Boston University

I am most excited by Boston University's Societal Engineer vision. As an aspiring engineer with a strong interest in government, I love that BU encourages engineering majors to strengthen their communication skills and global awareness.

Academically speaking, I would explore political science courses through BU Hub requirements like Historical Consciousness and Ethical Reasoning. In addition, I would explore the world through the semester-abroad programs offered by BU for engineering majors. If admitted, I would love to study in Grenoble (and brush up on my French!) as a sophomore.

Beyond academics, BU's student groups also align with the Social Engineer vision. BU's Engineers Without Borders mission spans both engineering and communication, as their project in Zambia involved both in developing sanitation systems and presenting posters on these systems to the community. Given my strong desire to help others through engineering, I would devote my time and energy to EWB's projects at BU.

I am also intrigued by BU's political student groups, and I appreciate that BU's student government offers students from all colleges leadership as Senators. I work closely with my high school's administration as the vice president of our honor society and the overseer of student elections, and I would enjoy doing something similar at BU.

At BU, I can see myself tinkering with Autodesk Inventor late into the night and petitioning legislatures to fix gerrymandered districts. Because BU's Societal Engineer vision would encourage both my STEM and humanities interests, I am very excited about being a student at BU.

I am an example of societal rejection. My lack of adherence to gender constructs breaks traditional expectations as my queerness takes over any sense of "normality" that society could see in me. As a queer, nonbinary person of color and an Indian immigrant, I've moved away from expectations that demand a definition of my characteristics and have begun to explore who I am on a profound level. It's this concept of exploration that I aspire to integrate into my education so that I can learn more about others and understand the incomprehensible by any means, whether it be through interacting with different aspects of humanity, connecting with new communities, or increasing my knowledge on a topic.

I've found this same ring of curiosity and educational passion that distinguishes Kilachand Honors College and have come to resonate with it, whether it be through the different community based circle meetings, the dissimilar seminars focused on developing critical and creative thinking, or the focus on experiential learning. However, Kilachand takes this interest for learning one step further, adding another dimension to the challenging liberal education through building on layers of global, social, corporate, and geopolitical challenges within the classes. This interdisciplinary aspect of the Kilachand curriculum provides me with the chance to understand issues from different perspectives, which I'd take advantage of to fulfill my professional goal of directing a human rights campaign.

Specific classes like KHC HC 401: Epistemologies and the Process of Inquiry and KHC HC 301: Interdisciplinary Perspectives on Global Challenges offer new intellectual opportunities I have been seeking while also supporting me in utilizing my education in a way that benefits my community. The emphasis placed on exploring the real life impact of students' work in Kilachand's integrated curriculum is empowering and would help me use education as a tool to build on my global perspective and make a meaningful difference.

It is my goal to learn more about the unfamiliar so that I can apply that knowledge to "unsolvable global issues" that are only labeled as such because of a cultural disconnect or societal difference. Kilachand supports this goal through offering co-curricular events and residencies where I can connect with other cultures through visiting different cultural institutions or having enlightening discussions with leading professionals. I am inspired by the passion behind the Kilachand community; events such as the POC and LGBTQIA+ Circle meetings are features of the Kilachand community that I hope to contribute to and learn from. By learning about others' experiences and sharing my own, I aspire to be a part of the intellectual curiosity that is shared among Kilachand students.

The copious academic, cultural, and social opportunities at Kilchand all connect back to the same pillar of change that I have continuously been drawn to. Even though my interests are diverse and follow multiple tracks, the diversity of opportunities at Kilchand resonate with my varied passions and offer an accepting community connected through curiosity, which I hope to contribute to.

"The last 10% is 90% of the work."

It was written on a small, ripped-off piece of yellow legal paper in fading blue ink. And now, it still sits in my desk drawer, four years after it was given to me by my band director, Mr. Laghari. It was one day in ninth grade, about two weeks before I was to perform my very first audition, that Mr. Laghari strolled over to where I was sitting.

"Alright Kat, let's hear this district piece!"

What followed, looking back, was absolutely the most mediocre performance you've ever heard.

"Well done! I have a few comments for you though. Mainly, it seems like you have the notes and rhythms down, but you gotta add some musicality!"

I had no clue what he was talking about; it showed in my face.

"Expression! Dynamics! You know!"

But I didn't.

"Oh come on! It's the last part, right before the audition, the hardest part. You know, my high school band director once told me…"

He took out his yellow legal pad and began writing.

"The. Last. Ten. Percent. Is. Ninety. Percent. Of. The. Work."

He ripped it off, and gave it to me. And I took it to heart. I looked up musicality, expression, dynamics, and worked to map out phrases in the music. I recorded myself to see what I could add to make it musical.

When the audition came around, I was ready. When they called euphoniums, I enthusiastically left my school's group and walked with the rest of the auditionees to the holding room. But it was a long walk. Not only did I start to miss the safety of my school group, I started to get in my own head. What if I put in all my hard work for nothing? What would people think? My parents? Mr. Laghari? In the holding room, I squirmed in my seat, waiting for my name to get called. The clock on the wall ticked and ticked, my anxiety building all the while. Finally, my name was called, second-to-last, and as I followed the volunteer to the audition room, I suddenly remembered Mr. Laghari's slip of paper. I just needed to give my ninety percent. I focused myself, and did just that.

So it came as a surprise to me when Mr. Laghari told me that I placed seventh, and they took the top six players, on the bus ride home. Not only was I surprised, I was crushed. "We'll get 'em next year!" he said. But all I heard was "You didn't make it this year." It was a bitter trip.

It took me about a week to realize what he said, and that I would crush it next year. I told myself it wasn't a matter of auditioning to see if I could make it. I told myself auditioning was a formality. And as I looked at the blue ink on that slip of paper, with all of those crushing memories now attached, I told myself that I would give my ninety percent not just on the last ten percent of the work, but on all of it: every year. And with that mindset, I've not only placed first in All-Districts on trombone and euphonium, but have made it all the way to All-State.

So, whenever I need inspiration for a project, motivation to finish my homework, determination not to give up, I just open up my desk drawer. And one day in the near future, when I move off to Boston University, that slip of paper is what I'll be taking with me.