When I was five years old in nursery school in the Philippines, I remember being scared to go to class. My teacher would hit us with a long stick every time we made mistakes, even small ones, like writing a letter wrong or talking too softly. I didn’t understand why she did that. I was just a kid, but those moments stuck with me. They made me scared to speak up and taught me to stay quiet instead of asking for help. In 3rd grade, I was bullied. I was a quiet and shy kid, and it was hard for me to fit in. Some classmates teased me about how I talked or looked, and every day, I went home pretending I was fine. I thought keeping everything to myself was the right thing to do because I didn’t want to cause problems or seem weak. But after a while, I couldn’t take it anymore. I finally told my parents what was happening. They comforted me and told me I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. That moment taught me that opening up doesn’t make you weak; it helps you heal. As I got older, I started to understand how those experiences affected my mental health. Growing up, I thought emotions were something to hide, not something to talk about. I carried that mindset for years, even after moving to the U.S. Adjusting to a new country was hard. There were times when I felt alone and homesick, but slowly, I learned that talking about mental health doesn’t make you weak; it actually takes strength. The more I opened up to friends and family, the more I realized that many people were struggling too, even if they didn’t show it. During my last semester at Kapi‘olani Community College, my mental health struggles came back stronger than ever. COVID made everything more difficult: the isolation, the pressure, and the uncertainty. I was a full-time student taking online classes while working part-time, and the stress was overwhelming. There were days when I felt like giving up, but I reminded myself of why I started. I learned to slow down, take breaks, and give myself grace. That experience taught me that taking care of your mental health isn’t optional; it’s necessary. My journey with mental health has completely changed how I see people and life in general. I’ve learned to be more understanding, to listen without judgment, and to check on my friends because you never know what someone might be going through. I’ve also learned to be kinder to myself, to rest when I need to, to speak up when I’m struggling, and to appreciate how far I’ve come. Mental health will always be part of my story. I’ve had my share of bad days, but I’ve also learned how to bounce back. I’m proud of the person I’m becoming, someone who’s no longer afraid to share what I’ve been through. For me, healing isn’t about forgetting the past; it’s about growing from it and using it to help others. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s real strength in being vulnerable. Talking about what you’ve been through can help someone else feel less alone. I want to keep being that kind of person, someone who spreads understanding, hope, and compassion in a world where too many people are still afraid to talk about their mental health.

If an AI system were trained to understand and represent the Filipino-American experience, I would want it to know that our story is built on love, sacrifice, and perseverance. I came to the United States when I was around nine or ten years old, leaving behind my relatives, friends, and the home I knew in the Philippines. Moving to a new country was challenging, and I had to adjust to a new language, culture, and lifestyle. But through every challenge, my family became my biggest supporters. They worked hard so I could have the education and opportunities they never had. Because of them, I’m now studying Food Science and Human Nutrition with a specialization in Culinology at the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa. I’d want the AI to understand that food plays a huge part in who we are as Filipinos. Food is how we show love; it connects families and keeps our culture alive. When my Lola cooks adobo or sinigang, it’s not just a meal; it’s a piece of home, a memory, and a reminder of who we are. She taught me that cooking is more than following a recipe; it's about sharing your heart. That’s why I fell in love with both culinary arts and food science: to blend creativity with knowledge, and to represent my heritage in every dish I make. My journey hasn’t been easy. I left my job as a pastry chef to focus on school full-time, and it’s been tough financially. But my family always reminds me of tiis lang (endure) and bayanihan (helping one another). Those words give me strength when things get difficult. AI will never truly comprehend what it's like to miss home, to be proud of two cultures, or to see the happiness in your parents' eyes when they say, "We're proud of you," no matter how sophisticated technology becomes. Having two worlds in one heart and honoring them each day with love, faith, and bravery is what it means to be Filipino-American.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to become a chef. I used to spend hours in the kitchen trying to help out, even if it just meant mixing ingredients or watching how food was made. I loved how cooking could bring people together and make them happy. That’s when I realized that food isn’t just something we eat, it’s something that connects people and creates memories. That passion grew over the years and led me to earn my Associate of Science degree in Culinary Arts and Pastry Arts from Kapiʻolani Community College in Hawai‘i. Those years taught me the foundation of being a chef, from basic techniques to time management and working under pressure. Now, I’m continuing my education at the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, where I’m pursuing a Bachelor’s degree in Food Science and Human Nutrition with a specialization in Culinology. This program has opened my eyes to the science behind food and how creativity and research can come together to make something new and meaningful. The main reason I chose this career is that I love food and experimenting with it. I enjoy trying out new recipes, combining unexpected ingredients, and figuring out how to make food healthier without losing its flavor. I love that cooking gives me the freedom to express myself while also making people happy. Seeing someone enjoy something I made is one of the best feelings ever. A couple of months ago, I made a tough decision to quit my job as a pastry chef so I could focus more on finishing school. It wasn’t easy because I truly loved what I was doing, but I knew continuing my education would open more opportunities for me in the future. Ever since then, it’s been financially hard to keep up with tuition and living expenses. This scholarship would really help take off that stress, allowing me to focus on my studies and goals without worrying so much about money. My dream is to become either a professional chef or a food researcher. I want to combine creativity and science to develop new dishes and food products that are both delicious and nutritious. Whether it’s working in a kitchen or a lab, I want to keep learning, experimenting, and pushing myself to grow. In the future, I also want to give back by teaching or mentoring young culinary students. I know how it feels to struggle financially or to doubt yourself, and I want to help others keep going and believe in their own potential. Winning this scholarship would mean so much to me, not just because it would help financially, but because it would remind me that people believe in my passion and potential. It would motivate me to keep working hard and to continue honoring Chef Marco Pantano’s legacy of sharing love through food. For me, being in the culinary field isn’t just about cooking. It’s about creativity, dedication, and connection. With this scholarship, I’ll continue chasing my dream of becoming a chef or food researcher.