This guest essay is by Morgan Lane (a pseudonym).
Published under a pseudonym at the applicant’s request. Identifying details have been generalized where needed. The accompanying image is a stock photograph.
Growing up with autism, I often found myself on the periphery of social interactions. The complexities of understanding body language, interpreting unspoken cues, and engaging in reciprocal conversations presented challenges that felt insurmountable at times. While my peers seemed to navigate friendships and group dynamics with ease, I struggled to decode the invisible rules of social engagement. This sense of isolation was not just emotional; it was deeply disorienting. I often felt like I was watching life unfold from behind a pane of glass, unable to fully participate.
As a child, I often felt alone in a crowd. I would watch other kids laughing, playing, and forming friendships with a kind of effortless grace that seemed completely out of reach for me. I wanted to join in, I longed for connection, but initiating conversations or knowing how to enter a group felt like trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces. Even when I did manage to form a few friendships, maintaining them proved difficult. As my peers grew older and their interests and social dynamics evolved, I struggled to keep up. The rules of interaction kept changing, and I often found myself left behind, unsure of how to reconnect or express that I still cared. These experiences taught me the quiet ache of social isolation, but they also deepened my appreciation for the rare moments of genuine connection I was able to build.
In these moments of solitude, I turned to my passions, cars and planes, which became more than mere interests; they were my companions, my teachers, and my friends. Unlike people, machines made sense to me. They operated on logic, precision, and predictability. There were no hidden meanings or confusing emotions, just systems waiting to be understood. The mechanical world offered me a refuge, a place where I could thrive without fear of misunderstanding or rejection.
From a young age, I was captivated by the intricate mechanics of vehicles and aircraft. While others engaged in social activities, I immersed myself in understanding the inner workings of engines and the principles of flight. I would spend hours poring over diagrams, watching videos, and tinkering with parts. The rhythmic hum of an engine or the sleek design of an aircraft offered a language I could understand, a language that didn’t require words but spoke directly to my soul. It was in these moments that I felt most connected to the world.
My journey into this world began with the an underwater robotics program, where my team and I designed and built a remotely operated vehicle. This was my first experience working collaboratively on a technical project, and it was transformative. Our success in placing at a regional competition and competing nationally was a testament to our dedication and teamwork. For me, it was more than a win, it was proof that I could contribute meaningfully to a group, even if my communication style was different. This experience ignited my passion for mechanical engineering and problem-solving, and it showed me that my strengths could shine in the right environment.
Furthering my interest, I enrolled in an automotive technology program in high school. This hands-on curriculum allowed me to deepen my understanding of vehicle systems and develop practical skills. I thrived in the structured, tactile learning environment, where I could see the immediate results of my work. My instructors recognized my focus and precision, and encouraged me to pursue opportunities beyond the classroom.
One of the most pivotal experiences came through an internship with a private aircraft mechanic. There, I worked on several types of aircraft. Each day brought new challenges and learning opportunities. I was trusted to perform tasks that required attention to detail and a deep understanding of aviation systems. The mechanic I worked with became a mentor, helping me bridge the gap between theory and practice. These experiences solidified my desire to pursue a career in aviation maintenance, a field where I could combine my love for machines with my commitment to safety and excellence.
While social interactions remained a challenge, my connection with machines provided a sense of belonging and fulfillment. They taught me patience, precision, and the value of hard work. Through these experiences, I have learned that while human connections are important, finding passion and purpose can also lead to personal growth and achievement. I’ve come to understand that my autism is not a limitation, it’s a different lens through which I view the world. It allows me to notice details others might miss, to approach problems from unique angles, and to remain deeply focused on tasks that require care and accuracy.
As I look ahead, I am excited to continue my journey in aviation maintenance. I hope to one day work on commercial aircraft, ensuring that every plane that takes off is safe and reliable. I want to be part of a team that values precision, integrity, and innovation. And I want to show others—especially those who feel like outsiders, that there is a place for them in this world, and that their passions can lead them to extraordinary places.
This essay was submitted to the KFM Making a Difference scholarship program, founded by Dr. Kerry Magro to support autistic students pursuing postsecondary education.
