Minecraft Forever Fan Scholarship

Minecraft has always been more than a game for me—it’s a virtual home where my cousins and I built a world that felt like ours, even though an airplane’s distance kept us apart. My favorite memory from Minecraft will always be the little town I created, complete with houses, pools, gardens, and even wishing wells. Each cousin had their own home, and they’d eagerly gather around my iPad, calling dibs on the house they wanted and sharing ideas for new designs. It was a pure, shared joy as we crafted this town together, piece by piece. I was the “builder-in-chief,” happily taking suggestions for renovations. I would rework wallpapers, floors, and beds, making each house feel uniquely theirs—unless I was too stubborn to let go of my original designs. I loved showing them what I’d built, perching on the arm of the couch, while they squished together, waiting for their turn to tour “their” house. Even though they couldn’t play alongside me, they were in that world with me, and that was everything. I have an older cousin who lives just a few minutes away, and I distinctly remember using his Minecraft account purely for the thrill of absolute chaos. With his account, I’d blow things up, drop horses from the sky, pester every villager I could find, and release armies of cats into every house—the kind of joyful, messy mayhem that’s only possible in Minecraft. My own account? That was sacred territory, kept pristine and perfect. But on his account, there were no rules. I even ventured into Survival mode, convinced I’d be fine. Spoiler alert: I was not. Within minutes, I’d been eaten by wolves, drowned in the sea, and probably crying because a spider was chasing me. In the end, I had to admit that my wild adventure in Survival was a solid 3/10 experience—fun for the stories, but I’d definitely recommend sticking to Creative mode! I deleted my beloved world years ago to make space on my device, but its essence remains vivid in my heart. Now, my younger siblings create their own Minecraft worlds, and I’m reminded of that same warmth I felt as a little kid. Whenever they show off their creations, it feels like a spark of my memories, reigniting that special connection. We live under the same roof now, and playing together is easier, but the joy of showing off a space that you built with someone else in mind remains as powerful as ever. For me, Minecraft will always symbolize connection and shared joy. It taught me that creativity can bridge distances and make memories that last long after the game is turned off.