“Education can truly change your life”

She bolted out of her room to share the news with her mother and younger sister. Her mother burst into tears of joy. She had never doubted that Norica would get into university—she had seen her daughter’s determination throughout all her school years. Norica was about to become the first in her family to attend university—a dream her mother had held onto ever since she herself had been forced to abandon her education due to poverty, never enrolling in high school.

Norica had just turned 19, and to officially become a student at the Faculty of Electronics, Telecommunications and Information Technology in Bucharest, all that remained was to pass her baccalaureate exam. At school, her teachers congratulated her, and for a while, her classmates jokingly called her “Miss Engineer.” Even now, if someone asks her what makes her happiest in life, she always says: “The fact that I got into university and made my parents proud.”

At just six years old, before even starting primary school, Norica was already doing calculations and memorizing multiplication tables. “Let’s write 1, 2, 3,” her mother encouraged her back then, noticing how Norica always gravitated toward math.

Her mother, Ana Maria, 41, understood early on the importance of being involved in her children’s education. Having only completed eight years of school herself, she was determined to support her daughters in staying committed to their studies. “School is learned at school, but half of it is learned at home.”

Norica’s father has worked in Bucharest as a driver for nearly 20 years, coming home only twice a month. So Ana Maria took on everything—managing the house, garden, and animals—while also ensuring that both Norica and her younger sister, eight years her junior, stayed on track with their education.

From a young age, Norica filled her summers with math exercises and problem sets from workbooks that her mother bought from the city. Since she was always among the first to finish assignments in class, her teacher gave her extra exercises and encouraged her to compete in math contests.

In 2019, as she entered eighth grade, her teachers recommended her for UiPath Foundation’s Future Acceleration Program. This meant tutoring in Math and Romanian, summer camps in the mountains and a monthly scholarship to support her studies until she turned 18.

At the time, Norica dreamed of applying to military high school. She was fascinated by her father’s old photos from when he was a “child of the regiment”, having gone through military education himself. Though he had told her that his childhood had been tough, marked by strict discipline and constant orders, she still held onto the idea. To her, a military high school meant job security. That year, while preparing for the National Evaluation exam, Norica also trained for the physical entrance exam required for military school. Her parents accompanied her to the exam, but she missed passing the endurance test by just a few hundredths of a second.

“I didn’t expect it,” Norica says. “I was really disappointed because everything had gone perfectly during training.” Seeing her family relieved that she hadn’t been admitted felt strange, but she tried to manage her emotions and find the silver lining. “I knew I couldn’t just break down over this.” And so, Plan B took shape: applying to the top mathematics and computer science high school in Tecuci.

Not everyone—neighbors, friends—believed she would make it. “They told me I’d drop out after the first semester, that even though I had high grades here, at my school, it wouldn’t compare to what’s expected in the city.”

But then there were the quiet words of encouragement from Olimpia Tudor, local coordinator of UiPath Foundation and social worker in the team of its strategic partner, Inimă de Copil Foundation, who reminded her that she had everything she needed to succeed. “That was the first time we had a real conversation about encouragement,” Olimpia recalls. “But truthfully, she didn’t need much—she was strong and mature enough already.”. Her mother, Ana Maria, agrees. “The advice she received from the Foundation helped her a lot,” she says. “Because in life, it’s not just about money. Sometimes, a single piece of advice, given at the right moment, can mean so much more and help you even further in life.”

Norica scored a perfect 10 in Mathematics on the National Evaluation exam, securing her place at her desired high school. But her first year wasn’t easy—it coincided with the pandemic. With poor internet connection, following classes on her phone was a challenge. Despite financial struggles, her father saved up and bought her a laptop to make learning easier.

After the pandemic, Norica woke up at 5 AM every day, caught the 6:30 bus leaving from her village and reached the city around 7. Since school opened later, she would spend time in a café, reviewing lessons rather than waiting in the cold. In her final year of high school, she set her sights on Politehnica. Her physics teacher, who had grown fond of her, encouraged her to apply, saying she had potential for a career in IT. They worked together on extra lessons, but beyond solving physics problems, what truly mattered to Norica was how the teacher helped her believe in herself.

Now, Norica has just finished her first semester of university, which she describes as surprisingly easy—almost like a continuation of high school. She particularly enjoyed Fundamentals of Electrical Engineering, so much so that her classmates asked her to organize study sessions in the reading room. She had never done this before, except for helping her younger sister with math.

Lately, she’s even considered a transitional job as a math tutor, so she enrolled in the teaching certification module. Some of her classmates already work with children to earn extra money. She hopes to receive a merit-based scholarship in her second semester.

Bucharest feels expensive—she’d love to be able to buy herself new clothes, but for now, the money from her parents only covers transport and some basic meals. The city still overwhelms her with its constant crowds, which is why she avoided exploring it much during her first semester. She lives on campus, sharing a dorm room with a former high school classmate, something that helps her feel a little closer to home.

After classes, she has a ritual of phone calls—first to her mother, then to her younger sister, whom she often reassures, telling her not to stress over grades or what others say. Then, she calls her grandmother. She also talks to her boyfriend, a student in a different city in Romania, and when they run out of things to say, they play Ludo on their phones—a strategy board game. Some nights, dorm friends join in too.

Every Friday, she takes the train home and returns Sunday night, carrying the food package her mother has prepared—schnitzels, stuffed cabbage rolls—and recharged with the warmth of her childhood bedroom, which she still misses.

Her biggest fear is that she’ll never fully adjust to the restless energy of Bucharest. But as someone who defines herself by ambition, she’s giving herself time to adapt. Even in all its chaos, this city might just hold the key to her future in software—the new plan taking shape in her mind. But before anything else, she wants to give herself time to appreciate how far she has come.

If she could go back and speak to her 12 or 13-year-old self, the one who was determined to prove everything she knew, she’d tell her: “Have more confidence in yourself. Don’t be afraid to dream. Education really can change your life. And most importantly—don’t let obstacles or the opinions of others discourage you. The only thing that matters is to keep moving forward.”