There is a quote by Shannon L. Adler that perfectly describes what legacy means to me: "Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you." Legacy is about what impact you leave on the world once your time on this planet is over. I view legacy as a positive idea, so I think leaving a legacy means you have made positive ripples on people and their lives. And I think it is important to remember that even a pebble creates numerous ripples on a lake. You do not need to drop a boulder to see its effects. In life, leaving a legacy does not mean you have to solve world hunger or cure cancer. You never know what small acts will make a large ripple. An example of this is when I served as an orientation leader in undergraduate school. At one of the lunches with the new students and their families, I saw a new student sitting alone. I decided to sit with her and ask her about her orientation week so far, where she was from, etc. I didn't think much of it, but last year that student came up to me on campus and told me how much she appreciated that because she felt isolated that her family was not there. She said it made her feel more connected to the school and she became President of one of the organizations I suggested to her in our conversation that day. These small acts get aggregated to become your legacy, and it is imprinted on others. And I like to think of legacy categorized in two ways--(1) personal and (2) community. The personal legacy is the one that you leave on your loved ones--friends, families, co-workers, etc. These are the people that you know personally and interact with on a regular basis. The impact and legacy you leave with them is probably stronger because you will have cultivated a relationship with that person. They will remember that time you went to McDonald's together and jammed to Camp Rock 2 and made such a random event fun. Or they will remember how you struggled with mental illness, got the help you needed, then helped another friend with their mental illness journey. The personal legacy is how you will be remembered with your loved ones. But then I also think there is a community legacy that is related to your what in life. For example, I am pursuing graduate school to one day become a health economist and make healthcare more patient-centered. My community legacy might be how I advocated for the hospital to devote more resources to family planning to empower women in their journey of motherhood. These families might not know me directly, but my impact on the community will be increased care for family planning. These legacies become the by-product of our decisions, passions, and personalities. Both are important because it is about what you have done in service to others. For me, I hope the community legacy I leave is bettering our healthcare system. I hope that I will live to see the day that my mom won't be afraid to take a road trip because she could not afford surgery if she were to get in a bad car accident. As for my personal legacy, I hope that my friends and family will remember my genuine kindness and support. At the end of the day, the things that I do for myself will go with me, but the things that I do for others will remain as my legacy.

Humans, by nature, need other humans in their life. This network of a community has evolutionarily allowed us to survive as a species. Not only do communities help us with survival through things like food, housing, and learning, but they also provide camaraderie that humans naturally look for. I think that we all have an obligation to help those that help us in order to grow our communities. And while it might seem like you have to help in big ways to actually make an impact on your community, that is not the case. Matt Bevin said, "While it may seem small, the ripple effects of small things is extraordinary." I have always done what I can to help my community whether it is from helping seniors use technology, beach clean-ups, or volunteering with the Boys & Girls Club. Even if these are a few hours here and there, I know that small things make an impact. More recently, I volunteered at COVID-19 vaccine sites to help with signing people in and other administrative tasks. Since the beginning of the pandemic, I saw firsthand what toll it had specifically on our front-line healthcare workers because my dad is an emergency room physician. He constantly came home stressed, exhausted, and depressed because having to tell family members their loved one had passed from COVID-19 was heartbreaking. Since I am not a healthcare professional, I did what I could to make masks with my mom for my dad's hospital and others in our community. We did our part to help others do their part in wearing their masks. I felt like I wasn't doing much, but I know that I was doing what I could. So when the chance came to physically help with vaccine sites, I jumped at the chance. I knew that getting people registered then signed in at the sites would help our communities stay safe and healthy. The closer we are to herd immunity, the better, and I thought this would help in a small way. I know that if there were not volunteers like me helping with the operational side of the vaccination process, others would be drained having to do it all themselves. If I can do something even as small as relieving some pressure from others, I think my work was worth it. One day specifically, I remember signing in an older woman who told me she is not the greatest with needles. So when it was her turn to get her shot, I held her hand and talked to her so that she could distract herself from the needle. This is something my mom did for me growing up (and I wish she still could but unfortunately I am too old for that now), so I did my best to comfort her. I know that this small act would help her feel more comfortable and she told me how much she appreciated it. Small acts make extraordinary ripples. And even though I am not skilled as a health professional, I plan on using my knowledge and skills to help the healthcare field from a different angle. I am pursuing my Master's in Economics in order to become a health economist and make the healthcare field more patient-centered. No one should have to choose if they can afford a life-saving surgery. In my field, I want to make the healthcare field more equitable and accessible. Past my Master's, I hope to pursue a PhD and conduct research in health economics. A topic I am particularly interested in was actually something I learned about from one of my leadership studies courses called Critical Discourse, Social Change, and Positive Peace. In class, we made a list of the world's biggest problems. Looking at the list made me heartbroken, but he then introduced this idea of the universe of moral obligation, which posits that people have different scopes of who they feel morally obligated to help. For some it is just their immediate family, some it is their entire state, and some feel obligated to help others from the other side of the globe. I want to know why some people have different sizes and if there are ways that we can increase our universe of moral obligation. I believe that understanding this will help us better understand people and translate it into social change, specifically with healthcare. I hope it is not too idealistic to believe I can actually help others, but I remind myself of Matt Bevin's words that small things make extraordinary ripples.

I actually lost my interest and confidence in math my freshman year of high school. I felt defeated and unintelligent and swore to pursue a major in college that would not have anything to do with the subject. Yet somehow in college, I found a strong fascination for economics and analytics. My introduction to microeconomics required a little bit of math and my introduction to Python class was rewarding. Little did I know that I would end up taking numerous courses in mathematics, statistics, and programming. And while these classes were challenging and a few tears were shed, it has all been worth it. I never knew how much of a confidence builder it was to understand math and sometimes even find it fun! Not only is it rewarding to solve that double integral using polar coordinates or seeing how contour maps can be used in topography, but it is remarkable seeing how math tells a story. By just using variables, I can create equations to connect multiple events that appear to have no connection at all. This fundamental understanding in math allows me, as a future economist, to give evidence to an intangible idea. For example, I worked as a research assistant that assessed the validity of regional cultures in the United States and its affect on economic factors. "Culture" is often a factor attributed to affecting outcomes, but instead of using this as an arbitrary reason, we were able to use math and numbers to prove that it actually does have some weight. By converting U.S. Census data to a usable format, we were able to show that the suggested eleven nations, or cultures, within the U.S. has an affect on migration patterns and voting patterns. This was just the beginning of the project, and it could be used to explain more about our understanding of culture on economic factors. Without this background in analytics and mathematics, we would have never been able to draw that connection and tell the story of regional cultures in the United States. I love how I can use numbers to tangibly solve complex societal problems. Because of my regained confidence in the subject, I am excited to pursue graduate school and study mathematics for my Master's in Economics even further. And after I build up a stronger technical arsenal, I intend on applying to Doctorate programs and earn my PhD in Economics. Math has been a crucial part in that journey and I believe I now have the confidence to partake in this long but worthwhile journey.

I find it fascinating that people you don't even personally know can have such a profound impact on your life. Philanthropists, CEOs, artists, lawmakers, family, activists, and researchers have all reached a part of me that make me who I am. I'm grateful for the internet, books, and social media that is able to connect me to such incredible people. As part of my leadership studies minor in college, I took LEAD 101 where we watched a TED talk titled "The power of vulnerability" by the wonderful Brené Brown. I had not heard of her until then, and I am grateful for my leadership professor for caring so deeply about vulnerability and its ties to leadership. Brené Brown is a social sciences researcher and now has two podcast shows called "Dare to Lead" and "Unlocking Us" where she gives voice to other impactful people. Not only is the content of her work motivating and necessary, but her intense thought for others is what inspires me the most. Her personality radiates through my earbuds when I listen to her podcasts on my morning runs. She is real. And I wish that wasn't such a sought-after quality, but it seems harder to come by nowadays. When she has guests on her show, she makes sure to really engage in the conversation, even if it is difficult. She asks questions and it feels like I am learning right there with her. But the most important skill Brené Brown has taught me is the power and strength of listening. I talk a lot--mostly because silence scares me and makes me feel uncomfortable--but it is something I am trying to work on. I have a goal this year to listen as much as I talk because Brené Brown has shown me the magic that comes from listening. And I think it is important to distinguish the difference between hearing and listening--listening is when you are really there with the other person. You are present and open. With listening, you are able to understand the deep roots of a person's core--their thoughts, feelings, experiences. When we listen, we connect. And connection fosters understanding. My future plan is to become a health economist, meaning I want to use my economics and analytics background to improve the healthcare system to be more patient-based. This role would require me to understand different backgrounds to make the healthcare system work for patients. No one should have to choose if they can afford to have a life-altering surgery. That requires true listening skills to make the system better. And while I recognize that it is incredibly idealistic to believe I could single-handedly change the healthcare system, I believe that small steps aggregated can lead to big change. Thanks to Brené Brown, I am going to do my best to listen more, and I hope others try to do the same.