At the age of five, I started visiting to travel my biological father. My step-mom was a raging alcoholic. She has drastically changed my outlook on alcohol from this fun drink to something that can turn some of the nicest people into monsters. I saw them twice a year till my eighteenth birthday. She continued to drink till the last time I saw her. After years of begging her, she finally got sober. The worst case of her drinking was the summer of my seventeenth year. She got very drunk and woke my siblings and I up, because the fan was on. She screamed at us so badly that we traveled four hours from the sunny state of New Jersey to Pennsylvania. The scariest part was that she got into her car to drive home. She woke up the next day, devastated and confused as to why her children had left her. By the time I was four, I was on the move across the country, from the heavily populated state of Pennsylvania to a small town on the California-Oregon border. From that point on, I’ve always been on the move: from traveling to see my biological father twice a year, to driving throughout California to visit family. I am constantly moving, whether visiting the ocean or volunteering once a week at the humane society, walking dogs. The wind tends to carry a slight whistle to it on cold winter days. In this small lumber and fishing town that I call home, the wind’s humming can be heard regardless of where you may find yourself going. Since my home is on the West Coast, it's constantly foggy and windy. The cold brings in a sense of comfort and peace, reminding me of my childhood and the days spent running outdoors. I never thought I would go to college since college here seems like a memorable dream that many young kids who come to my town rarely achieve. I never allowed myself to entertain the thought of truly pursuing a college education. Yet I found myself applying to a four-year university thousands of miles away. I’ve had to go through massive bumps and take huge strides in my walk of life to get where I am today. My life came to a complete halt when my mom divorced my stepdad. The devastation was felt throughout my entire home from that point on. It was heartbreaking, watching my siblings go through the pain they were forced to endure and not have the ability to stop it. I learned that while I may be unable to stop the pain, I can create a support system for them that will always be accessible for my siblings in times of hardship. I was able to create a safe place for them. I may not always live in Oregon or be constantly on the move, but I will always have my faith and family to fall back on. Perseverance and creating something beneficial out of harsh environments will continue to shape who I am and who I will become. My Tollowa heritage will always be shown through the little things in life by being connected to the earth. This notion resides in my people's way of being connected to the earth and protecting the home we have been given to take care of, which is why I've chosen to get my bachelor's in Plant Science and Plant Biology.

The cool, crisp air nips my face as I open up my window and stick my head outside. I look out the window to see the blue jays. I feel the warm sun rays beam on my face. I take a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill my lungs, before finally shutting the window. Doing what my ancestors did before me, I take out my thin, mottled, greenish-red-blue shell with a coarse spiral ribbing circle. I do this in reverence to those who came before me. I light the desert and white sage leaves mixed with dark cedar leaves. The silvered wispy smoke rises gracefully as if it's dancing upward to the heavens. I cup it before putting it over my head and to my heart. I breathe in the sweet, prickly, cool, herbaceous, peppery fumes filling my room, creating a sense of tranquility for my cat and me. This allows me to deepen my relationship with my heritage and Mother Earth. I do this to feel connected to the earth and feel at peace. My Tollowa heritage will always be shown through the little things in life by being connected to the earth. This notion resides in my people's way of being connected to the earth and protecting the home we have been given to take care of. The wind tends to carry a slight whistle to it on cold winter days. In this small lumber and fishing town that I call home, the wind’s humming can be heard regardless of where you may find yourself going. Since my home is on the West Coast, it's constantly foggy and windy. The cold brings in a sense of comfort and peace, reminding me of my childhood and the days spent running outdoors. This planet has produced many different plants, animals, and atoms that are crucial to keep the planet going. Personally, what catches my eye every time and what I find myself pondering over the most is the plants and how they operate. I have so many plants in my room that my mom jokes that I did that to ensure that I don't breathe the same oxygen as my sister. In order to impact the environment in my community, I am getting a degree in Plant Science and Plant Biology at Montana State University. I will then be obtaining my master's and even further my doctorate in Plant Pathology, so I can come back to my hometown and work for the Forest Service to cure plants of diseases.

By the ripe age of eleven, I fell in love with the English Language. The way a predicate adjective follows a linking verb encapsulates my every thought. My favorite thing to do is to take apart sentences and find the true subject in a very long sentence. I’ve always understood English. I was sent to a Christian school in my eighth-grade year and was challenged by a concise teacher. She pushed me to want to become an English teacher and pursue a college education. She ripped apart papers and made me start from scratch. Mrs. Lyhnn challenged me to become a better writer and to create works that made sense. Junior year, I was taken from the small Christian school with a student population of around 40 students that I had grown to love, and placed in a school with around 540 students. I chose to take the harder classes. I was placed in a classroom that promised to challenge me in a way that I hadn’t been challenged before. I assumed it was going to be easy. I wrote my first paper for the class around the third week of school. My class patiently waited two weeks before a stack of papers was in her hands. She passed back each piece of work that was presented to her. She laid mine down on the desk, and a large N/P in black ink was on the back with a note stating,” See me after class”. This was the first paper I had ever failed in my high school career. I was in utter shock and disbelief. She explained what I had done wrong and that I must have misunderstood her as well as the directions for this particular essay. My teacher depicted the notion that I was extremely behind and that my old school hadn’t prepared me. She exclaimed,” While your peers will be working hard, you will have to work twice as hard to catch up and be at their level.” I left the classroom unsure of the decision I was going to make. I told her I wanted to be challenged, but was this class worth it? How could the language I had grown up loving be so difficult and different from what I had been taught at my old school? I woke up the next morning determined to catch up. I chose to take a class that would not only challenge me mentally, but that would make me love the English language all over again in a brand new way. I knew this was the class that would challenge me and make me better at writing. I watched videos and read an abundance of essays. I spent eight months writing and revising around eight different essays. After eight months, she put an essay on my desk. I flipped it over expecting to see another D or C on my essay, but instead, I saw a B circled on the back. I was beyond shocked. After all of the hard work that I had done in this class, I got a B on a paper. After all the research, perseverance, criticism, and patience I had with that class, I finally wrote a paper that was B-worthy. Mrs. Nidiffer greatly shaped who I am today. Throughout my entire writing process, I listened to her criticisms and chose to have patience with my writing and her grading process. In the end, it all paid off. I may not always be the best writer in English, but I will always work extremely hard to accomplish all of my goals.

The cool crisp air nips my face as I open up my window and stick my head outside. I look out the window to see the blue jays. I feel the warm sun rays beam on my face. I take a deep breath feeling the cool air fill my lungs before finally shutting the window. Doing what my ancestors did before me, I take out my thin mottled greenish-red-blue shell with a coarse spiral ribbing circle. I do this in reverence to those who came before me. I light the desert and white sage leaves mixed with dark cedar leaves. The silvered wispy smoke rises gracefully as if it's dancing upward to the heavens. I cup it before putting it over my head and to my heart. I breathe in the sweet, prickly, cool, herbaceous, peppery fumes filling my room, creating a sense of tranquility for my cat and me. This allows me to deepen my relationship with my indigenous heritage and Mother Earth. I do this to feel connected to the earth and feel at peace. The wind tends to carry a slight whistle to it on cold winter days. In this small lumber and fishing town that I call home, the wind’s humming can be heard regardless of where you may find yourself going. Since my home is on the West Coast, it's constantly foggy and windy. The cold brings in a sense of comfort and peace, reminding me of my childhood and the days spent running outdoors. Sitting at the table in a gray Oregon hoodie with a shiny yellow metal hook and fuzzy ivory yarn in hand, my mom sets a massive letter in front of me. An intense sense of anxiety filled my body when I flipped the letter over. “Montana State University Admission” was written in bold yellow and blue ink on the packaging. I find a mustard-yellow folder and my heart begins to pound. I opened the folder and a sticker fell out. I don't mind the sticker but pay attention to the white paper on the right side. I read the first word. Congratulations. All sense of anxiety flows off my body as I holler,” I got in!”. I never thought I would go to college since college here seems like a memorable dream that many young kids, especially young Indigenous kids, who come to my town rarely achieve. I never allowed myself to entertain the thought of truly pursuing a college education. Yet I found myself applying to a four-year university thousands of miles away to pursue a degree in STEM and take care of the earth. I’ve had to go through massive bumps and take huge strides in my walk of life to get where I am today. My Tollowa heritage will always be shown through the little things in life by being connected to the earth. This notion resides in my people's way of being connected to the earth and protecting the home we have been given to take care of. College means protecting the earth in any way that I can. I intend on attending college because I come from a small fishing and lumbering town off the coast of the Oregon-California border where college is a dream, not a necessity. As an Indigenous person coming from a small town, I was put at a higher risk of not going to college. This scholarship will make my dream of going to college to contribute to and conserve plants a reality. This would allow me to help conserve the vital resources that support my community.

The cool crisp air nips my face as I open up my window and stick my head outside. I look out the window to see the blue jays. I feel the warm sun rays beam on my face. I take a deep breath feeling the cool air fill my lungs before finally shutting the window. Doing what my ancestors did before me, I take out my thin mottled greenish-red-blue shell with a coarse spiral ribbing circle. I do this in reverence to those who came before me. I light the desert and white sage leaves mixed with dark cedar leaves. The silvered wispy smoke rises gracefully as if it's dancing upward to the heavens. I cup it before putting it over my head and to my heart. I breathe in the sweet, prickly, cool, herbaceous, peppery fumes filling my room, creating a sense of tranquility for my cat and me. This allows me to deepen my relationship with my indigenous heritage and Mother Earth. I do this to feel connected to the earth and feel at peace. The wind tends to carry a slight whistle to it on cold winter days. In this small lumber and fishing town that I call home, the wind’s humming can be heard regardless of where you may find yourself going. Since my home is on the West Coast, it's constantly foggy and windy. The cold brings in a sense of comfort and peace, reminding me of my childhood and the days spent running outdoors. Sitting at the table in a gray Oregon hoodie with a shiny yellow metal hook and fuzzy ivory yarn in hand, my mom sets a massive letter in front of me. An intense sense of anxiety filled my body when I flipped the letter over. “Montana State University Admission” was written in bold yellow and blue ink on the packaging. I find a mustard-yellow folder and my heart begins to pound. I opened the folder and a sticker fell out. I don't mind the sticker but pay attention to the white paper on the right side. I read the first word. Congratulations. All sense of anxiety flows off my body as I holler,” I got in!”. I never thought I would go to college since college here seems like a memorable dream that many young kids, especially young Indigenous kids, who come to my town rarely achieve. I never allowed myself to entertain the thought of truly pursuing a college education. Yet I found myself applying to a four-year university thousands of miles away to pursue a degree in STEM and take care of the earth. I’ve had to go through massive bumps and take huge strides in my walk of life to get where I am today. My Tollowa heritage will always be shown through the little things in life by being connected to the earth. This notion resides in my people's way of being connected to the earth and protecting the home we have been given to take care of. College means protecting the earth in any way that I can. I intend on going to college because I come from a small fishing and lumbering town off the coast of the Oregon-California border where college is a dream, not a necessity. As an Indigenous person coming from a small town, I was put at a higher risk of not going to college. This scholarship will make my dream of going to college to contribute to and conserve plants a reality. This would allow me to help conserve the vital resources that support my community.

By the ripe age of eleven, I fell in love with the English Language. The way a predicate adjective follows a linking verb encapsulates my every thought. My favorite thing to do is to take apart sentences and find the true subject in a very long sentence. I’ve always understood English. I was sent to a Christian school in my eighth-grade year and was challenged by a concise teacher. She pushed me to want to become an English teacher and pursue a college education. She ripped apart papers and made me start from scratch. Mrs. Lyhnn challenged me to become a better writer and to create works that made sense. Junior year I was taken from the small Christian school with a student population of around 40 students that I had grown to love, and placed in a school with around 540 students. I chose to take the harder classes. I was placed in a classroom that promised to challenge me in a way I hadn’t been challenged before. I assumed it was going to be easy. I wrote my first paper for the class around the third week of school. My class patiently waited two weeks before a stack of papers was in her hands. She passed back each piece of work that was presented to her. She laid mine down on the desk and a large N/P in black ink was on the back with a note stating,” See me after class.”. This was the first paper I had ever failed in my high school career. I was in utter shock and disbelief. I saw her after class with tears in my eyes. She explained what I had done wrong and that I must have misunderstood her as well as the directions for this particular essay. My teacher depicted the notion that I was extremely behind and that my old school hadn’t prepared me for this class. She exclaimed,” While your peers will be working hard, you will have to work twice as hard to catch up and be at their level.” I left the classroom unsure of the decision I was going to make. I told her I wanted to be challenged, but was this class worth it? How could the language I had grown up loving be so difficult and different from what I had been taught at my old school? I woke up the next morning determined to catch up. I chose to take a class that would challenge me mentally and make me love the English language all over again in a brand new way. I knew this was the class that would challenge me and make me better at writing. I watched videos and read an abundance of essays. I spent eight months perfecting my craft. She put another essay on my desk, I flipped it over expecting to see another C or D, but a large B was circled on the back. I was shocked. Throughout my entire writing process, I listened to her criticisms and chose to have patience with my writing and her grading process. In the end, it all paid off. Whether it is in the classroom, or in my personal or professional life, I know I have the perseverance to overcome anything. This teacher influenced me by showing me how perseverance and hard work can help you accomplish anything even if the journey is hard.

Most young people assume that those who need hearing aids are the elderly and those who listen to music too loud as teenagers finally having their hearing depleted, but no one could have guessed that my younger sister is partially deaf. Hearing aids have always been a heavy topic of discussion for me. This piece of technology has allowed her to hear birds sing, and hear her voice. Yet at times, she was bullied for this technology. The only thing that has made a significant increase in her mental state, and self-image has been her dog, Wookie. He has created a much happier life for my sister. I would create a system in which it's easier to get animals registered as EMS animals or create a help support system in which people who are struggling with mental health issues can go out with a group and support local shelters. Allowing those who aren't in the best state to actively take care of an animal, but be around animals will help their mental health by getting love from something other than people.

The cool crisp air nips my face as I open up my window and stick my head outside. I look out the window to see the blue jays. I feel the warm sun rays beam on my face. I take a deep breath feeling the cool air fill my lungs before finally shutting the window. Doing what my ancestors did before me, I take out my thin mottled greenish-red-blue shell with a coarse spiral ribbing circle. I do this in reverence to those who came before me. I light the desert and white sage leaves mixed with dark cedar leaves. The silvered wispy smoke rises gracefully as if it's dancing upward to the heavens. I cup it before putting it over my head and to my heart. I breathe in the sweet, prickly, cool, herbaceous, peppery fumes filling my room, creating a sense of tranquility for my cat and me. This allows me to deepen my relationship with my indigenous heritage and Mother Earth. The wind tends to carry a slight whistle to it on cold winter days. In this small lumber and fishing town that I call home, the wind’s humming can be heard regardless of where you may find yourself going. Since my home is on the West Coast, it's constantly foggy and windy. The cold brings in a sense of comfort and peace, reminding me of my childhood and the days spent running outdoors. Sitting at the table in a gray Oregon hoodie with a shiny yellow metal hook and fuzzy ivory yarn in hand, my mom sets a massive letter in front of me. An intense sense of anxiety filled my body when I flipped the letter over. “Montana State University Admission” was written in bold yellow and blue ink on the packaging. I find a mustard-yellow folder and my heart begins to pound. I opened the folder and a sticker fell out. I don't mind the sticker but pay attention to the white paper on the right side. I read the first word. Congratulations. All sense of anxiety flows off my body as I holler,” I got in!”. I never thought I would go to college since college here seems like a memorable dream that many young kids, especially young Indigenous kids, who come to my town rarely achieve. I never allowed myself to entertain the thought of truly pursuing a college education. Yet I found myself applying to a four-year university thousands of miles away to pursue a degree in STEM and take care of the earth. I’ve had to go through massive bumps and take huge strides in my walk of life to get where I am today. My Tollowa heritage will always be shown through the little things in life by being connected to the earth. This notion resides in my people's way of being connected to the earth and protecting the home we have been given to take care of. My mom was in the U.S. Navy and I want to make her proud by going to college. I intend on going to college because I come from a small fishing and lumbering town off the coast of the Oregon-California border where college is a dream, not a necessity. As an Indigenous person coming from a small town, I was put at a higher risk of not going to college. This scholarship will make my dream of going to college to contribute to and conserve plants a reality. It would allow me to help conserve the vital resources that support my community.

Most young people assume that those who need hearing aids are the elderly and those who listen to music too loud as teenagers finally having their hearing depleted, but no one could have guessed that my younger sister is partially deaf. For as long as I can remember, my sister has loved her hearing aids, because they have allowed her to hear her dog bark, and listen to her favorite thing; music. There was a time when she hated wearing them. I remember my mom telling her and me how much she hated those things that she now has a new profound love for. When she was little, she always tried to get out of wearing her aids, because she didn't understand why it was important for her to wear them. She even went as far as to put them in dog food, so the dogs would eat this little expensive piece of technology. Hearing aids have always been a heavy topic of discussion for me. This piece of technology has allowed her to hear birds sing, and hear her own voice. Hearing aids will forever be a part of my life, because of her. Eventually, when she does go deaf, she will be able to reminisce about what this innovative technology has been able to bring into her life. She will always be able to think about how the ocean and her favorite song sounded to her. It has created a new world for her that my parents didn't think she would be able to have. It allowed her to have experiences that not everyone gets the chance to have. This technology illustrates just how good the world can be and how technology has continued to make the world a better place.

The cool crisp air nips my face as I open up my window and stick my head outside. I look out the window to see the blue jays. I feel the warm sun rays beam on my face. I take a deep breath feeling the cool air fill my lungs before finally shutting the window. Doing what my ancestors did before me, I take out my thin mottled greenish-red-blue shell with a coarse spiral ribbing circle. I do this in reverence to those who came before me. I light the desert and white sage leaves mixed with dark cedar leaves. The silvered wispy smoke rises gracefully as if it's dancing upward to the heavens. I cup it before putting it over my head and to my heart. I breathe in the sweet, prickly, cool, herbaceous, peppery fumes filling my room, creating a sense of tranquility for my cat and me. This allows me to deepen my relationship with my indigenous heritage and Mother Earth. I do this to feel connected to the earth and feel at peace. The wind tends to carry a slight whistle to it on cold winter days. In this small lumber and fishing town that I call home, the wind’s humming can be heard regardless of where you may find yourself going. Since my home is on the West Coast, it's constantly foggy and windy. The cold brings in a sense of comfort and peace, reminding me of my childhood and the days spent running outdoors. Sitting at the table in a gray Oregon hoodie with a shiny yellow metal hook and fuzzy ivory yarn in hand, my mom sets a massive letter in front of me. An intense sense of anxiety filled my body when I flipped the letter over. “Montana State University Admission” was written in bold yellow and blue ink on the packaging. I find a mustard-yellow folder and my heart begins to pound. I opened the folder and a sticker fell out. I don't mind the sticker but pay attention to the white paper on the right side. I read the first word. Congratulations. All sense of anxiety flows off my body as I holler,” I got in!”. I never thought I would go to college since college here seems like a memorable dream that many young kids, especially young Indigenous kids, who come to my town rarely achieve. I never allowed myself to entertain the thought of truly pursuing a college education. Yet I found myself applying to a four-year university thousands of miles away to pursue a degree in STEM and take care of the earth. I’ve had to go through massive bumps and take huge strides to get where I am today. I hope that my Tollowa heritage will be shown through the little things in life by being connected to the earth. This notion resides in my people's way of being connected to the earth and protecting the home we have been given to take care of. As an Indigenous woman in STEM, I hope to protect the earth in any way I can. I intend on going to college because I come from a small fishing and lumbering town off the coast of the Oregon-California border where college is a dream, not a necessity. Coming from a small town, I was put at a higher risk of not going to college. This scholarship will make my dream of going to college to contribute to and conserve plants a reality. This would allow me to help conserve the vital resources that support my community

Junior year I was taken from the small Christian school with a student population of around 40 students that I had grown to love, and placed in a school with around 540 students. I was placed in a classroom with about 30 people and a very annoying teacher. He pushed his students to love math, yet no one who went into that classroom came out loving math. I was placed next to the principal's kid. He introduced himself and I found that he was the most genuine person I've ever met. He helped me when I didn't understand how to find the vertex of a parabola. He continued to help me until I started doing math problems on a large chalkboard. We used many different colors, but I found that I loved writing math problems in blue. We started sitting in the back more often. I learned how to do synthetic division, and finally, math clicked for me. I started to teach my friend how to do the math problems that I was most passionate about. I quickly learned that I loved math. More so I loved the community that I gained from sitting in that large classroom doing math on a large chalkboard.

By the ripe age of eleven, I fell in love with the English Language. The way a predicate adjective follows a linking verb encapsulates my every thought. My favorite thing to do is to take apart sentences and find the true subject in a very long sentence. I’ve always understood English. I was sent to a Christian school in my eighth-grade year. A teacher pushed me to want to pursue a college education. Mrs. Lyhnn challenged me to become a better writer and to create works that made sense. Junior year I was taken from the small Christian school with a student population of around 40 students that I had grown to love, and placed in a school with around 540 students. I chose to take the harder classes. I was placed in a classroom that promised to challenge me in a way I hadn’t been challenged before. I assumed it was going to be easy. I wrote my first paper for the class around the third week of school. My class patiently waited two weeks before a stack of papers was in her hands. She passed back each piece of work that was presented to her. She laid mine down on the desk and a large N/P in black ink was on the back with a note stating,” See me after class.”. This was the first paper I had ever failed in my high school career. I was in utter shock and disbelief. I saw her after class with tears in my eyes. She explained what I had done wrong and that I must have misunderstood her as well as the directions for this particular essay. My teacher depicted the notion that I was extremely behind and that my old school hadn’t prepared me for this class. She exclaimed,” While your peers will be working hard, you will have to work twice as hard to catch up and be at their level.” I left the classroom unsure of the decision I was going to make. I told her I wanted to be challenged, but was this class worth it? How could the language I had grown up loving be so difficult and different from what I had been taught at my old school? I woke up the next morning determined to catch up. I chose to take a class that would challenge me mentally and make me love the English language all over again in a brand new way. I knew this was the class that would challenge me and make me better at writing. I watched videos and read an abundance of essays. I spent eight months perfecting my craft . After eight months, she put an essay on my desk. I flipped it over expecting to see another D or C on my essay, but instead, I saw a B circled on the back. I was shocked. Finally, after all of the hard work I had done in this class, I got a B on a paper. After all the research, perseverance, criticism, and patience I had with this class I finally wrote a paper that was B-worthy. Throughout my entire writing process, I listened to her criticisms and chose to have patience with my writing and her grading process. In the end, it all paid off. I may not always be the best writer in English, but I will always work extremely hard to accomplish anything and all of my goals. Through hard work and perserverence, you can accomplish anything you put your mind to.

The cool crisp air nips my face as I open up my window and stick my head outside. I look out the window to see the blue jays. I feel the warm sun rays beam on my face. I take a deep breath feeling the cool air fill my lungs before finally shutting the window. Doing what my ancestors did before me, I take out my thin mottled greenish-red-blue shell with a coarse spiral ribbing circle. I do this in reverence to those who came before me. I light the desert and white sage leaves mixed with dark cedar leaves. The silvered wispy smoke rises gracefully as if it's dancing upward to the heavens. I cup it before putting it over my head and to my heart. I breathe in the sweet, prickly, cool, herbaceous, peppery fumes filling my room, creating a sense of tranquility for my cat and me. This allows me to deepen my relationship with my indigenous heritage and Mother Earth. I do this to feel connected to the earth and feel at peace. The wind tends to carry a slight whistle to it on cold winter days. In this small lumber and fishing town that I call home, the wind’s humming can be heard regardless of where you may find yourself going. Since my home is on the West Coast, it's constantly foggy and windy. The cold brings in a sense of comfort and peace, reminding me of my childhood and the days spent running outdoors. Sitting at the table in a gray Oregon hoodie with a shiny yellow metal hook and fuzzy ivory yarn in hand, my mom sets a massive letter in front of me. An intense sense of anxiety filled my body when I flipped the letter over. “Montana State University Admission” was written in bold yellow and blue ink on the packaging. I find a mustard-yellow folder and my heart begins to pound. I opened the folder and a sticker fell out. I don't mind the sticker but pay attention to the white paper on the right side. I read the first word. Congratulations. All sense of anxiety flows off my body as I holler,” I got in!”. I never thought I would go to college since college here seems like a memorable dream that many young kids, especially young Indigenous kids, who come to my town rarely achieve. I never allowed myself to entertain the thought of truly pursuing a college education. Yet I found myself applying to a four-year university thousands of miles away to pursue a degree in STEM and take care of the earth. I’ve had to go through massive bumps and take huge strides in my walk of life to get where I am today. My Tollowa heritage will always be shown through the little things in life by being connected to the earth. This notion resides in my people's way of being connected to the earth and protecting the home we have been given to take care of. College means protecting the earth in any way that I can. I intend on going to college because I come from a small fishing and lumbering town off the coast of the Oregon-California border where college is a dream, not a necessity. As an Indigenous person coming from a small town, I was put at a higher risk of not going to college. This scholarship will make my dream of going to college to contribute to and conserve plants a reality. This would allow me to help conserve the vital resources that support my community.

By the ripe age of eleven, I fell in love with the English Language. The way a predicate adjective follows a linking verb encapsulates my every thought. My favorite thing to do is to take apart sentences and find the true subject in a very long sentence. I’ve always understood English. I was sent to a Christian school in my eighth-grade year and was challenged by a concise teacher. She pushed me to want to become an English teacher and pursue a college education. Mrs. Lyhnn challenged me to become a better writer and to create works that made sense. Junior year I was taken from the small Christian school with a student population of around 40 students that I had grown to love, and placed in a school with around 540 students. I chose to take the harder classes. I was placed in a classroom that promised to challenge me in a way I hadn’t been challenged before. I assumed it was going to be easy. I wrote my first paper for the class around the third week of school. My class patiently waited two weeks before a stack of papers was in her hands. She passed back each piece of work that was presented to her. She laid mine down on the desk and a large N/P in black ink was on the back with a note stating,” See me after class.”. This was the first paper I had ever failed in my high school career. I was in utter shock and disbelief. I saw her after class with tears in my eyes. She explained what I had done wrong and that I must have misunderstood her and the directions for this particular essay. My teacher depicted the notion that I was extremely behind and that my old school hadn’t prepared me for this class. She exclaimed,” While your peers will be working hard, you will have to work twice as hard to catch up and be at their level.” I left the classroom unsure of the decision I was going to make. I told her I wanted to be challenged, but was this class worth it? I woke up the next morning determined to catch up. I chose to take a class that would not only challenge me mentally, but that would make me love the English language all over again in a brand new way. I knew this was the class that would challenge me and make me better at writing. I watched videos and read an abundance of essays. I spent eight months writing and revising around eight different essays. I spent eight months perfecting my craft, before finally, I filliped over a paper with a large B circled on it. After all the research, perseverance, criticism, and patience I had with this class I finally wrote a paper that was B-worthy. Throughout my entire writing process, I listened to her criticisms and chose to have patience with my writing and her grading process. In the end, it all paid off. I may not always be the best writer in English, but I will always work extremely hard to accomplish anything and all of my goals. I love the English language because regardless of where I am, I will be challenged whether writing essays, or a written debate with a peer. This is why I have continued to fall in love with writing over and over and over again. Throughout my college career, I will continue to write and be challenged in each language class that I am in.

The cool crisp air nips my face as I open my window and stick my head outside. I look out the window to see the blue jays. I feel the warm sun rays beam on my face. I take a deep breath feeling the cool air fill my lungs. I remove my thin mottled greenish-red-blue shell with a coarse spiral ribbing circle. I do this in reverence to those who came before me. I light the desert and white sage leaves mixed with dark cedar leaves. The silvered wispy smoke rises gracefully as if it's dancing. I cup it, putting it over my head and onto my heart, before putting it over my head and to my heart. I breathe in the sweet, prickly, cool, herbaceous, peppery fumes filling my room, creating a sense of tranquility. This allows me to deepen my relationship with my heritage and Mother Earth. By the time I was four, I was on the move across the country, from the heavily populated state of Pennsylvania to a small town on the California-Oregon border. From that point on, I’ve always been on the move: from traveling to see my biological father twice a year, to driving throughout California to visit family. I am constantly moving, whether visiting the ocean or volunteering once a week at the humane society walking dogs. My life came to a complete halt when my mom divorced my stepdad. It was heartbreaking, watching my siblings go through the pain they were forced to endure and not have the ability to stop it. I learned that while I may be unable to stop the pain, I could create a support system for them that will always be accessible for my siblings in times of hardship. The wind tends to carry a slight whistle to it on cold winter days. In this small lumber and fishing town that I call home, the wind’s humming can be heard regardless of where you may find yourself going. Since my home is on the West Coast, it's constantly foggy and windy. The cold brings in a sense of comfort and peace, reminding me of my childhood and the days spent running outdoors. I never thought I would go to college since college here seems like a memorable dream that many young kids who come to my town rarely achieve. I never allowed myself to entertain the thought of truly pursuing a college education. Yet I found myself applying to a four-year university thousands of miles away to achieve a degree in plant pathology. I didn't think I would get in, yet l achieved the right to say that I would be going to Montana State Univerity. I’ve had to go through massive bumps and take huge strides in my walk of life to get where I am today. I may not always live in Oregon, but I will always have my family to fall back on. Perseverance and creating something beneficial out of harsh environments will continue to shape who I am and who I will become. My Tollowa heritage will always be shown through the little things in life by being connected to the earth. This notion resides in my people's way of being connected to the earth and protecting the home we have been given to take care of which has created a deep love for the environment, and my new profound dedication to creating a better earth by pursuing a degree in plant science and then eventually plant pathology.