When I was a little girl, my mom handed me a purple headband. Soon she rushed out, but my headband was held tightly for years. And that was the last trace I had of her. It wasn't until fifth grade that I discovered the truth about their marriage. The dream I had for years, waiting for her return, was nothing more than a completely vain hope. The purple headband that was once my happiness, had turned into a permanent constellation of darkness that time cannot mend. The foundation my friends took for granted, was a foundation I would never have.  January 2023. A woman with a beautiful smile stepped through the door. Behind my dad, she introduced herself as my “new mom.” I wasn't quite at ease, but it was definitely a promise to feel normal: to be like everyone else—like the typical girls who have their moms beside them. We moved in, but moments often shift without a warning.  August 2023. My dad got arrested. Before the tenuous warmth held a place in the hollow, my home had become a place of glacial pools from the broken flower pot shattered in pieces. Living paycheck to paycheck, financial problems split us apart once again. In the blink of a week, my “new mom” left through the door she once entered. 10:30 p.m. Gazing at the sky above burning down to the darkest ash, I pondered if things would ever feel normal. Refusing to perceive, the etched memory of my purple headband had drowned my head in an everlasting dusk. I continued walking, hoping the endless white headlights would help me understand.  October 2023. The financial strain weighed heavily on us, and I knew I had to step up. I spent the weekends at my new job learning about latte art, a small ritual of mindfulness—3 pumps of caramel, 2 shots of espresso, and a pitcher full of silky steamed milk... ready? Now pour—an elegant Rosetta blooms with its leaves swirling across the cup. During my junior year of high school, balancing school, extracurriculars, and a job wasn’t easy. There were times I questioned whether I was capable, but I refused to let the situation define who I was. By staying disciplined, one cup at a time, I discovered resilience amidst the quiet joy of creation.   The sunlight pecking my eyes after a long, exhausting day became a reminder that I was still standing—that no matter how heavy the rain, I could withstand the storm through discipline. Instead of dwelling on what I lacked, I focused on what I could control. I opened my sight to seek light in the shadows, no matter how dark it may be. One size doesn’t fit all. While acknowledging that my road didn’t come in the most ordinary way that I dreamed of, I realize that every one of its unique turns has become the very fabric of who I really am. Instead of letting bitterness stem down my roots any further, I’ve learned to let gratitude bloom in its place.  As I look ahead, I do so with hope—always finding the steady joy that comes from embracing the colors that no one else can mirror.  Resilience isn’t just about enduring difficult times—it’s about finding ways to grow through them. To anyone facing similar circumstances, my advice is this: don’t let adversity define you. It's okay for your emotions to fluctuate during hardships. Yet through all the instability, find purpose in your struggle. See challenge as an opportunity to grow—perceive your situation, embrace your unique color, and stay disciplined on what you can control.

Every sunrise, I woke up from the clinging noises of cooking in the kitchen, where my grandmother prepared meals from scratch back in China. Showing love through every handmade dumpling, she taught me the value of discipline. On the old brown couch, my grandfather showed me the importance of serving with purpose. With quiet conversations and a drop of thoughtful advice, I adopted taking meaningful actions for a positive impact. When I moved to the U.S., I was tossed into a whole nother world. The language, the culture, and even the pace of life felt uneasy. Korean? Chinese? American?—All my childhood, I drifted between lives. I spent 7 years in China, 10 years in America, and 0 years in Korea. Yet, Korea stands still as my “home country”. Navigating through overseas cultures, I was full of questions about where I genuinely belonged. My distinct Asian name “Huilin” became the vertex of ridicule. My immigrant background boxed me into the frame of an “odd Asian girl”. But as a seven-year-old, I didn’t understand why. All I knew was that I spoke differently, ate different foods, and saw the world through a lens no one around me seemed to share.  Initially, I felt powerless against the discrimination I faced. However, my grandparents’ lessons bridged the gap between these worlds. I knew resilience isn’t just about enduring difficult times—it’s about finding ways to grow through them. Turning pain into purpose, I sought to pursue opportunities for connection. Using my platform as a Public Relations Officer in the Student Council, I strengthened diverse voices within my school’s multicultural community to celebrate unique identities. I joined cultural clubs, shared my traditions, and learned about others in return. My sense of community gradually grew to include not just people who shared my background, but rather anyone who valued connection and mutual understanding—and that’s when I opened my eyes to engineering.  Engineering was just like unwrapping a Christmas gift. Under each layer of its wrap, there was still more to find out. My interest in mechanical engineering stems from a fascination when I first solved my Rubik’s cube. I spent hours researching the internal structure, admiring how such a simple design enabled such complexity. Since then, I developed a curiosity about "how" and "why" things worked—from everyday objects like my grandma’s old magnifying glass to huge machines on construction sites. Nevertheless, mechanical engineering is not just about technical solutions but also about solving real-world problems for diverse groups of people. My grandparents often found creative solutions to problems, whether it was managing limited resources or repairing a broken stall for our neighbor. Watching these instances, my love for problem-solving has grown ever since. I've desired the same ingenuity to create solutions that benefit others through engineering. Together, mechanical engineering stands out to me especially because of its incredible versatility and how it is foundational to so many aspects of our lives. Thus, I desire to pursue a higher education in the field of engineering. Growing up in China, my grandparents shaped me into someone who prioritizes a thoughtful approach to life as a community. By building more connections through pursuing higher education, I’m eager to learn from peers with diverse perspectives and contribute my insights to others to make a progressive impact using engineering. As I navigate new challenges, I carry their lessons with me, always seeking to create connections and leave a positive impact wherever I go. In my destined college, I’m excited to build on these values by collaborating with others to tackle challenges and create meaningful change, just like how my grandparents shaped me.