Tufts University

"Oh I see

Overachiever

With your big handwriting"

I'd just texted a friend about how much I was enjoying the 27-problem, AP Calculus worksheet our teacher had assigned for homework that night. I wasn't quite sure how to reply; I knew she was joking, but she wasn't entirely wrong. I asked Mr. Gearhart for extra problems regularly. But what's more, I enjoyed applying my knowledge to concepts I was passionate about. I'd use my knowledge of geometric series to learn about the money multiplier in economics. I'd use my knowledge of logarithms to learn about the twelve-tone equal temperament tuning system in western music. And yes, I'd do so with giant handwriting.

It wasn't just that I wanted to apply the mathematical concepts; I wanted to see new perspectives. To apply math to music, I had to understand how the two interacted— look at math through music-based lenses. Every time I'd grasp another application, I'd gain another set. And by the end of a month or so, I'd have filled a drawer of lenses, categorized by subject. One could call me a lens collector. But I call myself curious, always wanting to gain new viewpoints. Why? They allow me to take more pictures, wear a myriad of glasses, see a fresh outlook on the world. Every latest perspective is like coming back to a puzzle after taking a break— so many new insights to act upon. So that's what I replied:

"I just find them as fun little puzzles haha"

Lunch is served. Falafel, salad, humus, pita, tzatziki sauce and mint lemonade. The common denominator: made by me. My family gathers around quietly filling their plates with my creations. They sit and the conversation begins to flow. My sister shares that King Louis XIV only showered twice in his life. My physics-obsessed grandpa urges us to read Thinking, Fast and Slow. My grandma pitches a business proposition for me to open a restaurant. My mom looks disgusted when my sister shares the not-so-fun fact. My dad joins my grandpa and demands my sister and me to read the dense book. The food is almost gone but the conversation still lingers. Maybe there is something magical in the little balls of chick-peas that prompt my family to speak of everything that crosses their mind. I don't chat much but I enjoy listening and smiling to the continuous exchange of information. This is what excites my desire for knowledge, each member of my family knows something different and they bring it to the table. Each member fills a particular gap in my world of knowledge just like my dishes fill their bellies with the five essential nutrients. And when the conversation comes to a lul: Dessert is served.