Emory University

Never has a song resonated with me the way 'My Shot' did.

In the song, I saw a person who was motivated by nothing more than passion. Who had big dreams, and a stronger will to get it done. I saw someone who would stay up for nights on end to understand the inner workings of a seemingly-simple software to create a truly great website. Who would forgo meals because she had ideas in her head and a desire to write them down. Who would teach herself a subject her school refused to let her pursue. Who would take Machine Learning courses for fun. I saw someone with goals, with plans, and with the mettle required to reach them. I saw myself.

Applying to Emory is me thinking past tomorrow. It is me fanning my spark into a flame. Applying to Emory is me not throwing away my shot.

"Mama, there's HOLES in the floor!"

Utterly culture shocked, five year old me was horrified to learn that the sitting toilets of America were not a guarantee in China.

I can't say I like squat toilets, but they've made me realize that many things I see as "ordinary" might be completely different in a different culture or country.

Since my little fiasco, I have in fact spent time researching toilets: bidets, heated seats, ancient Roman sanitation systems (actually not very sanitary but A+ concept), the works. I find it fascinating to think about how the economic status and cultural standards of different countries affect their bathrooms. It's shocking how something as universal as a toilet can have such deeper implications. Though I can't say it's something I think about every day, in my mind it's a small testament to the diverse yet similar ways we live as a global community.

Watching an old white man speak might not be the best way to spend my one chance to time travel, but something about William Henry Harrison's inauguration has always piqued my curiosity. Not only did Harrison stubbornly refuse a coat, hat, and carriage on a disgustingly dreary day, but also gave the longest inaugural speech in US history—I imagine some were bored out of their minds. But it's not the speech itself I'm interested in; it's the desire to let the world hear all that you have to say, even if no one is listening. I often find myself bursting to share my thoughts on all kinds of issues: climate change, class, capitalism, but stop myself when I can't find eager ears. Mr. Harrison died after (stupidly?) braving the elements to share his mind; I want to see that conviction with my own eyes.

I would love to join Nikola Tesla during one of his pigeon-feeding ventures. I've always had an affinity for scientist trivia, and this bird aficionado/innovator is undeniably my favorite. However, I've discovered that history accentuates so strongly on such scientists' laboratory accomplishments that we perceive them as mythical beings rather than humans – to the point that we're surprised whenever they participate in commonplace activities. We all know Tesla's multitude of revolutionary inventions that are still ubiquitous in modern technology. Nevertheless, I aspire to go a step further; I believe there is a beauty and inspiration that can only be found by understanding scientists outside the lab, movie stars off-camera, and politicians away from microphones. Great minds aren't necessarily defined by the moments that history records; many times, the most remarkable people are found lurking in the park with a handful of sunflower seeds.