily companions. However, I refused to surrender to despair. I went on a walk, amid the brisk January air. Though I didn’t look the part, I felt like Rocky Balboa running through the streets of Philadelphia, one step at a time, ready to take on anything. I went out the next day, and again after that. My hope was revived, but it would be met with difficult times. Fifty-nine days into my chemo, each morning greeted me with bitter reminders: hair strands clogging the shower drain, emesis bags piling up, tingling fingertips, and wobbly legs. “Seven more treatments, ninety-eight more days of chemo.” The sudden realization struck me that I wasn’t even halfway through. Overwhelmed, tears flowed down my face. Seneca’s words from millennia ago resonated with me, “[those] who suffer before it is necessary, suffer more than necessary.” I chose to embrace the precious present: cherry blossoms in full bloom, savory Quesadillas, and the swaying rhythms of Billy Joel. I found the missing part of life, echoing Maya Angelou’s wisdom, “giving liberates the soul of the giver.” Post-chemo, I volunteered in a local immigration center, aiding fellow immigrants in finding their footing in a new country. Having experienced the hardship of learning English and accommodating to American culture, I desire to make the transition for new immigrants as comfortable as possible. I also volunteered to teach middle schoolers to code. Having found comfort and excitement through coding, I’m honored to pass the knowledge on. Currently, I’m in the middle of my journey to becoming a software engineering intern for the Childhood Cancer Society, a job where I can use my programming skills to help others. Cancer made its mark on my body, leaving me with shaky handwriting and scar tissue in my lungs. But it also gave me an inner voice that urges me to get up and pursue passions that will help me make a mark on the world.