I still remember my first creation: an eighteen-piece Lego spaceship. The packaging was labeled for ages four and up. At the time, I was three and unwilling to let some small box tell me what I was ready for, so I obliterated the package and whipped the Legos together. Even though there was only 18 pieces, my fingers shook with excitement as the spaceship took shape. After finishing my creation, I sprinted to my mom, showing her the completed spaceship.

“Wow, you made that all by yourself? The box says for four-years-old and you are only three,” said my mother.

Those words rattled inside my underdeveloped adolescent brain until that phrase burrowed into my sub-conscious. I could build whatever I wanted with the right amount of determination.
Once I started building things, I couldn’t stop. I made houses out of boxes, two feet-tall Lego robots, and even shelves (with help from my dad).

At 16, I built my own gaming computer that played Battle Field 3 on ultra quality. The idea came to me from one of my friends when he was looking up computer parts in school. Once I had all of my school work done, I asked him how a computer works. He told me the basics and opened my eyes to how complicated computers are. After school, I ran home and spent the rest of the day watching how-to videos, graphics card performance tests, and videos tips. The thought of building my own computer infected my brain.

I spent the next week picking out computer parts.

After hours of research and budgeting, the parts were picked out. I checked the order five times to make sure every component would fit and work together. Once I was one hundred percent confident, I placed the order. As the days went by a pile of brown boxes formed in the corner my computer room. All of the parts were shipped individually. Every day, a new part arrived and taunted me, as I waited for the rest to come.

When the final part arrived all of my computer parts were gathered and the kitchen counter was cleared for my computer assembly. I opened the computer case and started to assemble the parts. The computer was completely assembled under fifteen minutes but something felt as if it was missing…The wires! I had forgotten to wire all of the parts together. With a quick reference to the motherboard manual, the wires were plugged into their new homes. Then I ran into the computer room and snagged a spare monitor, keyboard, and mouse. They were plugged in and the power button was pressed.

The machine gasped for air as the fans started. The fans spun faster until the screen flashed. Then, the fans slowed down to a gentle hum and the monitor displayed a loading screen. I did it. My computer worked. Now, the computer needed its software, so I popped the disks into the computer. After two hours, the screen flashed and the computer was ready to use. The assembly was a success.

Building computers or Lego spaceships is not always about the final product. Sometimes the most meaningful part of building something is about the hard work or the determination to make a hard task easy. Building has shown me that it is more than just a hobby—it is something that I use to push myself.