Scribbling with a bright red marker, I subject my brother to another lesson on long division. His unfocused eyes and blank paper do not deter me in the slightest as I solve practice problem after practice problem. I love the way the marker leaves behind rivers of colors, the faint scent of chemicals, and how the words “dividend,” “quotient,” and “divisor” land on my tongue. This is my first love — teaching.
In a rural town with limited options for summer camps and after-school activities, teaching evolved from a hobby to a passion. My unquenchable urge to teach drives many of my hobbies and commitments. Though I no longer teach long division to my brother, I teach productive conversation and inclusion to the members of my community. I teach calculus, geometry, and English to my peers, but I also teach them their capabilities. I teach others about the value of mental health and how to find their voice and share their stories. I teach in the hopes that another person will fall in love with teaching just as much as I have.
For me, life is a commitment to learning — but also a commitment to teaching. The relationship between learning and teaching is one of reciprocity; thus, they naturally blend together. The markers discarded after teaching my brother to spell as a toddler are the markers that teach me patience as an educator. The time I spend using goldfish to teach algebraic expressions to a young middle school boy is also the time he spends teaching me about his passion for fly fishing. The many afternoons I spend working through derivative worksheets with my tutee, who immigrated from China at the age of twelve, are the same afternoons that teach me the importance of cultural awareness, empathy, and perseverance.
Throughout my time as a college student, I hope to continue learning from the many varied experiences of my peers and members of the broader Providence community. I plan to continue in my role as a tutor and eventually teach an even larger group of students through a study abroad program in Spain. While immersed in Spanish culture, I want to expand my grasp of the language so that I can reach a broader audience of curious youth back in the United States.
While my commitment to academic excellence in the classroom and passion for educating are reflected in my dedication to this scholarship, they’re also visible in my general curiosity, which expands far beyond any one setting. While most high schoolers spend their summers with their friends, I spend mine studying quantum computers and alien heads, better known as elliptic curves such as y^2 = x^3−5x+8, which are relevant to the field of encryption.
I distinctly remember staring wide-eyed the first time I saw a qubit sketch drawn by Dr. Lara Ismert, a professor of mathematics at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University and my internship mentor during the summers after my sophomore and junior years of high school. I imagined more powerful spheres lined up next to each other, each with magnetic fields destabilizing their surrounding brethren. The idea of a quantum computer baffled me as I struggled to connect pictures of shiny metal cylinders with wires running every which way to the neat, white Macbook on my parents’ desk. The foreign machine didn’t seem real, yet I was drawn to its implications for the world of encryption.
As a mentee of Dr. Ismert, I learned that the beauty of math is turning unfathomably complex ideas into tangible numbers and symbols scrawled across a blank page. This process is the same reason I choose to define myself as an educator. I love to turn the topics some may define as convoluted and difficult into topics that evoke excitement and curiosity, giving both myself and my tutees the opportunity to embrace new ideas and redefine our potential to be growing and malleable rather than fixed and unyielding.
My fascination with quantum computing and cryptography became the basis for my senior project, an analysis of how quantum computers are affecting encryption algorithms. My project, however, was not just an exploration of encryption or quantum mechanics — it was an opportunity to share these topics with a much larger audience. The last time I set foot in a high school classroom was to present my research with an interactive presentation and booklet — a final opportunity to teach from a whiteboard in my hometown. This time, it wasn’t just my brother sitting in the audience — it was teachers, friends, peers, and community members. I wasn’t just providing my audience with mathematical knowledge; I was giving them the opportunity to embrace their own digital security and excitement at learning something new. Throughout college and beyond, I plan to continue creating opportunities to satisfy my curiosities, specifically within the field of mathematics. I hope to do research as an undergraduate and eventually pursue a PhD in pure math that will allow me to fully delve into the mathematics that first caught my eye the summer after sophomore year. I also hope that by researching math at Brown University this fall, I can find new ways to spark the interest of others by showing that math is more than numbers; it is the future of humanity.
In my professional career, I plan to start a program for girls interested in pursuing higher education in the field of mathematics. I hope to give other girls the chance to turn lessons on long division into something bigger and to provide them with the support system to pursue their passion. I also hope to focus on rural and underprivileged areas to uplift youth with limited opportunities. By giving them a chance to explore their passion for math, I also hope to inspire them to teach others and continue spreading the desire to seek knowledge and share it with the world.