A quarter of our luggage was filled with Berbere (Ber-be-re), a mixture of many different spices, like garlic and chili peppers. As Ethiopians, we put Berbere in all types of foods because it goes well with everything while keeping its distinct taste. It’s been about 4 years since my family and I immigrated to the US, and we felt alienated as if we were a different species because of cultural barriers. I remember my uncle telling me, “Just wait six months and that English is gonna be your new normal.” I thought to myself, “You’ve lived here for more than 20 years and listen to your English.” Soon, I found myself trying to fit in at my Title 1 high school, where diversity was its one and only high-ranking quality. I might have struggled with English, but I was fluent in a universal language: laughter. Using a mix of my made-up sign language and broken-up English, whether it was at me or with me, I never failed to put a smile on others. Adapting to an American lifestyle made it challenging to embrace and express my culture; however, becoming a part of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church allowed me to balance the two: together but separate. The loving and welcoming community made it feel like home. I learned more about and accepted my Ethiopian heritage while expanding on my American culture. My multicultural qualities and fluency in laughter allow me to break cultural barriers and connect better with people not only from different cultural backgrounds but also with different personalities and experiences. Wherever I go, whichever food I’m in, my unique identity and qualities allow me to get the best out of a community, they make me a Berbere (Ber-be-re) in a diverse society. I haven’t yet fully discovered my identity, but with my growing curiosity and ambition, I know I will change the world; the question is: where will my journey take me?

“ስለ እግዚአብሄር ፤ ስለ ማርያም!” an exhausted voice was calling. There was an old homeless man outside in the blazing sun, begging for a piece of bread or a few cents to survive the bitter day. “In God’s name; in the Holy Virgin Mary’s name,” he repeated in Amharic. Hesitantly, I opened the door and told him, “Sorry, we’re not Christians.” “What a clever answer,” I thought to myself. He was wearing a worn-out, checkered blanket, which hadn’t been washed in a while. He had wrinkles on his tired-looking, dark face, and his beard, like his hair, was white and unkempt. As I was getting ready to close the door, the man, in his weakened voice, replied, “I see you have a cross on your neck.” “Oh shoot...if only I could’ve covered it!” Filled with guilt, I went to get him a plate of injera (in-je-ra). After the man had eaten and rested, he pulled out a yellow, folded plastic-bag and placed the leftovers in there. Returning the plate, he said, “እግዚአብሄር ይስጥልኝ!” — “May God give back to you!” — with other blessings and took off. Throughout my short lifetime, I’ve received many opportunities that have revolutionized the way I perceive and interact with the world around me. Out of those opportunities, coming to the United States and serving at an Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church (EOTC) are by far two of my most invaluable ones. Immigrating from a developing country to one of the richest and technologically advanced countries in the world felt like I traveled into the future. It was “The land of milk and honey,” as my parents called it. Going from a world where it’s a privilege to know how to write to a world where dreams are met with endless opportunities, I realized that anything was possible. There were many paths to take, but I had been given the equipment necessary to forge my own. With my access to free, quality education and modern technology (i.e., the internet: a source of seemingly limitless information) my once closed and naïve brain started asking questions and seeking answers. I started wondering: “Who, what, and where am I?” and “Who, where, and what can I be?” This perpetual questioning of my surroundings and connection to the world led me to look for answers at a place I least expected. Honestly, at first, I went to Saint Raguel Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church because my parents made me go. However, I gradually fell in love with the angelic hymns, the uplifting liturgies, and the enchanting scriptures. Especially during the festive holidays, the harmonious, spirited, and beautiful service was a glimpse into the heavens. Soon I started getting more involved: serving in the choir, performing in plays, and later becoming a deacon. Having the privilege of spending time with highly educated church fathers inspired me to be ambitious and eager to learn more (both spiritually and worldly). The incredible amount of wisdom they held fascinated me. I remember once apologizing to one of the fathers for asking too many questions, but his tolerance to my annoyance and encouragement of my curiosity helped me embrace it. Furthermore, the love of a God who was crucified for me and the prayers of the Holy Virgin Mary fuel me to persevere and utilize my gifts to serve others. The place where I had to be incentivized to go to, turned out to be the place where I discovered a part of my identity and purpose, with a whole new perspective of the world. Being a part of the EOTC gave me the enthusiasm to help people and the motive to make progress while the advancements in the U.S. equipped me with the tools and resources to start putting my curiosity and imagination into practice. The lazy and ignorant kid who once lied about his Christianity to an old homeless man now serves as a key leader in an organization with a mission of introducing and spreading the EOTC faith through community service. I haven’t yet fully discovered my identity, but with my growing curiosity and ambition, I know I will change the world; the question is: where will my journey take me?

“ስለ እግዚአብሄር ፤ ስለ ማርያም!” an exhausted voice was calling. There was an old homeless man outside in the blazing sun, begging for a piece of bread or a few cents to survive the bitter day. “In God’s name; in the Holy Virgin Mary’s name,” he repeated in Amharic. Hesitantly, I opened the door and told him, “Sorry, we’re not Christians.” “What a clever answer,” I thought to myself. He was wearing a worn-out, checkered blanket, which hadn’t been washed in a while. He had wrinkles on his tired-looking, dark face, and his beard, like his hair, was white and unkempt. As I was getting ready to close the door, the man, in his weakened voice, replied, “I see you have a cross on your neck.” “Oh shoot...if only I could’ve covered it!” Filled with guilt, I went to get him a plate of injera (in-je-ra). After the man had eaten and rested, he pulled out a yellow, folded plastic-bag and placed the leftovers in there. Returning the plate, he said, “እግዚአብሄር ይስጥልኝ!” — “May God give back to you!” — with other blessings and took off. Throughout my short lifetime, I have received many opportunities that have revolutionized the way I perceive and interact with the world around me. Out of those opportunities, coming to the United States and serving at an Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church (EOTC) are by far two of my most invaluable ones. Immigrating from a developing country to one of the richest and technologically advanced countries in the world felt like I traveled into the future. It was “The land of milk and honey,” as my parents called it. Going from a world where it’s a privilege to know how to write to a world where dreams are met with endless opportunities, I realized that anything was possible. There were many paths to take, but I had been given the equipment necessary to forge my own. With my access to free, quality education and modern technology (i.e. the internet: a source of seemingly limitless information) my once closed and naïve brain started asking questions and seeking answers. I started wondering: “Who, what, and where am I?” and ”Who, where, and what can I be?” This perpetual questioning of my surroundings and connection to the world led me to look for answers at a place I least expected. Honestly, at first, I went to Saint Raguel Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church because my parents made me go. However, I gradually fell in love with the angelic hymns, the uplifting liturgies, and the enchanting scriptures. Especially during the festive holidays, the harmonious, spirited, and beautiful service was a glimpse into the heavens. Soon I started getting more involved: serving in the choir, performing in plays, and later becoming a deacon. Having the privilege of spending time with highly educated church fathers inspired me to be ambitious and eager to learn more (both spiritually and worldly). The incredible amount of wisdom they held fascinated me. I remember once apologizing to one of the fathers for asking too many questions, but his tolerance to my annoyance and encouragement of my curiosity helped me embrace it. Furthermore, the love of a God who was crucified for me and the prayers of the Holy Virgin Mary fuel me to persevere and utilize my gifts to serve others. The place where I had to be incentivized to go to, turned out to be the place where I discovered a part of my identity and purpose, with a whole new perspective of the world. Being a part of the EOTC gave me the enthusiasm to help people and the motive to make progress while the advancements in the U.S. equipped me with the tools and resources to start putting my curiosity and imagination into practice. The lazy and ignorant kid who once lied about his Christianity to an old homeless man now serves as a key leader in an organization with a mission of introducing and spreading the EOTC faith through community service. I haven’t yet fully discovered my identity, but with my growing curiosity and ambition, I know I will change the world; the question is: where will my journey take me?

“ስለ እግዚአብሄር ፤ ስለ ማርያም!” an exhausted voice was calling. There was an old homeless man outside in the blazing sun, begging for a piece of bread or a few cents to survive the bitter day. “In God’s name; in the Holy Virgin Mary’s name,” he repeated in Amharic. Hesitantly, I opened the door and told him, “Sorry, we’re not Christians.” “What a clever answer,” I thought to myself. He was wearing a worn-out, checkered blanket, which hadn’t been washed in a while. He had wrinkles on his tired-looking, dark face, and his beard, like his hair, was white and unkempt. As I was getting ready to close the door, the man, in his weakened voice, replied, “I see you have a cross on your neck.” “Oh shoot...if only I could’ve covered it!” Filled with guilt, I went to get him a plate of injera (in-je-ra). After the man had eaten and rested, he pulled out a yellow, folded plastic-bag and placed the leftovers in there. Returning the plate, he said, “እግዚአብሄር ይስጥልኝ!” — “May God give back to you!” — with other blessings and took off. Throughout my short lifetime, I have received many opportunities that have revolutionized the way I perceive and interact with the world around me. Out of those opportunities, coming to the United States and serving at an Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church (EOTC) are by far two of my most invaluable ones. Immigrating from a developing country to one of the richest and technologically advanced countries in the world felt like I traveled into the future. It was “The land of milk and honey,” as my parents called it. Going from a world where it’s a privilege to know how to write to a world where dreams are met with endless opportunities, I realized that anything was possible. There were many paths to take, but I had been given the equipment necessary to forge my own. With my access to free, quality education and modern technology (i.e. the internet: a source of seemingly limitless information) my once closed and naïve brain started asking questions and seeking answers. I started wondering: “Who, what, and where am I?” and ”Who, where, and what can I be?” This perpetual questioning of my surroundings and connection to the world led me to look for answers at a place I least expected. Honestly, at first, I went to Saint Raguel Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church because my parents made me go. However, I gradually fell in love with the angelic hymns, the uplifting liturgies, and the enchanting scriptures. Especially during the festive holidays, the harmonious, spirited, and beautiful service was a glimpse into the heavens. Soon I started getting more involved: serving in the choir, performing in plays, and later becoming a deacon. Having the privilege of spending time with highly educated church fathers inspired me to be ambitious and eager to learn more (both spiritually and worldly). The incredible amount of wisdom they held fascinated me. I remember once apologizing to one of the fathers for asking too many questions, but his tolerance to my annoyance and encouragement of my curiosity helped me embrace it. Furthermore, the love of a God who was crucified for me and the prayers of the Holy Virgin Mary fuel me to persevere and utilize my gifts to serve others. The place where I had to be incentivized to go to, turned out to be the place where I discovered a part of my identity and purpose, with a whole new perspective of the world. Being a part of the EOTC gave me the enthusiasm to help people and the motive to make progress while the advancements in the U.S. equipped me with the tools and resources to start putting my curiosity and imagination into practice. The lazy and ignorant kid who once lied about his Christianity to an old homeless man now serves as a key leader in an organization with a mission of introducing and spreading the EOTC faith through community service. I haven’t yet fully discovered my identity, but with my growing curiosity and ambition, I know I will change the world; the question is: where will my journey take me?

"Aaaah!” I cried as my younger brother electrocuted me. I felt electrons surging through me like I was a wire with no bounds; it was not what I’d call “fun”. As opposite charges attract, maybe it’s my positive mindset attracted to the negatively charged electrons. Since I was young, I have always been fascinated by how those electrons could be manipulated to light up a bulb, power a phone, or as in that case, make me cry. It has only been about 4 years since my family and I immigrated to the United States, but even in those short four years my life and my perspective of the world around me has changed drastically. Going from a world where it’s a privilege to know how to write to a world where dreams are met with endless opportunities, I realized that anything was possible. It was “The land of milk and honey,” as my parents called the U.S. There were many paths to take, but I had been given the equipment necessary to forge my own. With my access to free, quality education and modern technology (i.e., the internet: a source of seemingly limitless information) my once closed and naïve brain started asking questions and seeking answers. I started wondering: “Who, what, and where am I?” and “Who, where, and what can I be?” Throughout my life, I have done many side projects to broaden my understanding of electricity and circuitry. For instance, I made a biometrics-security-system for my desk drawer where I connected a fingerprint sensor, a lock, and other components to an Arduino microcontroller on a circuit board I made, keeping it all compact. Thank you, eBay (no I’m not paid to say this)! As I scan my fingerprint to open my drawer, I often find myself wondering about how those simple looking components connected by a bunch of wires could read and understand my finger to execute an action. This constant inquiry led me to give this part of myself a chance to thrive. Instead of just plugging in and attaching wires, I want to gain a deeper understanding of designing and building sophisticated circuits for those electrons. My side projects may be small and focused on minor issues, but with today’s advancing technology, I plan to work with a diverse group of individuals in developing new industry standards and solving more impactful problems in the world (i.e. lack of access to clean water, waste production, clean energy, climate change, and the uneven distribution of resources). I wouldn't say I’m experienced with electricity and circuits, but it’s something I want to learn more about and devote time to. I haven’t yet fully discovered my identity, but with my growing curiosity, ambition, and skill set, including the ones that I will hopefully attain as an Electrical Engineer, I know I will discover my full potential and change the world; the question is: where will my journey take me?