Student profile
Accepted into Yale | |
GPA: N/A | SAT: N/A |
Extracurricular activities: computer science, computational chemistry |
Discuss an accomplishment, event, or realization that sparked a period of personal growth and a new understanding of yourself or others. [650 words]
The Art of Synthesis
Throughout grade school, I was taught to use preexisting knowledge to solve a predetermined problem in a predetermined way. Science dealt with facts and logic, while creativity was the provenance of art. In my compartmentalized world, my young, analytical mind was immediately drawn to chemistry. Here was a realm of exactness, of molecules and measurement. Of dimensional analysis and significant figures. A world where I could predict the precise results of a chemical reaction using a balanced equation. It was mathematical and concrete. It just made sense.
During the summer after my sophomore year, I was selected to partake in Stanford University’s Summer Organic Chemistry Intensive Series. This was unlike anything I had experienced before. Gone was the safety of rote memorization and predictable products. Organic chemistry was a creature of experimentation and critical thinking. Very few questions I sought to tackle had a single correct answer. Hours were spent designing reaction schemes to form exotic compounds. I found myself cherishing the few powdery specks of product I saw at the bottom of my solution, the fruits of an afternoon of labor. I saw that joy turn to despair as the subsequent readout identified the specks as junk, intermediary molecules caught in the limbo before the finish line. Back to the drawing board. Long days in the lab left benzene rings and electron pushing arrows imprinted on my eyeballs. No amount of rinsing could get the pungent odor of acetone and rubber off my fingers. It was paradise.
For each day that summer, I witnessed the magical transformation of a classroom into a think tank where fantastical ideas whizzed across the room, each building upon the last. The boundaries of science were blurred as every explanation of witnessed events in the lab was contested, tweaked, and contested once more. Pure scientific knowledge melded into instinct as I debated the most efficient ways of synthesizing theoretical molecules. And slowly but surely, through the walls of case studies, problem sets, and lab work, I fell in love with the intuition and artistry that was necessary to solve scientific problems in the real world.
The next summer, I tackled the real world issue of designing and synthesizing molecules to treat a host of diseases. I wrote code and used software that allowed me to test the behavior and effectiveness of over six million compounds on a supercomputer at UNC. I saw my computer screen turn into a canvas for my mind. 0s and 1s turned to proteins that I could watch fold, and drugs that I saw bind. The first time I found a hit, I was ecstatic. This concoction of carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and sulfur could save lives!
But something was wrong. One night, as I twisted the molecule, scrutinizing every inch, I noticed an aberration from my expected data. With a swig of Coke, it was back to the code. The top ring is too close...This one’s never going to get near the critical residues. My simulations were clear - I could see the drug binding to the protein. All of the parameters had been met. The computer had given me the green light. But the computer wasn’t my brain. Make a judgement call.
Rather than a cerebral, logical process guided by the scientific method, research is a wild animal. No idea is too crazy, as failure is as encouraging as success. Real life, I have realized, is not about clean equations and exact measurements. It’s imperfect, unpredictable, and ever-changing. It’s about people, coming together experientially and in action to build To push the boundaries of human knowledge, one must first dream past the constructs of human experience. It is the “gut feelings” and “judgement calls” grounded in scientific knowledge, the intuition that lead to new ways of solving new problems.