My mom was diagnosed with leukemia in 2015. In 2017, she got a bone marrow transplant, and things looked up—until they didn’t. Her body was attacking itself. I was nine when she first got sick, and although I didn’t fully understand, I knew something was wrong. My mom tried to keep things normal for me. We continued our tradition of hanging out, building with popsicle sticks and Legos. Growing up, I was always just a room away from my mother’s struggles. The physical pain, the muffled arguments, and the whispered prayers were constant companions. It was a world where cancer wasn’t just an illness; it loomed over our lives, dictating every move. As I processed her absence, I found solace in creating—my escape from a reality I wasn’t ready to face. Fixing things around the house, from iPhone screens to lawnmowers, gave me small victories and control over my chaotic world. By fifth grade, I found a spark in something new: STEM. I joined SCHEME, where I competed in building mousetrap cars. Winning first place wasn’t just a victory; it was a revelation. For the first time, I realized I could shape my chaotic world into something tangible and meaningful. This small success was a beacon in the darkness. When my mother passed, the world was in lockdown due to COVID-19. I retreated to the familiar, safe space of my room with my Legos. I began building and creating more. I bought my first 3D printer, a decision that would shape the next chapter of my life. The printer became my companion, and each printed piece was a testament to my ability to persevere and find purpose through building. High school brought new challenges. My mother’s absence was a constant, a silent echo I carried with me. I took solace in my passion for aerospace, sparked by a childhood airplane kit. Building rockets became a way to honor the legacy of resilience my mother left behind. I joined aerospace clubs, participated in rocket launches, and eventually led STEM clubs at my school. The popsicle sticks and Legos my mom once bought me grew into the foundation of an engineering mindset, even in her absence. My mother’s illness and her strength had unknowingly planted the seeds of my passion for aerospace. Creating became my way of channeling grief into something constructive. I founded the first Robotics and Rocketry teams at my school, using my 3D printer as a focal point. These teams were more than clubs; they were manifestations of my determination to take my loss and turn it into something that could inspire others. I realized that the legacy she left me wasn’t just memories, but a drive to innovate and build. Through these projects, I found purpose. My journey has been one of building, not just in a physical sense, but emotionally and psychologically as well. I look to the future with a commitment to honor the resilience she taught me. I aim to contribute to aerospace advancements, driven by the spirit of exploration my mother fostered in me. The perseverance I’ve developed isn’t just a reaction to loss; it’s a testament to the strength I’ve discovered within myself. I’ve built a future from the fragments of my past, and I’m ready to take the next step. Each new challenge is an opportunity to create, learn, and grow. I carry her spirit with me in every achievement and launch, knowing that I can overcome whatever lies ahead

From the moment I assembled my first model airplane, I knew I was destined to pursue a career that would allow me to transform imagination into innovation. That first airplane kit, a birthday gift, sparked an enduring passion for aerospace engineering. As I carefully pieced together the plane, I realized I was not just building a toy; I was building a dream. My childhood fascination with flight evolved into a commitment to understand the principles that govern the skies and beyond. Since then, I’ve built rockets, mentored robotics teams, and embraced every opportunity to push the limits of my knowledge and creativity. My love for aerospace has driven me to dive deep into STEM. I have not only focused on my technical skills but also on community-oriented projects that merge science with social impact. Founding ReSTEM, a nonprofit dedicated to recycling STEM-related materials to support science education, has allowed me to see firsthand the power of inspiring younger students to embrace technology. Our mission is simple but impactful: to turn waste into resources that fuel curiosity and learning. Seeing the smiles on students’ faces when they realize that they can transform recycled plastics into 3D-printed components has been immensely rewarding. I want to continue this work by using my engineering skills to create sustainable solutions within the aerospace industry, helping bridge the gap between environmental responsibility and technological advancement. The aerospace field is rapidly evolving, with new challenges and opportunities emerging every day. My personal goal is to contribute to this evolution by developing technologies that make space exploration more accessible and sustainable. I am particularly drawn to propulsion systems and sustainable energy sources for spacecraft, and I have been actively pursuing internships and educational programs, including an internship with NASA, to deepen my understanding and skills. My involvement with competitive rocketry and robotics teams, such as the Panthers Rocketry Team, has provided me with hands-on experience that I believe will be invaluable in tackling real-world engineering problems. In the long term, I aspire to work at the forefront of aerospace innovation, either with organizations like NASA or within the private sector, developing technologies that can lead to a new era of space exploration. I envision a future where I am part of a team that designs sustainable spacecraft or propulsion systems that redefine what’s possible in space travel. Receiving this scholarship would not only help alleviate the financial burden of my education but also empower me to continue pursuing my dreams and making a difference. With the support of this scholarship, I will be one step closer to achieving my goals and contributing to a field that has fascinated me since childhood. I am excited to continue pushing boundaries, both in the classroom and beyond, as I work toward a future where science and technology are not just career paths but vehicles for change and discovery.

I’m a high school senior with a deep passion for STEM, particularly in the fields of aerospace and engineering. Over the years, I have immersed myself in various STEM-related projects, such as leading the Panthers Rocketry Team and founding ReSTEM, a nonprofit dedicated to recycling STEM materials to benefit underfunded schools. These experiences have shaped my understanding of the importance of innovation, leadership, and community involvement, and have driven me to pursue a career in engineering. Growing up, I’ve always been fascinated by how things work. Whether it was building model airplanes or experimenting with electronics, I was constantly looking for ways to explore the world through science and technology. My love for STEM solidified when I started participating in competitive rocketry and robotics, where I realized how much I enjoy problem-solving and working with teams to bring creative ideas to life. These experiences not only sharpened my technical skills but also taught me the value of persistence and teamwork. In addition to my hands-on projects, I’ve been committed to sharing my passion for STEM with others. Through ReSTEM, I’ve worked to provide access to STEM resources for schools that may not have the funding to offer such programs. By recycling materials from local competitions and organizations, we’ve been able to supply schools with 3D printers, robotics kits, and other tools that can inspire students to pursue their own STEM interests. This initiative is a reflection of my belief that education and opportunities in science should be accessible to everyone, regardless of background or resources. Looking ahead, I plan to pursue a degree in aerospace engineering, a field that perfectly aligns with my interests in problem-solving, innovation, and exploration. I am particularly drawn to aerospace because of its potential to push the boundaries of technology and contribute to advancements that can benefit society as a whole. Whether it’s working on sustainable energy solutions, improving transportation systems, or exploring space, I see aerospace engineering as a field that offers endless opportunities to make a positive impact. Receiving this scholarship would provide the financial support I need to fully dedicate myself to my studies and continue pursuing my passion for STEM. College tuition and associated expenses can be a significant burden, especially for students like myself who come from a single-parent household. This scholarship would allow me to focus on my academic goals and extracurricular projects without the added stress of financial constraints. It would also enable me to invest in further research, attend relevant conferences, and participate in hands-on experiences that will enhance my learning and prepare me for a successful career in aerospace engineering. In the long term, I plan to use my education and skills to contribute to technological advancements that solve real-world problems. I want to continue leading initiatives that promote sustainability, improve access to STEM education, and inspire the next generation of engineers and innovators. This scholarship would not only help me achieve my personal academic goals but also enable me to make a lasting impact on the community and the world at large. In conclusion, this scholarship would be a crucial step in helping me further my studies and pursue my career in aerospace engineering. It would allow me to focus on my academic and extracurricular passions, invest in hands-on experiences, and continue contributing to the STEM community through initiatives like ReSTEM. I am committed to using the opportunities afforded to me to make a positive and lasting impact on both the local and global community.

The sound of Uptown Girl by Billy Joel often stirs something deep within me. It was my mother's favorite song. Memories of her are fragmented, intertwined with the scent of hospital antiseptic and the silent dread that permeated our home. I was 13 when she passed, and though the world around me sought solace in blue skies and blooming flowers, I found myself tethered to a reality shaped by loss and the silent persistence of cancer. Growing up, I was always just a room away from my mother’s struggles. The physical pain, the muffled arguments between my parents, and the whispered prayers were constant companions. My sisters could shut their doors, but I couldn’t shut out the world I was immersed in. It was a world where cancer wasn’t just an illness; it was an invisible presence that loomed over our lives, dictating our every move, every decision. In the midst of this, I sought refuge in the simplest of things. My earliest memory is of my mother taking me to Dollar Tree to buy popsicle sticks and playdough. We couldn’t afford summer camps, but with those sticks, I built worlds of my own. As my mother’s health declined, those worlds became more intricate. They were my escape from a reality I wasn’t ready to face—a reality where my mother’s absence was an ever-present shadow. By fifth grade, I found solace in something new: STEM. I joined SCHEME, a club where I competed in building mousetrap cars. Winning first place wasn’t just a victory; it was a revelation. It was the first time I realized that I could create something out of nothing, that I could take the chaos of my world and mold it into something tangible, something real. When my mother passed, I was plunged into a sea of confusion and grief. The world was in lockdown due to COVID-19, and I retreated into the familiar, safe space of my room. It was here that I purchased my first 3D printer, a decision that would shape the next chapter of my life. Each printed piece was a small victory, a testament to my ability to create, to build, to persevere. High school brought new challenges and new opportunities. My mother's absence was a constant, a silent echo that I carried with me. I became adept at hiding the truth, at pretending everything was fine. But inside, I was struggling. It wasn’t until I met Parker, a friend going through his own struggles, that I began to open up. For the first time, I shared the story of my mother’s death, and in doing so, I began to heal. Junior year marked a turning point. I channeled my grief and my passion for creation into something bigger. I founded my school’s first Robotics and Rocketry teams, using my 3D printer as a focal point. These teams were more than just clubs; they were a manifestation of my determination to take the loss I had experienced and turn it into something constructive, something that could inspire others. As I look to the future, I carry with me the lessons of my past. The perseverance I’ve developed isn’t just a reaction to loss; it’s a testament to the strength I’ve found within myself. My journey has been one of building, not just in the physical sense, but in the emotional and psychological sense as well. I’ve built a future out of the fragments of my past, and I’m ready to take the next step, knowing that my mother’s spirit is with me in every creation, every achievement, and every launch.

Throughout my life, I’ve faced various challenges that have shaped who I am today. One of the most significant hurdles I’ve had to overcome is dealing with feelings of depression. Although I didn’t turn to drugs or unhealthy coping mechanisms, the weight of depression often made it difficult to find motivation and stay focused on my goals. It’s been a journey of understanding my mental health and learning how to manage it in ways that help me move forward, rather than let it hold me back. During tough times, I found it easy to withdraw from the activities that once brought me joy. My passion for STEM and involvement in extracurricular projects, like rocketry and robotics, began to feel overwhelming rather than exciting. However, I knew that giving up wasn’t an option. I sought support from friends, family, and mentors who reminded me of my potential and encouraged me to keep pushing through. It was in these moments that I realized the importance of leaning on others and being open about my struggles. Instead of turning to substances or other negative coping mechanisms, I channeled my energy into my passions. STEM projects became my outlet for creative expression and problem-solving, which helped me regain a sense of purpose. I threw myself into leading my school’s Panthers Rocketry Team and co-founding my nonprofit ReSTEM, which recycles STEM materials for underfunded schools. These initiatives not only kept me engaged but also provided a sense of fulfillment as I saw how they were making a positive impact on others. One of the biggest hurdles I had to overcome was the internal pressure I placed on myself to succeed. I often felt like I wasn’t doing enough, even though I was juggling numerous responsibilities. It took time for me to realize that progress is not always linear and that setbacks are part of the process. By practicing self-compassion and learning to prioritize my mental well-being, I became more resilient. These experiences have taught me that while depression can be a challenging battle, it’s possible to work through it and come out stronger. Now, as I stand at the threshold of pursuing my passions through higher education, I feel more prepared than ever. I’ve learned that persistence and determination can lead to great things, even in the face of adversity. My experiences with depression have given me a unique perspective on the importance of mental health, and they’ve made me more empathetic toward others who may be struggling. I’m ready to continue pursuing my education and building on the work I’ve started with my STEM projects. Whether through college or trade school, I’m eager to keep growing, learning, and making a positive impact on my community. The hurdles I’ve overcome have made me more determined to use my passions to create meaningful change, both for myself and for others

As someone deeply invested in the STEM field, I’ve encountered numerous instances where mathematics plays a central role in problem-solving and innovation. From my work in rocketry with the Panthers Rocketry Team to my involvement with robotics and leadership in various STEM initiatives, the importance of a solid mathematical foundation has always been evident. Recently, as I’ve been advancing through my studies in calculus, I’ve gained a greater appreciation for how calculus serves as a critical tool in understanding and advancing within the STEM field. Calculus is the language through which we explore and describe the most fundamental concepts in science, engineering, and technology. Its importance lies in its ability to help us understand changes—whether it’s the trajectory of a rocket, the rate at which energy is transferred in a system, or the flow of electricity through a circuit. This ability to predict and calculate dynamic changes is crucial in aerospace, physics, and all areas of STEM that I am passionate about. One of the most profound realizations I’ve had while learning calculus is how it directly applies to my hands-on projects. For example, in the Panthers Rocketry Team, we frequently deal with questions regarding thrust, velocity, and acceleration, all of which are modeled by calculus-based equations. When designing our rockets, we need to calculate how much force is required to reach certain altitudes, taking into account variables like air resistance and fuel consumption. Without calculus, it would be nearly impossible to accurately predict and plan for the success of these launches. My recent efforts in learning calculus have enhanced my ability to solve complex problems, which is a core component of success in STEM. Whether I’m working on projects for ReSTEM or preparing for engineering challenges, calculus provides the tools necessary for precision and accuracy. For example, when developing sustainable solutions for my nonprofit ReSTEM, understanding rates of change helps in creating more efficient recycling processes for STEM materials. In robotics, calculus helps optimize algorithms for movement, ensuring smoother and more effective robotic operations. It’s this universality of calculus across disciplines that makes it an indispensable part of my STEM journey. In many ways, calculus is not only a tool for solving technical problems but also a way to think critically and analytically about the world. The concept of limits, for example, teaches us to consider how systems behave as they approach extreme conditions, a principle that applies far beyond the classroom. In my rocketry work, thinking about how variables behave under different conditions is crucial for ensuring safety and performance during launches. In robotics, understanding rates of change helps optimize designs for real-world applications, where variables are constantly in flux. Looking ahead, I see calculus as a fundamental building block for the future challenges I will face in STEM. Whether it’s pursuing a career in aerospace engineering or developing innovative solutions to real-world problems, calculus will continue to play a pivotal role in shaping my understanding and approach to these challenges. It’s not just about solving equations but about applying the principles behind them to create better technologies and systems. Calculus has become a bridge between theoretical knowledge and practical application, allowing me to think more critically about the problems I want to solve. In conclusion, calculus is essential in the STEM field because it provides the mathematical foundation for understanding and predicting dynamic systems. As I continue to pursue my goals in STEM, calculus will remain an indispensable tool, helping me translate abstract concepts into real-world solutions and driving my passion for problem-solving and innovation.

The sound of Uptown Girl by Billy Joel often stirs something deep within me. It was my mother's favorite song. Memories of her are fragmented, intertwined with the scent of hospital antiseptic and the silent dread that permeated our home. I was 13 when she passed, and though the world around me sought solace in blue skies and blooming flowers, I found myself tethered to a reality shaped by loss and the silent persistence of cancer. Growing up, I was always just a room away from my mother’s struggles. The physical pain, the muffled arguments between my parents, and the whispered prayers were constant companions. My sisters could shut their doors, but I couldn’t shut out the world I was immersed in. It was a world where cancer wasn’t just an illness; it was an invisible presence that loomed over our lives, dictating our every move, every decision. In the midst of this, I sought refuge in the simplest of things. My earliest memory is of my mother taking me to Dollar Tree to buy popsicle sticks and playdough. We couldn’t afford summer camps, but with those sticks, I built worlds of my own. As my mother’s health declined, those worlds became more intricate. They were my escape from a reality I wasn’t ready to face—a reality where my mother’s absence was an ever-present shadow. By fifth grade, I found solace in something new: STEM. I joined SCHEME, a club where I competed in building mousetrap cars. Winning first place wasn’t just a victory; it was a revelation. It was the first time I realized that I could create something out of nothing, that I could take the chaos of my world and mold it into something tangible, something real. When my mother passed, I was plunged into a sea of confusion and grief. The world was in lockdown due to COVID-19, and I retreated into the familiar, safe space of my room. It was here that I purchased my first 3D printer, a decision that would shape the next chapter of my life. Each printed piece was a small victory, a testament to my ability to create, to build, to persevere. High school brought new challenges and new opportunities. My mother's absence was a constant, a silent echo that I carried with me. I became adept at hiding the truth, at pretending everything was fine. But inside, I was struggling. It wasn’t until I met Parker, a friend going through his own struggles, that I began to open up. For the first time, I shared the story of my mother’s death, and in doing so, I began to heal. Junior year marked a turning point. I channeled my grief and my passion for creation into something bigger. I founded my school’s first Robotics and Rocketry teams, using my 3D printer as a focal point. These teams were more than just clubs; they were a manifestation of my determination to take the loss I had experienced and turn it into something constructive, something that could inspire others. As I look to the future, I carry with me the lessons of my past. The perseverance I’ve developed isn’t just a reaction to loss; it’s a testament to the strength I’ve found within myself. My journey has been one of building, not just in the physical sense, but in the emotional and psychological sense as well. I’ve built a future out of the fragments of my past, and I’m ready to take the next step, knowing that my mother’s spirit is with me in every creation, every achievement, and every launch.

My journey has always been defined by a passion for innovation and a desire to make a positive impact on my community. Growing up, I was drawn to problem-solving and building, which naturally led me to explore STEM. But as much as I’ve enjoyed pursuing my own growth, my real goal has been to share that passion with others. My efforts in founding and leading various STEM initiatives have allowed me to make meaningful contributions to my school and community, and I plan to continue expanding these efforts in the future. One of my most fulfilling projects has been founding the Panthers Rocketry Team and The Distressed Panthers Robotics Club. These clubs not only allow me to pursue my interests in aerospace and engineering but also create opportunities for peers to explore hands-on learning experiences. By providing a platform for students to experiment, collaborate, and compete, I’ve seen how these activities can inspire others. Many of my teammates had never participated in STEM competitions before, and watching them grow has been one of my proudest accomplishments. As my involvement in STEM grew, I began thinking about how I could make a broader impact. This led me to co-found ReSTEM, a nonprofit focused on recycling STEM-related materials and redistributing them to underfunded schools. With ReSTEM, we address sustainability and access to resources, providing schools with the tools to introduce students to STEM. I’m proud that ReSTEM is already helping schools in the Orlando area, and I plan to expand this outreach to ensure more students have the resources to explore their interests. I’m also establishing the first STEAM workshop at my school, creating a space where students can explore interdisciplinary projects. My goal is to inspire students to think critically and creatively, developing solutions to real-world problems while learning teamwork. Through these initiatives, I’ve seen how empowering it is to help others discover their potential. While my interests lie in aerospace and engineering, my larger focus is on building a community where curiosity is encouraged, and every student has the opportunity to thrive. These projects are about more than technical skills—they create a culture of collaboration and innovation. At Dr. Phillips High School, I plan to make a positive impact by ensuring the STEAM workshop and other programs are accessible to students from all backgrounds. By promoting STEM education within the school, I hope to encourage more students to pursue their passions and gain skills that will benefit the Dr. Phillips community. Through workshops, mentorship, and collaboration with local organizations, I aim to foster an inclusive environment where innovation and learning are at the forefront. Looking forward, my goal is to continue blending my passion for STEM with my desire to make a difference. Through ReSTEM and other future initiatives, I hope to reach more students, build a stronger community, and inspire future generations of problem-solvers. My experiences have taught me that one person’s passion can spark a movement, and I’m committed to using my knowledge to make a lasting, positive impact on my community.

Adolescence is a time of growth, filled with both excitement and uncertainty. Olivia Rodrigo captures this confusing period in her song “Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl” with the lyric, “I broke a glass and I cut my hand, I’m the most awkward person in the room.” This line resonates with many teenagers, including myself, as it reflects the clumsy, awkward feelings that come with growing up. We often find ourselves struggling between the desire to fit in and the inevitability of making mistakes, which sometimes leaves us feeling out of place or uncomfortable. The lyric’s imagery—breaking a glass and cutting a hand—symbolizes the emotional pain that comes with moments of perceived failure or embarrassment. During adolescence, even small incidents can feel monumental. The fear of being judged, the pressure to perform well, or the anxiety about fitting in can all amplify those feelings. Rodrigo’s lyric perfectly captures this tension, highlighting the awkwardness of adolescence and the inner battle between wanting to be accepted and fearing that every misstep will make us stand out for the wrong reasons. Reflecting on my own teenage experience, I’ve had many moments where I felt like “the most awkward person in the room.” As someone who has taken on leadership roles in STEM clubs, competitive rocketry, and robotics, I’ve often been in situations where I felt the pressure to appear confident and capable, even when self-doubt was lingering beneath the surface. There are times when I’ve made mistakes during presentations or team meetings, and in those moments, I felt exposed, as though my errors were magnified for everyone to see. I recall leading a meeting for my rocketry team where I was presenting a new design idea. Halfway through, I stumbled over my words and lost track of my points, and the familiar feeling of awkwardness crept in. Much like breaking a glass in front of a room full of people, the situation felt embarrassing, and I wished I could rewind and fix it. But these moments are part of the teenage experience—inevitable and formative. Olivia Rodrigo’s lyric speaks to the vulnerability that comes with adolescence. It’s easy to feel like everyone is watching and judging our every move, especially when things don’t go as planned. However, I’ve come to realize that these awkward and uncomfortable moments are essential for growth. They’ve taught me resilience and have shown me how to recover from setbacks and move forward, even when I feel uncertain. In my leadership roles, whether it’s in a robotics competition or a rocketry event, I’ve learned to embrace the awkward moments and see them as opportunities for learning. The fear of making mistakes will always be present, but the ability to push through and learn from them is what shapes us. Over time, I’ve grown more confident in my abilities, even if I still have moments where I feel unsure or awkward. Rodrigo’s lyric, “I’m the most awkward person in the room,” captures a universal aspect of adolescence—the feeling that everyone is watching, judging, and that every mistake is catastrophic. But it’s also a reminder that these moments are what help us grow. Through my experiences in STEM, I’ve learned that making mistakes or feeling out of place doesn’t define me; instead, it’s how I respond to those moments that truly matters. In the end, the awkwardness of adolescence is something we all experience, and it’s these very moments that shape who we become. Rodrigo’s lyric serves as a powerful reminder that it’s okay to stumble, feel unsure, and make mistakes because those are the moments that lead us to growth and self-confidence.