The Importance of Roots

I stare out the window into the vast, black, timeless space. Visibly splotched, solid green and yellow masses are surrounded by white swirls of various shades and concentrations. Between the green, yellow, and white strokes of color, a rich, calming blue fills in the blanks of the picture. The sun is still in my plane of sight as I sighed in awe and complete satisfaction, staring upon the place I call home. With the entire globe within my Sight, I feel free. From up here, nothing matters much; politics, drama, regrets—occupies little importance.

Years ago, I would have never known I would end up here. Going to space was just something people did in their imaginations. Everyone wanted to be an astronaut, no one actually did it. Most of my friends became doctors, teachers, or lawyers; stable jobs—with little risks. I had no idea what I wanted to do. My ultimate goal had always been to get into Stanford. Before college applications were due, I frowned upon the idea of my final destination as getting into a school for the sole purpose of its name. I scrambled to find something I would want to do for the rest of my life, changing my mind sometimes three times a day—scanning from engineering, to geology, to sports medicine. Truthfully, I was terrified. I felt that if I chose the wrong major, I would either flunk out of college or end up doing something I hated.

That summer of my junior year, I spent each day with my two best friends. We did the usual teenage things: played mahjong, poker, Halo, worked out, and had fun. But, we also talked. One day, we were taking a walk through Penitencia Creek, contemplating over college, careers-our futures. Because of his ability to listen patiently and help others, Yuling and I agreed that Brian was suited to be a psychiatrist. Because Yuling was such a persuasive person, Brian and I agreed that Yuling would make a good business woman. When it came to deciding my fate, my friends stopped walking, and stared at me for what seemed like a good two minutes, rubbing their chins.

“Hmm, I think you look like someone who can do any job you want.” Those were the words that came out of Yuling's mouth. Those words surprised me. Yuling rarely complimented anyone. I was flattered. Her words had given me confidence to be less afraid of challenging myself.

That summer, I also spent two weeks at NASA's Space Technology and Exploration Program (STEP), where I spent exploring lassen National Park, meeting outstanding scientists, working with microscopes, and listening to endless lectures. The thing that surprised me was that I did not fall asleep during these research lectures, but found myself raising my hand out of curiosity and wanting to hear more. I felt as if I had received my chance to do something that made a difference, all the while, doing something I loved. My dream of majoring in biomedical engineering and becoming a scientist locked in place.

Then one day, I got an email about an MIT informational meeting. Even though I was not planning on applying there, I was curious about the types of people who would apply there. What I saw in the presentation were normal people, doing unimaginable things. If I could make a significant difference in the world just like these students made the lives of people in third world countries, I could create my own spring of drive and purpose. On that day, I started my personal statement for MIT.

That was my dream as a sixteen year old.

The following year, I flew to Massachusetts for my new journey.

College was very different from high school. Students were free to do whatever they felt like. They could pursue their own dreams and had endless opportunities lying around, free for anyone to snatch. Everywhere I went I found students doing research, writing novels, formulating theories and experiments. Competition was no longer the number one drive. Everyone worked together to better themselves, in order to improve society and the lives of others. At MIT, students understood the limits of competition and the importance of risk, teamwork, and passion.

Four years later, I woke up and put on my graduation gown.

I am here on this spaceship today because of little things. By choosing friends who believed in and encouraged me, having parents who never once doubt my abilities, confiding in teachers who did not place limits on a student's potential, I learned to appreciate and believe in myself.
When I look back at my life, I believe that even if I hadn't gotten this opportunity to go to space, I would still value my accomplishments just as greatly. What I took away from MIT is more than being on this ship. It is more than the paycheck I get every month. It is more than being an alumnus from a top name school. When I graduated from MIT, I took away irreplaceable knowledge. I took away people who love and believe in me. I took away the ability to work hard and I took away the ability to think. I took with me confidence, perseverance, and wisdom—traits that define my success.