Despite the large boxes full of desiccant, there was an unmistakable humidity and chlorinated chemical taste in our mouths. You'd be forgiven for assuming we were in a workshop if you only looked at the tools and equipment. My teammate's splashing in the pool brought me back into the moment. We were running our remotely operated vehicle (ROV) underwater at the MATE ROV Competition World Championship in Michigan. The controls had dropped out, and my software flashed a failure warning in bright red text that I'd hoped to never see when I programmed it.

When I first walked into that science classroom after school seven years ago to check out robotics, I had no idea it would end up taking me to states from Michigan to Oklahoma, Louisiana to Arkansas, and beyond. I had no idea it would lead to me starting a LEGO robotics team for six of the most enthusiastic homeschooled 2nd and 3rd-graders anyone could imagine. I had no idea I'd learn nonprofit finances and tax codes. Most of all, I had no idea it would give me a path to follow.

The Boulder High School Robosharks had a long history of moderate success, but that all ended with the passing of our main mentor in my freshman year. His death took the heart out of the team as well as removing the leadership, technical background, and education we had counted on. In the years since then, the team had barely fielded a robot for the world championship each year. We spent up until the last minute just trying to see something move in the pool. At the start of my junior year, I was appointed captain of the team and wanted to change that. We started off the year with a budget deficit and no functional robot. I put every possible minute of my life and every dollar I could fundraise towards our 2025 robot. Christened Wobbegong, our ROV was in a functional state three months before the world championship, and three months sooner than I'd ever experienced before.

Back in Michigan in the World Championship Competition Pool, everything was not going according to plan. Three months of CAD design, learning multiple new programming languages, personally machining 376 intricate metal components, debugging for weeks, and about 600 hours of my life were now sitting entirely motionless at the bottom of a pool 1,416 miles (2,279 km) from our shop back in Boulder. But I wasn't disappointed. I had brought our team from nothing to being poolside with ROVs from prestigious colleges. Now we were being judged alongside the best, and I couldn't have asked for more. That bright red flashing text would remind me of where our ROV had come from, and where I was going.