I spent hours staring at my fatherโs reef tank, completely mesmerized by the way the anemone looked like an alien, calling me like a siren. The supple curves of the anemoneโs tentacles drew my eyes almost as much as the vivid colors; the base of the foot was electric green that shifted to a brilliant hot pink at the bulbous tip, black-streaked through each tentacle like a myriad of dark lightning, and soft white speckled the entire animal like snow, lightly blanketed over everything else. This magnificent creature reached towards the light of the surface and the bubbled tips flowed around each other like helium balloons. When I touched it, the powerful nematocysts electrified my fingertips like the kiss of a firefly, but the skin was closer to that of a freshly cut mango; soft, vaguely slimy, and incredibly delicate.
ADG may just seem like a trio of letters to everyone else, but to me, they symbolize the birthplace of my love for science. Fish tanks line every available wall, blue coral lights cast rippling shadows on the ceiling, and the soft gurgle of rushing water provides the perfect soundtrack. Blue Hippo tangs (Dory!) munched on seaweed, schools of anthia ran laps around their tank, and eels slithered through PVC elbows. But none of this captured me. It was the thing that ADG is known for that drew me in. The Aquarium Design Group maintained a special darkroom in the back of the shop, mysteriously alluring with the sound of bubbling filters and waterfalls emitting from it. I ran to the room as if it were an old friend who welcomed me. My heart swelled through my chest and a grin stretched my face wide as my eyes ate up the beautiful living art in front of me. Layers of reef glowed under the blue lights, stony corals branched wide and unmoving while fleshy large polyped corals swung their long tentacles through the current. Hundreds of tiny flower-like corals carpeted the rocks and massive meaty doughnut corals loomed in the sand. Dozens of fish darted in and out of the intricate reef- some schooled, some dug burrows beneath the rocks, and some picked at the rocks with long snouts looking for stray algae to eat- but nothing captured me more than the smallest fish in the tank. Two tiny clownfish wheeled around in their anemone; diving, spinning, shimmying, and cuddling into the beautiful creature and adding life to its beauty. For years, I watched these two frolic in their anemone and today would be the day I could bring that joy home with me. I was eight years old, and today would be the day I would buy my very own clownfish and start a lifelong obsession.
As my obsession with aquatic animals bloomed, so did my curiosity about the biology, chemistry, and physics behind their way of life. What was the physics of waves? What elements did my water need so that my corals would grow? How did the zooxanthellae work with the coral to produce energy through photosynthesis? What was the biology of their relationship? How do my baby Conchs use the calcium from the water to grow their shells? How do they make the spiral pattern and spikes identical to their parentsโ? In my tanks, my love for biology has grown with my corals and it has become profoundly obvious to me that this is where I belong. Nothing sparks my enthusiasm like reading a scientific article detailing the digestive processes of Acanthophyllia Deshayesiana and I am overwhelmingly enthusiastic to have the opportunity to study under the guidance of experts in the field of biology. I am also excited to participate in research projects that are designed to develop methods to protect the environment, especially the ocean ecosystems, to preserve the Earth for future generations.