By Lily Bourne
The Stanford community is deeply curious and driven to learn in and out of the classroom. Reflect on an idea or experience that makes you genuinely excited about learning.
I’ve visited paradise before. And not just once either. Growing up amid the towering forests of the Santa Cruz mountains, I’ve encountered the sublime beauty of the California wilderness, marveling at the interplay among all living things. In addition to wonder, these sights fill me with something else: a curiosity. Why do the elephant seals migrate to the same beach every year? Where does Karl, the San Francisco fog, come from? My earthly adventures feed a growing desire to understand the secrets of the living world right below my feet.
Hands-on experience out in the wild fueled my fascination with living systems, and junior year, I jumped at the chance to take AP Environmental Sciences. In class, the secrets of the natural world began to unfold, revealing complex chemical and physical systems that explained the seemingly magical processes I had questioned for years. Climate patterns and mating seasons explained the elephant seals on the coast; atmospheric temperature and upwelling, the rolling fog. The passion I cultivated through time spent outdoors found a hold in my academic setting at last, and I excelled in the class as I increased my knowledge of Earth’s systems.
Now armed with experience both in the classroom and out, I earnestly pursue more avenues to learn about my environment. Each perfect sunset, rushing river, and grand mountain range provides an opportunity to consider my place in nature. Embarking on new adventures as my world expands, I know I will never run out of questions to ask.
UC PIQ 3: What would you say is your greatest talent or skill? How have you developed and demonstrated that talent over time?
On a crisp summer morning, I prepare to reap the benefits of my newest project. Eagerly, I venture through my dead-grass-riddled backyard until an oasis greets me—four redwood planks, haphazardly screwed together by a teenage girl with minimal power tool experience. Inside, luscious green leaves of basil, strawberry, and lemon balm plants tickle my fingers as I reach for my prize: a cucumber, the length of my forearm.
In kindergarten, I begged for a few plants to tend to, but my family was never interested in gardening. Instead, I honed my skills by cultivating a community at my school, working with my peers to leave a legacy behind before I graduate. My storybook aspiration of remaining forever immersed in bursting beds of flora transformed into one of creating memories and serving my community at school. However, a few years into high school, my new job at the local nursery finally gave me the spark to pursue my horticulture dreams.
I first focused on preparation. Years of getting my hands dirty in Associated Student Body (ASB) leadership instantly translated into this exciting endeavor. Much like organizing events at school, I researched every aspect of the garden project, replacing vendors and contracts with seed packets and soil mixtures. Just as I carefully interviewed hundreds of applicants for my programs, I looked into each crop variety, selecting the best-fitting seeds and saplings.
Next came the planting. The tasks I did to ensure a perfect harvest-plotting out companion plants, balancing their properties to ward off pests—resembled my time organizing complex spreadsheets filled with lunch dates and carpool buddies to create the garden of personalities and backgrounds that defines ASB. Armed with my talent for cultivating projects and supporting their growth, I successfully prepared my garden.
Then, the wait. Steadily creeping higher, my grades and accomplishments resembled the sprouting vegetables; my passion and hard work, the fertilizer.
And now, the harvest. I watch with satisfaction as my strawberries and bell peppers flourish alongside my peers and mentees. Crunching a freshly picked cucumber between my teeth, I bask in the bounty of the growth I cultivated.