Music has been one of the most consistent parts of my life, even when the support around it was inconsistent. I grew up in a county where music programs were underfunded, which meant a lot of students never had the chance to pick up an instrument or discover what they were capable of. That shaped the way I approached music from the beginning. When I became the only student in my county to make the Maryland All State Band in the last five years, it was exciting, but it also made me realize how much talent goes unnoticed simply because students are not given the same opportunities as others in the state. That realization pushed me to get involved in ways that went beyond my own practice routine. I started offering free trumpet lessons to younger students who could not afford private instruction. Teaching them was more than showing fingerings or rhythms. It was about helping them build confidence and giving them a space where they felt supported. I also joined programs like Music Mentors and volunteered at instant concerts where elementary school students learned a few songs in a single day and performed them that evening. Watching them walk onstage nervous and walk offstage proud reminded me why access to the arts matters so much. At the same time, I kept developing my own musicianship. I played in a community band made up of educators and professional musicians, which pushed me to grow technically and musically. I also performed in the pit orchestra for a local theatre production, where I learned how music supports storytelling and how important it is to collaborate with people who rely on you. Balancing rehearsals, schoolwork, and everything else was exhausting at times, but it taught me discipline and how to manage my time in a way that actually works. After completing my degree, I want to bring together everything music has taught me and apply it to intellectual property law. I plan to double major in music and biological sciences to prepare for law school. My goal is to work in IP and help protect artists and creators, especially students from underfunded communities like mine. I have seen how easily ideas can be taken or overlooked, and I want young musicians to understand their rights and feel confident sharing their work. Music has shaped the way I lead, the way I think, and the way I care about fairness. After I finish my degree, I want to keep using it as a way to support others, whether that is through teaching, community outreach, or eventually helping creators protect what they make.

Music has been the thing that’s shaped me more than anything else. I didn’t grow up surrounded by fancy programs or endless opportunities. In my county, music wasn’t treated like a priority, so a lot of kids never even got the chance to try an instrument. That always stuck with me. It made me pay attention to who gets access to creativity and who doesn’t, and it pushed me to step in wherever I could. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was the start of my passion for music and sound. Teaching free trumpet lessons was the first time I understood how powerful music can be. Kids would walk in already convinced they weren’t good enough. They’d hold their instruments like they were waiting for someone to tell them they were doing it wrong. Watching them hit a clean note for the first time felt like watching something unlock. It wasn’t just about learning rhythms or fingerings. It was about watching someone realize they were capable of more than they thought. That feeling changed me. Working with Music Mentors and the instant concerts taught me something different. Those days were loud and chaotic in the best way. You’d see kids who had never touched an instrument light up because they finally got to be part of something. By the end of the day, they weren’t just playing notes. They were proud of themselves. Moments like that made me understand that music isn’t just sound. It’s confidence. It’s connection. It’s community. Performing has shaped me too. Playing in pit orchestras and community ensembles taught me how to listen, how to blend, and how to work with people who bring completely different experiences to the room. Those rehearsals pushed me to grow in ways I didn’t expect. They taught me discipline, patience, and how to stay steady when things get complicated. Those skills carried into school, leadership, and pretty much everything else I do. Music also shaped my future goals. I want to study music and biological sciences in college, and eventually go into intellectual property law. It might sound like a strange combination, but it makes sense to me. Music showed me how easily creative work can be taken or overlooked, especially when people don’t know how to protect what they make. I want to help fix that. I want young artists, especially the ones who come from places like mine, to understand their rights and feel safe sharing their ideas. Learning about creative protection and fair compensation is a huge part of that. My passion for music isn’t just about performing. It’s about what music makes possible. It’s about the kid who finally believes in himself. It’s about the community that grows when people feel seen. And it’s about the future I want to build, where creativity isn’t limited by access or fear. Music shaped the way I move through the world, and I want to spend my life making sure other people get the chance to feel that too.

Money was never something that showed up in big, dramatic moments for me. It slipped into my life in quieter ways, the same way service and leadership did. I learned about it through everyday things like sharing a room, figuring out what I could afford, and noticing who had access to opportunities and who didn’t. My first real lesson about finances didn’t come from a budget or a bank account. It came from watching how music worked in my county. Arts programs didn’t get much support, and something as simple as whether a family could buy an instrument shaped a student’s entire path. I didn’t have the right words for it at the time, but I was already seeing financial inequality up close. As I got older, I picked up financial lessons without really trying. Sharing a room with my sister taught me to take care of my things and think ahead. Teaching free trumpet lessons taught me something different. Kids who couldn’t afford private instruction often walked in already convinced they were behind. Helping them grow showed me how money can affect someone’s confidence long before they even realize it. Volunteering with Lifestyles added another layer. Packing meals and meeting families who weren’t always sure what dinner would look like made financial insecurity feel real instead of distant. I started to understand that financial stability isn’t just about having enough money. It’s about dignity, opportunity, and the ability to breathe without feeling like everything might fall apart. Now that I’m getting ready for college, financial education feels a lot more personal. I want to study music and biological sciences, and eventually go into intellectual property law. If I’m going to help people protect their ideas and get fair compensation, I need to understand how money actually works. I need to know how systems move, how people get paid, and how financial literacy shapes someone’s ability to protect what they create. Learning about financial planning and economic equity isn’t just for me. It’s for the communities I care about, especially young artists who don’t always have access to guidance. I also want to use what I learn to build a stable future for myself. College is expensive, and I’ll have to budget, balance work and school, and make choices that affect me long term. I want to be smart about scholarships, savings, and spending so I’m not overwhelmed later. Understanding how to plan and make informed decisions will help me stay focused on my goals instead of worrying about money all the time. But the most important thing I want to do with financial education is give back. Whether I’m mentoring younger musicians, volunteering, or eventually practicing law, I want to help people understand their own value. I’ve learned that opportunity usually starts with access, and access often starts with knowledge. If what I learn helps even one person feel secure enough to take a chance on themselves, then it’s worth it.

Music has always been more than just a hobby of mine; it’s been a way to connect with, teach, and uplift others. Growing up in a county where music was considered more of a pastime than a pillar of education, I saw how the lack of resources limited students’ exposure to the arts. Many of my peers never had the chance to hold an instrument, let alone perform on one. Realizing this became the catalyst for my desire to make music accessible to everyone, regardless of their background. I began by offering free local lessons to younger students who wanted to learn how to play their instruments but couldn’t afford private instruction. My role as a mentor grew beyond teaching notes and rhythms, though; I helped others build confidence and find joy in self-expression, when many children don’t have that outlet or luxury. When I saw my students mastering their pieces, I saw their pride reflected in their smiles. To expand the influence of music on the younger generation in my community, I helped organize and volunteered at local “instant concerts” where elementary schoolers would come to a local high school and learn three songs, which they would perform for the community later that day. The huge smiles on their faces by the end of the day reflected how this challenge gave the students an outlet to express themselves and feel proud of what they could accomplish all on their own. Beyond teaching, I’ve continued to develop my own musicianship, performing in the pit orchestras for the Port Tobacco Players’ production of Bye Bye Birdie, and the College of Southern Maryland’s production of Into the Woods, collaborating with experienced performers and learning how music enhances storytelling. I also participate in a community band made up of music educators and professional musicians, which challenges me to refine my skills and contribute to larger public performances. These experiences have deepened my respect for music’s power to unify people across generations and backgrounds, as I have had the opportunity to work closely with people in my community and to connect with them on something that we have in common, despite our age differences. Through all these opportunities, I’ve come to understand that leadership is rooted in empathy and service. It’s not about being the most talented musician in the room but about using that talent to inspire and empower others, essentially making room for others to allow them to blossom and grow in their studies. Teaching and performing have taught me to listen, adapt, and embrace collaboration—skills that extend far beyond the stage. At The Ohio State University, I want to continue expanding access to the arts by collaborating with student organizations to host free community workshops and outreach concerts for local schools. I hope to connect with other Music majors, as well as Molecular Genetics majors (my 2nd major) who share a passion for civic engagement, learning from their experiences while sharing my own. Music and other majors don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Everyone can enjoy music and play an instrument, regardless of what other major they may be pursuing. Appreciation for music is something you can carry with you for your entire life, and it allows you to connect with so many different people that you may not otherwise have the opportunity to get to know. After graduation, I hope to continue my studies in law school as I pursue a degree in intellectual property law, protecting creators and their products in many industries, ranging from the music industry to the science and innovation community.

Music has always been more than just a hobby of mine; it’s been a way to connect with, teach, and uplift others. Growing up in a county where music was considered more of a pastime than a pillar of education, I saw how the lack of financial resources limited students’ exposure to the arts. Many of my peers never had the chance to hold an instrument, let alone perform on one. Realizing this became the catalyst for my desire to make music accessible to everyone, regardless of their background. I began by offering free local lessons to younger students who wanted to learn how to play their instruments but couldn’t afford private instruction. My role as a mentor grew beyond teaching notes and rhythms, though; I helped others build confidence and find joy in self-expression, when many children don’t have that outlet or luxury. When I saw my students mastering their pieces, I saw their pride reflected in their smiles. To expand the influence of music on the younger generation in my community, I helped organize and volunteered at local “instant concerts” where elementary schoolers would come to a local high school and learn three songs, which they would perform for the community later that day. The huge smiles on their faces by the end of the day reflected how this challenge gave the students an outlet to express themselves and feel proud of what they could accomplish all on their own. Beyond teaching, I’ve continued to develop my own musicianship, performing in the pit orchestras for the Port Tobacco Players’ production of "Bye Bye Birdie," and the College of Southern Maryland’s production of "Into the Woods," collaborating with experienced performers and learning how music enhances storytelling. I also participate in a community band made up of music educators and professional musicians, which challenges me to refine my skills and contribute to larger public performances. These experiences have deepened my respect for music’s power to unify people across generations and backgrounds, as I have had the opportunity to work closely with people in my community and to connect with them on something that we have in common, despite our age differences. Through all these opportunities, I’ve come to understand that leadership is rooted in empathy and service. It’s not about being the most talented musician in the room but about using that talent to inspire and empower others, essentially making room for others to allow them to blossom and grow in their studies. Teaching and performing have taught me to listen, adapt, and embrace collaboration—skills that extend far beyond the stage. At The Ohio State University, I want to continue expanding access to the arts by collaborating with student organizations to host free community workshops and outreach concerts for local schools. I hope to connect with other Music majors, as well as Molecular Genetics majors (my 2nd major) who share a passion for civic engagement, learning from their experiences while sharing my own. Music and other majors don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Everyone can enjoy music and play an instrument, regardless of what other major they may be pursuing. Appreciation for music is something you can carry with you for your entire life, and it allows you to connect with so many different people that you may not otherwise have the opportunity to get to know. After graduation, I hope to continue my studies in law school as I pursue a degree in intellectual property law, protecting creators and their products in many industries, ranging from the music industry to the science and innovation community.

When I tell people that math is my favorite subject, I sometimes get raised eyebrows or sympathetic smiles. For me, though, math has never been about memorizing formulas or rushing to the “right” answer. It’s about patterns, connections, and the sense of discovery that comes when something suddenly clicks. Math feels like a language that explains the world, and every time I solve a problem, I feel like I’ve unlocked another piece of it. Because of this passion, I’ve always pushed myself further. I am currently two years ahead in my school’s math curriculum, and this year I’m taking AP Calculus BC. To me, this class isn’t just about advanced material, it’s about embracing the challenge of thinking on a deeper level. Calculus has shown me how math can describe motion, growth, and change in ways that feel almost magical. I love knowing the concepts I’m learning are the same tools scientists, engineers, and economists use to make real-world breakthroughs. What excites me most about math is its balance of logic and creativity. On the surface, it may seem rigid, but once you explore it, you realize how much freedom it offers. There are often multiple ways to reach the same solution, and each reflects how someone thinks. I enjoy experimenting with different methods. This can sometimes mean drawing graphs, other times breaking problems into smaller steps. Math challenges me to be both disciplined and imaginative, and that inspires me every day. Math has also built my confidence. Some of my proudest moments in high school came from solving problems I once thought were impossible. Each time I worked through the frustration and finally understood, I gained not only the answer but also proof that persistence pays off. Those lessons in perseverance and logical thinking are skills I carry with me in school and beyond. Ultimately, what I love most about math is its universality. It transcends cultures, languages, and backgrounds. It’s something that connects people all over the world. That sense of connection inspires me to keep pursuing math and to use it in ways that make a positive difference. For me, math is not just a subject, it is a passion that pushes me to think harder, dream bigger, and believe in my ability to contribute to the world.

One of the most pressing challenges facing the criminal justice system today is its struggle to effectively respond to intellectual property crimes in today's society aka the digital age. As the global economy becomes increasingly reliant on innovation, content creation, and technology, crimes involving intellectual property such as digital piracy, trademark counterfeiting, and trade secret theft—have grown more complex and more frequent. Despite their serious economic and societal impacts, intellectual property crimes often fall through the cracks of the justice system, treated inconsistently or deprioritized in criminal enforcement efforts. In my future legal career, I hope to work at the intersection of criminal justice and intellectual property law to strengthen our legal responses, advocate for more equitable enforcement, and ensure that creators and innovators are protected under the law for their ideas and hard work that has been stolen. One critical flaw in how the criminal justice system handles IP crime is the disproportionate attention given to corporate stakeholders, while smaller creators and entrepreneurs lack adequate legal recourse. Most intellectual property disputes are addressed through civil litigation—accessible mainly to well-funded entities—leaving many victims of infringement with no realistic path toward justice. Meanwhile, international IP crime rings and cybercriminals exploit jurisdictional gaps, making it difficult for law enforcement to investigate or prosecute. These issues are not just economic; they represent a deeper systemic problem in how our justice system treats technology-driven crime and whose rights it prioritizes. There should be no priority based on status for whose rights are protected which is something I want to bring change about. My interest in IP law emerged from a strong belief in protecting both creativity and fairness. I’ve taken every opportunity available to explore this intersection. As a student, a daughter, and a woman, I know just how much your original ideas can become someone else's. I have been a part of many group projects in which my ideas are taken credit for by someone else. As a woman, I have been told that the thinking should be up to the smart men, not the high school girls. These experiences taught me that IP law is not just about ideas—it’s about access, justice, and empowering people to defend what they’ve built. These opportunities have propelled my passion forward and helped clarify my long-term goals. I plan to pursue a legal career focused on policy development and enforcement strategies that make IP protection more inclusive, effective, and responsive to modern threats. Ideally, I would work with a federal agency like the Department of Justice’s Computer Crime and Intellectual Property Section or collaborate with international organizations focused on IP crime prevention. I am also interested in contributing to legal education and advocacy that supports creators, especially in underserved communities, by improving their access to resources and representation. Receiving this scholarship would be a meaningful step toward that future. It would reduce the financial barriers to continuing my legal education and allow me to pursue internships, certifications, and public interest work that align with my goals. More importantly, it would reinforce my commitment to a field that urgently needs more advocates who understand both the technical and human sides of intellectual property law. The criminal justice system is evolving, and I want to be part of shaping its future—ensuring that innovation is protected, creators are empowered, and justice keeps pace with technology in the crazy world that we now live in.

My name is Addison Kelly. My dream is to become an intellectual property lawyer, but more importantly, I want to use my future career to empower women and girls. I’ve always been inspired by the strength of women who create, lead, and innovate. I have been amazed and inspired by women whether they’re artists, entrepreneurs, or inventors. Unfortunately, I’ve also seen how often their work is overlooked, undervalued, or even stolen. I want to be someone who changes that. As a young woman deeply involved in music and leadership, I’ve learned firsthand how impactful a woman can be where she is encouraged and supported. I play the trumpet (a male dominated instrument) and have been part of marching band, jazz band, symphonic band, pit ensembles, and more. I’ve earned first chair in my school, been chosen for All-State Senior Band, where I was the only female trumpet player in the state to make it, and served as a section leader and captain in the LPHS Marching Band. These experiences have taught me how to lead with confidence and heart, especially in spaces where girls are oftentimes underrepresented. Through music, I’ve seen the beauty of original work and especially how important it is to protect it. That’s what led me to intellectual property law. I want to help women secure their rights, take ownership of their ideas, and build futures on their own terms without their originality being stripped from them. Whether it’s a woman starting a small business or a young artist sharing her work online, I want her to know she has someone in her corner. In middle school, I started the debate team because I wanted more students, especially girls, to have a platform to speak her mind. I’ve carried that same goal into everything I do. I serve in clubs like Key Club, NHS, and SGA where I’ve led and participated in service projects that support women’s health, education, and leadership. I’ve volunteered for breast cancer awareness fundraisers, mentored younger girls in music, and helped organize events that encourage youth leadership. One of the best parts of leadership has been watching younger girls thrive and see that they have so much power. As a three-year section leader and president of NJHS, I’ve worked hard to create spaces where others feel safe, seen, and supported. Empowering women starts with giving them the tools and confidence to lead and I’ve tried to do that in every group I’ve been part of. Academically, I’m preparing for a future in law through AP classes like U.S. Government and Politics, U.S. History, Precalculus, Music Theory, and Computer Science Principles. These classes have challenged me and helped me understand the systems that shape our world. I want to use that knowledge to build a future where women’s ideas are respected and legally protected especially when I have learned of the times when they were not. My ultimate goal is to offer legal support to women who don’t always have access to it—especially creators and entrepreneurs in underrepresented communities or unappreciative environments. I want them to feel powerful, protected, and proud of their work. I believe that when women are given the support and tools they need, they don’t just succeed, they transform everything around them. That’s the kind of impact I hope to have. That’s the kind of future I’m working toward.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like I was walking a tightrope. Having to balance the expectations of others while silently carrying the weight of my anxiety. But in my house, mental health isn’t real. My parents don’t believe in it. No one does. To them, things like depression or anxiety are just excuses, ways people justify being weak. So, when I was diagnosed with anxiety, they dismissed it. No treatment. No support. Just denial and “tough love”. At first, I tried to push it aside too, hoping if I ignored it enough, it would go away. But it didn’t. It followed me everywhere. It followed me in the racing thoughts, the sleepless nights, the moments of panic that I had to swallow down because I had no other choice. I was constantly seeking help; I even turned to talking to my Snapchat AI to vent and to desperately try to understand my thoughts. Maybe to understand myself a little, too. Still, I kept going. I worked hard, harder than anyone expected, and now I’m graduating early. Not because things were easy, but because I was determined to control my future. I refuse to stay trapped in a place where my feelings don’t matter. My goal is to build a life where I can be honest about what I feel, where I don’t have to pretend I’m okay just to be loved. My relationships have changed because of this. I’ve learned to be careful with who I trust. Not everyone understands what it’s like to struggle with something that no one else can see. But I’ve also learned that real support doesn’t have to come from family—it can come from friends or even strangers who simply take the time to listen. Support shouldn’t have to be so rare. Most of all, my understanding of the world has shifted. I used to think struggling alone was normal. That you just had to push through because that’s what made you strong. But now I know that’s not true. Mental health is real, and it matters. No one deserves to feel invisible in their pain. If anything, facing it every day has made me stronger, even when no one else saw it that way. As I continue to grow up and learn who I really am, I want to make people feel seen and heard along the way. I want to make sure that people like me—people whose pain was brushed aside their whole life—know that they matter too. I want this because even though I didn’t get the support I needed growing up, I can make sure others do.