The Vibrancy in Deviation by Sophia

The Vibrancy in Deviation by Sophia - January 2026 Scholarship Essay

“Tossup, question 22. Biology, short answer. What is the primary constituent of the fungal cell wall?”
I tentatively moved my thumb to the bright red button of the buzzer in my hand. Ding!
“A3?”
“Peptidoglycan?”
“Incorrect.”

Until that day, my performance in eighth-grade Science Bowl would have been best described as cautious. I avoided answering anything that I wasn’t absolutely certain of. Typically, mistakes in school are private: a red mark on the paper that only goes to me, a grade for no eyes but my own. But not in Science Bowl. Here, a mistake is unmistakably and irrevocably public.

My initial caution arose from doubt. As the only girl on our teams of ten, I felt an inherent need to prove my place, against both the expectations of a teacher who always asked for the boys to practice first and of my teammates who blazed through questions. Getting a single question wrong seemed catastrophic. When it inevitably happened, I lapsed into embarrassed silence for the rest of practice. But the next week, no one remembered.

From that mistake forward, I gradually shed the idea that my status as the only girl demanded perfection. As practices went on, I became bolder; I took risks in answering and welcomed mistakes that resulted (and, of course, learned that the fungal cell wall is composed of chitin). I carried this perspective beyond Science Bowl, learning to push past expectations of my identity to forge new paths for myself. The first few steps down each were always accompanied by mistakes, but I no longer feared them—instead, I awaited the invaluable lessons that I knew they would bring.

This newfound belief in my strength, no matter what mistakes I made, allowed me to take risks that, just a few years prior, I could not have dreamed of. Disregarding society's imposition that I, as a girl, be secondary in STEM abilities, I ran for and was elected President of Science Club. Disregarding my parents' belief that politics is not a place for immigrants, I knocked on strangers' doors as I canvassed for local candidates whose platforms I resonated with. In pushing myself to be more than what others expected of me, I formed unexpected connections and found unimaginable color.

My willingness to diverge from limits placed on me by my identity, even when it inevitably involves error, has bolstered my exploration of various paths throughout high school. But most importantly, it has become a critical lesson for the next generation. I now lead practices, where, amidst reading questions and explaining concepts, I remind the kids that it can never hurt to guess and celebrate when that encouragement helps someone to answer for the first time. And to the girls, I add an extra message—the one I needed to hear in eighth grade: you are capable and resilient and can forge any path you choose.