Princeton University

In 7th grade, I was assigned a research project. Although I didn't know it at the time, this project would end up sparking an interest which would guide me throughout the rest of my public school career. The project was simple: using Google and other resources, I had to find a potential career I'd be interested in pursuing later in life. Being a naive 7th grader, I had virtually no idea where to start. I knew I had a strong preference for STEM, but as to which area of STEM to pursue, I was clueless. After looking at a myriad of other careers, I finally came across aerospace engineering.

At first, I was intrigued by the name. I remember thinking that it sounded awesome, and I was compelled to learn more. Fast forward a few days and many hours of research, and aerospace engineering stole my heart. When I got to high school, I took all of the classes my school offered that would be beneficial for an aerospace engineer. AP Physics, Multivariable Calculus, PLTW engineering courses, and countless others made the list, and all the while my desire to become an aerospace engineer intensified. I joined numerous STEM clubs to nurture this interest, and in doing so I not only became a better engineer, but also a better person. I also began looking into outstanding aerospace colleges, and Princeton made the very top of my list.

When I look back on it now, I'm not surprised that aerospace engineering is what called to me in that project. In fact, I've been fascinated with planes and rockets since a very young age! I would often build models out of LEGOs, and there are numerous times I spent way too many hours playing Kerbal Space Program. When I discovered there was a career dedicated to those parts of my personality, it makes sense that I'd be drawn to it. I find it fascinating that just by using the arsenals of math and science, we can fabricate every tool needed to explore and catalog the cosmos. If that isn't powerful, I don't know what is.

Although aerospace engineering has been my main interest throughout high school, I've also felt a pull towards mechanical engineering and robotics. Princeton is unique in that it offers a joint major in mechanical AND aerospace engineering, which is something I haven't seen at any other school. In addition, Princeton's certificate program in Robotics and Intelligent Systems will allow me to pursue robotics in the context of aerospace engineering. In particular, if I am admitted to Princeton University, I would love to have the opportunity to conduct research in the Intelligent Robot Motion Lab. The IRoM-Lab's focus on how robots function in complex environments safely and efficiently has me especially excited, and I've come up with a few ideas of my own to be pursued.

Engineering is the driving force behind progress in society, and I am willing to do everything I can to contribute to that progress.

The twang of the strings as the delicately strung horsehair bow grazes the steel strings, the enraptured sensation of my hand cramping as I write, and the feeling of connection as my hands dig deep into the damp earth as I nurture my plants. As an academic and most importantly a teen my interests are bilateral. My need for stimulation and innate inquisitive nature are reflected in my academic interests as well.

As I learned about the intricacies of cell biology and genetics I was enthralled. My love for understanding how the world and humans work from a scientific lens stem from my love for humanity. When I learned about CAS 9 CRISPR and the future of science I felt I had stumbled onto my passion. Furthermore, familiarizing myself with scientific ethicality, I knew this field was for me.

Princeton recognizes the importance of academics, and the humanities as do I. At Princeton I will take "Scientific Integrity in the Practice of Molecular Biology" where I will explore the conflict between innovation and morality. I can see myself appreciating the wonderful art around Princeton's campus as I walk to my classes. I look forward to the exchange of knowledge at Princeternship where I will be able to spend time with well-versed individuals to further my knowledge.

Princeton's acknowledgment of the arts and humanities align with mine and I am sure yearning for the arts will grow alongside my intellect; gaining enough knowledge to potentially change the world with CRISPR.

Soft melodies float in the air, feathery sounds of consonance and dissonance create a cloud of harmonies I fall into each night. Born into a family of musicians, I began practicing the piano at four years old. Thirteen years later, I still look forward to sitting at the piano day after day, embarking on adventures to transform a monochrome score into a piece of art with color and dimension.

Although I relish the thrill of piano competitions and performances, the intellectual challenge that accompanies learning a piano piece in its entirety is an unmatchable experience. In light of the multitasking that musicians must master, the piano has first taught me discipline, that creating anything meaningful requires practice, patience, and persistence. But in the end, the many hours, days, and weeks practicing the piano are rewarded when I can share an emotional experience with others not by speaking, but through the movement of hands that make a piece come alive.

Superhero cinema is an oligopoly consisting of two prominent, towering brands: Marvel and DC. I'm a religious supporter of Marvel, but last year, I discovered my friend, Tom, was a DC fan. After a 20-minute vociferous quarrel about which was better, we decided to allocate one day to assemble coherent arguments and have a professional debate.

One week later, we both brought pages of notes, evidence cards, and I had my Iron-Man bobblehead for moral support. Our moderator – a Disney fan – sat in the middle with a stopwatch – open-policy style. I began the debate by discussing how Marvel accentuated the humanity of the storyline – such as Tony Stark's transformation from an egotistical billionaire to a compassionate father – which drew in a broader audience because more people resonated with certain aspects of the characters. Tom rebutted this by capitalizing on how Deadpool was a duplicate of Deathstroke, Vision copied Red Tornado, and DC sold more comics than Marvel.

40 minutes later, we reached an impasse. We were out of cards, and we both made excellent points, so our moderator failed to declare a winner. Difficult conversations aren't necessarily always the ones that make political headlines. Instead, a difficult discussion involves any topic with which we share an emotional connection. Over the years, I became so emotionally invested in Marvel that my mind erected an impenetrable shield, blocking out all other possibilities. Even today, we haven't decided which franchise was better, but I realized that I was undermining DC for no reason apart from ignorance.

The inevitability of diversity suggests that it is our responsibility to understand the other person and what they believe. We may not always experience a change in opinions, but we can grant ourselves the opportunity to expand our global perspective. At Princeton, I will continue this adventure to increase my awareness as a superhero aficionado, activist, and student by engaging in conversations that require me to think beyond what I believe and viewing the world from others' perspectives.

And yes, Tom is still my friend.

Many students had no choice but to engage in online learning during the pandemic. However, due to the nature of digital learning, many students have faced a gap in education that may take years to remedy. I am passionate about the importance of education. Everyone should have access to quality education regardless of race, zip code, or socioeconomic status. The cold facts are that while some students have access to resources that might lessen the effects of online learning, many do not. Through no fault of their own, students are held back from achieving their full potential. To help close this learning gap, my peers and I offered free tutoring during the pandemic. I taught math and reading to elementary and middle school students, concentrating on the African American community. From this experience, I was exposed to the deficiencies of the public school system and the consequent impact on its students. Nevertheless, I genuinely enjoyed my experience instructing those children. Their warm spirit, limitless energy, and ready minds are all characteristics that I wish to emulate. Due to my experience, I never take my education for granted and am forever grateful for the future it has helped me build. I hope I can work on the public education system and make it more accessible and profitable for the children it is supposed to serve and further give back to the community.

When I began my internship in my state's Division of Human Rights, some family members scoffed upon hearing the nature of certain cases I dissected. To them, it was a malapportionment of time to heed race-based workplace discrimination when genocides were ongoing. To them, these government institutions reflected the weakness of modern western culture. Despite this deterrence, I stayed confident that preventing severe human rights violations begins with taking more minor instances seriously.

Exercising my critical thinking while putting justice into action was fulfilling regardless of a complaint's validity — I dealt with companies firing employees upon discovering their illness diagnoses. I helped interview a woman claiming language harassment as an English speaker in a majority-Hispanic workplace. I accounted for factors such as respondents having attorneys (unlike complainants) when recommending determinations in the face of contradicting claims. I wasn't discouraged when the same man called the office for the 10th time that day, shouting his demand that we process his case immediately.

Bureaucracy can cause waste, yet when I compare human rights protections in the Middle East and the United States, I realize that upholding ethics through the law is necessary for many sectors. The same elements that slow the processing of cases safeguard moral consistency, allowing genuine complaints to be separated from frivolous ones. When "insignificant" discrimination slips through the cracks, more severe violations ensue. At Princeton, I'd extend my work in regional human rights to a global scale, building a safer future for vulnerable populations in the Arab world.

Since childhood, I have observed the adults of my life giving up their ideals due to financial struggle. My lawyer mother's dream of justice was disrupted by the corrupt legal system revolving around bribery. My father's architectural aspiration collapsed after his company's bankruptcy. They wanted to contribute positively in society: my mother to protect the righteousness and fairness of the laws, and my father to creatively beautify the world surrounding him. Due to the constant pressure of satisfying the basic needs and the appeal of luxuries, they failed. They were not the only ones as illustrated by politicians whose words promise the people security yet their actions submit to corporations' contributions. Thus, growing up, I chose to pursue money. Though it sounds like a disingenuous excuse for my own greed, I believe that studying finance and economics can exert positive changes on society because these disciplines are interwoven with industries and the well-being of individuals. Interning with a local financial service firm showed me the importance of financial security, which could produce a significant difference in more community involvement, philanthropy, and personal happiness, even among a small community. Whether it is improving financial literacy locally or addressing the wealth gap nationally, an understanding of money and its effects are necessary for meaningful changes to happen. Everyone seeks to solve world hunger, gender inequality, or climate change. Yet to each of these social problems exists an economic perspective that drives its entire operation to which I am committed to target.

"I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one." – Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Afternoon on a Hill" (Renascence and Other Poems, 1917)

My teenage rebellion started at age twelve. Though not yet technically a teenager, I dedicated myself to the cause: I wore tee shirts with bands on them that made my parents cringe, shopped exclusively at stores with eyebrow- pierced employees, and met every comforting idea the world offered me with hostility. Darkness was in my soul! Happiness was a construct meant for sheep! Optimism was for fools! My cynicism was a product of a world that gave birth to the War in Afghanistan around the same time it gave birth to me , that shot and killed my peers in school, that irreversibly melted ice caps and polluted oceans and destroyed forests.

I was angry. I fought with my parents, my peers, and strangers. It was me versus the world.

However, there's a fundamental flaw in perpetual antagonism: it's exhausting. My personal relationships suffered as my cynicism turned friends and family into bad guys in my eyes. As I kept up the fight, I found myself always tired, emotionally and physically. The tipping point came one morning standing at the bathroom sink before school. I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the tired, sad girl that looked back with pallid skin and purple eye bags. That morning, I found my mother and cried in her arms. I decided that the fight was over.

I took a break from fighting. I let go of my constant anger about global problems by first focusing on the local ones that I could do something about, and then learning to do things not because they fixed a problem, but for the simple joy of trying. I apologized to friends that I wronged previously, said yes when my mom asked me to go grocery shopping with her, and spent afternoons alone in the park, just reading. I baked brownies in the kitchen because it made me happy. I slept in on weekends when I could, but I also made an effort to get out of bed and move. I made an effort to be nice-optimistic, even-with the people around me, but more importantly, I made an effort to be nice to myself.

After a period of self-care, the fight in me recharged, but this time I didn't rush to spend it in anger. Now, it's a tool I use wisely. I've channeled it into tangible causes: I don't want the feeling of loneliness and anger to fester inside of anybody else, so I work with school administration to create community-building events for my senior class. From being the first to implement a class messaging system to starting a collaborative playlist with all 800 of my peers, I've turned my energy into positive change in my community.

I've still got a few more years of teenage angst in me, but the meaning of my rebellion has changed. It's not about responding to a world that's wronged me with defiance, anger, and cynicism, but about being kind to myself and finding beauty in the world so that I can stay charged and fight for the real things that matter.

I've realized that the world is my afternoon on a hill, full of sunlight and optimism if only I can see them. Now, I am the gladdest thing under the sun! I can be vulnerable and open, and I can show my passion to the world through love. I will touch a hundred flowers, seize a hundred opportunities, and love a hundred things. I will not pick just one.

"One of the great challenges of our time is that the disparities we face today have more complex causes and point less straightforwardly to solutions."

– Omar Wasow, assistant professor of politics, Princeton University. This quote is taken from Professor Wasow's January 2014 speech at the Martin Luther King Day celebration at Princeton University.

The air is crisp and cool, nipping at my ears as I walk under a curtain of darkness that drapes over the sky, starless. It is a Friday night in downtown Corpus Christi, a rare moment of peace in my home city filled with the laughter of strangers and colorful lights of street vendors. But I cannot focus.

My feet stride quickly down the sidewalk, my hand grasps on to the pepper spray my parents gifted me for my sixteenth birthday. My eyes ignore the surrounding city life, focusing instead on a pair of tall figures walking in my direction. I mentally ask myself if they turned with me on the last street corner. I do not remember, so I pick up the pace again. All the while, my mind runs over stories of young women being assaulted, kidnapped, and raped on the street. I remember my mother's voice reminding me to keep my chin up, back straight, eyes and ears alert.

At a young age, I learned that harassment is a part of daily life for women. I fell victim to period-shaming when I was thirteen, received my first catcall when I was fourteen, and was nonconsensually grabbed by a man soliciting on the street when I was fifteen. For women, assault does not just happen to us— its gory details leave an imprint in our lives, infecting the way we perceive the world. And while movements such as the Women's March and #MeToo have given victims of sexual violence a voice, harassment still manifests itself in the lives of millions of women across the nation. Symbolic gestures are important in spreading awareness but, upon learning that a surprising number of men are oblivious to the frequent harassment that women experience, I now realize that addressing this complex issue requires a deeper level of activism within our local communities.

Frustrated with incessant cases of harassment against women, I understood at sixteen years old that change necessitates action. During my junior year, I became an intern with a judge whose campaign for office focused on a need for domestic violence reform. This experience enabled me to engage in constructive dialogue with middle and high school students on how to prevent domestic violence. As I listened to young men uneasily admit their ignorance and young women bravely share their experiences in an effort to spread awareness, I learned that breaking down systems of inequity requires changing an entire culture. I once believed that the problem of harassment would dissipate after politicians and celebrities denounce inappropriate behavior to their global audience. But today, I see that effecting large-scale change comes from the "small" lessons we teach at home and in schools. Concerning women's empowerment, the effects of Hollywood activism do not trickle down enough. Activism must also trickle up and it depends on our willingness to fight complacency.

Finding the solution to the long-lasting problem of violence against women is a work-in-progress, but it is a process that is persistently moving. In my life, for every uncomfortable conversation that I bridge, I make the world a bit more sensitive to the unspoken struggle that it is to be a woman. I am no longer passively waiting for others to let me live in a world where I can stand alone under the expanse of darkness on a city street, utterly alone and at peace. I, too, deserve the night sky.