Andraka Jack - Breakthrough: how one teen innovator is changing the world

To my mother, Jane;

my father, Steve;

and my brother, Luke,

whose love and support

helped me through this journey

From:

To:

Date: April 22, 2011

Subject: Production of the antigen and antibody of pancreatic cancer RIP1

Dear Mr. Andraka,

I regret to inform you that your sensor proposed in the attached procedure would in no capacity perform its intended function. The idea of a carbon nanotube transistor would require such a massive amount of resources that the end product would be prohibitively expensive, incredibly delicate, and low in sensitivity and selectivity. Please consider trying a different approach.

Sincerely,

My parents were sitting across from me on the sofa, and they were not happy.

Jack, dont you think this idea is just a little far-fetched?

My father was wearing that worried lookagain. His eyebrows arched, his hand touching his chin.

My mother was sitting next to him. She stared straight ahead, arms folded across her chest, studying me intently. My parents had recently been forced to do some reassessing since my guidance counselor called. Ive learned that guidance counselors tend to call home when students have tried to commit suicide in a bathroom stall.

We just dont want to see you get hurt, Jack, she said.

She thinks I cant take the pressure.

You gave it a great try. Maybe its time to turn the page. Or set your sights on a different goal, she added.

A different goal? Give up?

I had invested too much time and fought too hard. And I was so... very... close.

It was clear how uncomfortable this whole experience was for my parents. I could see it in their eyes and their posture. They felt obligated to give me a reality check.

But I felt obligated to ignore it. In fact, I was no longer listening. I had zoned out. At this point, I could practically predict what they would say next, because I had already heard all these arguments in my own head a thousand times over.

The arguments went something like this: Who did I think I was? Did I really think that I knew better than all these PhD expert types? Did I really think that my idea would work?

No matter how much you believe in your idea, we all know it cant happen without someone willing to let you test it out in an actual laboratory, Jack.

I felt exhausted. I couldnt remember the last time I had gotten a full night of sleep. For months I had been running on nothing but adrenaline. I began to wonder if this was what it felt like to crash.

If youd discovered a new way to detect pancreatic cancer, dont you think that one of the doctors would have given you a chance?

Almost two hundred scientists. Not one thought my idea was credible enough.

What my parents couldnt see, what no one could see, was that in my minds eye, everything was so clear. A drop of blood on a strip of paper. That was all it would take to test for pancreatic cancer. It was simple, really. If I was right, I was on the brink of a groundbreaking early-detection test with the potential to save millions of people.

None of that mattered, though, if I never made it into a lab.

My parents turned toward each other. They were finally ready to make a decision. They knew how crucially I needed their support. Without it, how was I going to fund my research, or go get the supplies I needed? After all, at the age of fourteen, I wasnt able to drive the family station wagon by myself.

Okay, my mom finally said. Lets see where this goes.

It wasnt exactly a ringing endorsement, but it was all I needed.

My uncle had died. I had faced years of bullying and depression. This was what I had. I was not about to give up now.

Not when I was so close.

My test works. I know it does. I just have to prove it to the rest of the world. I just need that one chance.

I was born into a house that looked, from the outside, like the other houses on our block in suburban Maryland. But inside, our house was bursting with creative energy. My parents believed that life was a giant puzzle, and we had the happy task of discovering its infinite mysteries.

For my third birthday, my parents gave me a six-foot-long plastic model river, complete with running water. My father, Steve, who works as a civil engineer, thought it would be fun and educational. I spent hours dropping pieces of foam and other objects into my little river. Using different-sized rocks, I watched, utterly transfixed, all the ways obstructions would change the flow of the water. My very first science experiment was a huge successbanana peels sink.

When I was growing up, my mom, Jane, could turn even a boring car ride into an intense, brain-racking competition between my brother, Luke, and me. In most cases, the challenge began with an innocent question tossed out by my mom.

What would happen if the sun disappeared? Go! Mom asked.

Game on. From the backseat, my brother and I raced each other for the right answer.

The earth would shoot off its orbit! he shouted.

It would get really cold, I added.

As fast as my brain worked, Lukes moved even faster.

We wouldnt know about the sun disappearing for a full eight minutes because of the time it takes for light to travel.

He was so smart and he knew it. Show-off.

Thats not true, I protested.

Look it up, he said calmly, appearing way too satisfied. We both knew he was correct. He had an annoying habit of always being right.

After my mom felt like our brains had been thoroughly exhausted by one type of question (or, in my case, if she suspected I was on the verge of throwing one of my Im-tired-of-playing-this-game tantrums), shed abruptly move on to another, sometimes cutting us off mid-sentence.

Picture an imaginary frog jumping on a number line. The frog always jumps the same number of steps, but we cant tell you the interval. What numbers do you hit to catch the frog? Go!

Luke and I blurted out different patterns of numbers.

Zero, three, seven! Luke shouted.

One, four, nine! I chimed in.

We would know who got the right answer by the compliment from my mom that followed, which usually sounded something like Great job, Luke, followed by an overly exaggerated sigh huffing out of me.

I cant remember a time when I didnt want to be like my big brother. It seemed like anything he set his mind to he could accomplish, especially if it involved computers, video games, math, or building things. Especially building things. Luke, who had a two-year head start on me from birth, had always loved engineering. Even as a kid, he walked around the house with his little Phillips head screwdriver, taking things apart and trying to put them back together. Sometimes hed disappear outside, only to show up a few hours later with a broken radio that someone had tossed out in the trash.