From Displacement to the Stars: My Path to Studying Astrophysics
When I was five years old, the small window in our living room that overlooked an even smaller sky, and the telescope my father bought for my older sister, were all I needed to spend every night amazed by the beauty of the stars.
Now, hundreds of broken earphones sit somewhere in our house in Lebanon, the ones I used every single night to watch videos that explained a bit about those stars and our universe. I would fall asleep with them on, dreaming about the spaceship made out of cardboard that now lies beneath the wreckage of my old home.
Once we left Syria, it felt like I was no longer allowed to dream. The family that was once full of ambitious people I looked up to is now barely surviving. No more books, no more telescopes, no more science projects made out of cardboard, and no more dreams.
But I could not stay still. I had to tell the world about the home I left, and I had to share my pain with someone. So I started writing about magical girls and river treasures at first, but soon after, about the dreams I had to let go of. Through writing, I gained over 500,000 reads and received messages from people telling me they had never felt as deeply as they did while reading my stories.
Through writing, I realized at a very young age that every girl carries some private, hidden pain along with a wish. A wish to sit under a willow tree while the wind softly brushes her long hair, a wish to drive her own car across the country, and a dream of visiting the stars one day.
And that made me furious. At school, I brought up the topic of human rights every chance I got. I screamed countless times that the reason every scientist we hear about, from Einstein to Galileo, is a man, is not because women are incapable of studying science, but because they were denied education for a huge portion of history.
There is not much going on in the area where I live, and there was no space to build a community that could foster ambitious, strong-minded individuals. But there was the local mosque, where I found the opportunity to make a change.
For the last two years, every Sunday for almost three hours, I worked on building that community. We taught children not only the Quran, but also how to read and write, how to participate and speak up, and how much they could make of their lives if they invested in themselves and their education. I spent hours trying to convince my girls to return to the education they had given up on, which was not easy when they found it pointless and when society repeatedly told them they were only meant to raise children.
I wanted to inspire them, so I spoke about my dreams out loud and asked them to do the same. I told them that I am going to be an astrophysicist, that I will discover a great secret about the universe like Emmy Noether, and that I am going to write about them, about every single girl I know. I will tell the world how brilliant each girl is.
I knew before going to high school that if I wanted to attend university, I would need a scholarship. So I studied hard to achieve high grades, and thankfully, I earned the highest distinction on the country’s official exams. I was also the only student in my school’s General Science department to achieve this result.
However, the school I attended was not the best. A teacher’s strike lasted between three and four months each year, preventing us from completing the curriculum, so whenever I asked my teachers or the principal to allow us to open clubs or even do simple projects, I was always met with the same answer, “We don’t have time for that.” Still, I never stopped asking. At the end of my second year of high school, I was finally given a chance when our Arabic teacher allowed us to spend a class period in the school library researching an artist to present.
That was when I truly came alive. I introduced my group to one of my favorite artists, Vincent van Gogh, and we created a presentation that nearly brought our teacher to tears. Although I had been class president for most of my life, leading a project I was deeply passionate about and presenting it publicly was an experience I will always cherish.
During high school, I never had access to private tutoring. Instead, I offered to teach my friends physics for free. I worked on showing them how to approach equations, connect ideas, and organize their thinking in ways that would be useful during exams. I was able to do this because I learned how to conduct independent research. I took multiple open MIT courses and spent hundreds of hours watching physics lectures online. To make the most of these resources, I needed to improve my English, as there are very few materials available in Arabic. I began joining online English-speaking communities, where I made friends from different countries and was introduced to many cultures, which made me far more open to the world.
I later joined several translation teams working on television shows and series, and I even started a YouTube channel where I translated my favorite music tracks. The channel has now accumulated over 5.5 million views.
Studying astrophysics and leaving Lebanon to explore the wider world has always been my dream. I knocked on every door and searched relentlessly for opportunities to continue my education, but I have not yet been successful. Over the past year and a half, I have taken advantage of every open course available online. While studying physics, I found myself captivated by the mystery of dark matter, which led me to seek opportunities to contribute to ongoing research. I now have over 100 hours of volunteer experience assisting Harvard researchers in identifying stellar streams, which indicate the presence of dark matter and help advance our understanding of the universe.
I have also become an ambassador for the HASSL Enterprise, an organization that works to end violence against women by shifting the blame from individuals to society and educating communities in various ways.
I have come to realize that if I want to understand the magic of the unreachable universe, I must begin by caring for our own planet. That is why I volunteer online as a graphic designer for the Amazon Shelter Organization, a skill I was able to develop over the summer.
In parallel, I am working toward publishing my writing. I have submitted my work to global competitions and publications, including The New York Times, The Sun Magazine, Brevity Magazine, and others. I have been in contact with editors and have received fee waivers for submission. I understand the time and dedication required to become a published author, and I am committed to that process.
Watching my high school friends now working toward their degrees has left me with a deep sense of heartache and hope. Hope for the day I will be able to attend university, for the moment I can repay my father for the hundreds of broken earphones I used to study astrophysics, and for the time when I will once again gaze at the stars through a telescope.
You can visit my campaign to know more about me.