My Story

Growing up, I've always been fascinated by the intersections of technology and creativity. The first time I coded a program was in elementary school when our computer readiness class took part in the nationwide Hour of Code initiative. The prospect of building an entire video game just by arranging colorful blocks of code on a blank canvas was deeply fascinating, and the Hour of Code became something I regularly looked forward to in the years that followed.

However, it wasn't until joining the advanced learners' program that I saw the true potential of coding. The program's curriculum introduced me to MIT's Scratch, which elevated the Hour of Code's block-based interface with new tools to create custom graphics, effects, and sounds in each program. To say I was amazed by the evolution would be putting it lightly, as my passion for Scratch extended beyond the classroom into weekends, holidays, and vacations. My projects spanned everything from visual art simulations to increasingly complex games I shared with my friends. I once attempted to code a full-fledged web animation like other ambitious Scratch users had done before, though it never came to be.

Scratch convinced me that technology could be a pathway for storytellers and their talent to reach audiences everywhere. Regrettably, I nearly lost sight of this powerful lesson as middle school ended and my vocational high school career began. The COVID-19 pandemic deprived me of many chances to flex my creative muscles in my chosen trade of programming and web development; by the time in-person learning recommenced, junior and senior years piled on college readiness and other commitments that took time away from developing my craft. Suddenly, I was left questioning whether I'd pursued the right field.

During my first year in college, my disillusionment morphed into an overwhelming apathy toward the coursework and opportunities at my disposal, negatively affecting my academic performance and overall confidence. After a satisfactory fall semester followed by a stressful spring, I spent the start of summer vacation re-evaluating my goals. How could I have been so passionate about this dream before, only to feel so burdened by it now? Why didn't coding inspire me anymore? Was I doing something wrong?

Then, it dawned on me. It wasn't a matter of "what I was doing wrong," but rather "what I wasn't doing." Despite attending every possible career event, highlighting all the impressive skills on my resume, and sharing my hopes for technology with those willing to listen, there was virtually nothing to show for my niche beyond what I'd accomplished in my youth. As painful as it was, I acknowledged I was the source of my own frustration due to expecting my ambitions to be automatically realized instead of taking the necessary time and effort to convince others.

Now, in my second year of college, I intend to restore my creative drive while seeking new challenges where I can apply my technical skills uniquely and efficiently. As excited as I am to make meaningful contributions to the world of technology, I understand success isn't an immediate guarantee and that pushing myself past my limits or being overly critical of my current progress will only cause the apathy I once felt to resurface. With renewed fascination and help from peers and enthusiasts, I'm more determined than ever to bridge information with innovation and inspire others to adopt a similar perspective.