My passion for art began at the tender age of five. Growing up, I was deeply influenced by my dad, who worked as a skilled woodworker. He always had a collection of sketchbooks filled with detailed drawings of wood furniture designs in his locker. What made those sketchbooks even more special was that they were more than just drawings; they were a window into creativity and craftsmanship. I remember stealing them quietly and spending hours tracing, doodling, and adding my own little touches to the sketches of chairs, tables, and cabinets. Those early moments were my first real connection to art, not just as a pastime, but as a way to express myself and explore my imagination. Personally, I feel most creative at night, when I finally have time to lie on my bed and look at other artists’ work. There’s something about seeing someone else’s vision come to life that gives me this sudden urge to get off my bed, grab my brushes, or my tablet, and start creating. My creativity often comes as a sudden impulse. It’s not scheduled or calculated. It just "hits" me, and I follow that spark wherever it leads. But for a long time, I stopped following that spark. I’m Vietnamese, and my life has been full of challenges that shaped who I am, and how I make art. My family went through bankruptcy, and we had no money. Loan sharks showed up at our door, and life was filled with fear and instability. In middle school, I was bullied, and even my head teacher seemed to have something against me. Then, I had to leave my home and move to America, alone, leaving my mom behind. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. All that trauma made me push art away. I assumed it was just a waste of time, something I couldn’t afford to care about anymore. When I started applying to college, I remember telling my highschool ESL teacher that I didn’t want to pursue art. I wanted to choose a practical path, to earn money doing something more “realistic.” She spent hours trying to convince me. She told me I had potential, that I was good at this, and I shouldn’t throw it away. But I didn’t listen. Then something strange happened. At the very last minute, I changed my major to art. I couldn’t stop thinking about what she said. And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to believe that maybe she was right. I guess I do look good holding a brush, losing myself in the flow of creation. When I create, I feel alive. To stop doing art now would feel like giving up on that old self, the one who dared to imagine, who believed in the power of expression, even when everything else felt uncertain. After all, life has started to get better. I’ve found sincere friends who support me, and I’ve learned not to give up. Now, art is how I tell stories. I create pieces that reflect my identity, my struggles, my healing. I want people to look at my work and understand what I’m trying to say. I want them to feel something, even if they’ve never lived my story, maybe they can find a part of themselves in it.

My uncle has always been one of the biggest influences in my life. He has played a significant role in shaping me into the person I am today, and I am forever grateful for his guidance and support. Unfortunately, my uncle was a victim of addiction. Drug has taken away his life and changed him in ways we never imagined. It all started off innocently enough, none of us could have predicted the downward spiral that would follow, or the devastating impact it would have on our family. As time passed, his addiction worsened, with heavy hearts and a sense of resignation, we made the decision to send him to a psychiatric hospital. As we made our way to the hospital, the weight of the situation seemed to bear down on our shoulders. We held our breath as we entered the building, we knew it was the only way to save him, to give him the help and support he so desperately needed. Due to our busy schedule, my family was only able to visit him once a week. As a kid, visiting a psychiatric hospital was one of the most daunting and terrifying experiences in my life. I observed the patients roaming the halls, their blank stares, distant expressions, the muffled cries, and painful screams surrounding the building. Entering the room where my uncle was at. Looking at him, I was completely in shock. He was skin and bones, his skin became pale, his eyes were now dull, and his hands were bound in metal handcuffs. He stared at me and asked " Who are you? " In a raspy voice. In that moment, I sobbed uncontrollably. I could not help but feel a sense of anger and frustration at the cruelty of life. It was a gloomy day when the phone rang, the hospital's number appeared on my mom's phone. As I stood next to her, listening to their conversation, my world came crashing down. My beloved uncle has passed away. He passed away without ever remembering my name, adding another layer of grief and sadness to me. Years later, me and my dad made the decision to move to the U.S to seek a better life. Before leaving for the U.S, I visited his tombstone for the last time. Standing in front of his tombstone with burning incense in my hands. I proceeded to close my eyes and send my thoughts into the wind, asking for his guidance and protection in the hope that he would feel my presence and know that he was always in my heart. As a first-generation college student, I believe that college education is one of the most significant fundamentals to achieve success. By having this scholarship, I will have an opportunity to further my education, finding out my passion that will prepare me for my future career. I want to challenge myself to participate in extracurricular activities to obtain more valuable experiences and insight into many sectors to accomplish my academic goals. Through extracurricular and academic endeavors, I believe that my steadfast commitment will help me figure out how to reach my objectives. By sharing my uncle’s story, I hope we can prevent others from suffering the same fate as my beloved uncle by educating ourselves and those around us to never have a thought of trying drugs. After college, my long- term goal is to provide financial support to my family with the resources my career can provide. One of these days, I want to repay all they have done and be a daughter that they can be proud of.

My uncle has always been one of the biggest influencers in my life. Throughout my childhood, he was a constant presence in my life, always there to offer a guiding hand or a word of wisdom. He has played a significant role in shaping me into the person I am today, and I am forever grateful for his guidance and support. Unfortunately, my uncle was a victim of addiction. Drugs has taken away his life and changed him in ways we never imagined. It all started off innocently enough, none of us could have predicted the downward spiral that would follow, or the devastating impact it would have on our family. As time passed, his addiction worsened, with heavy hearts and a sense of resignation, we made the decision to send him to a psychiatric hospital. As we made our way to the hospital, the weight of the situation seemed to bear down on our shoulders. We held our breath as we entered the building, we knew it was the only way to save him, to give him the help and support he so desperately needed. Due to our busy schedule, my family was only able to visit him once a week. As a kid, visiting a psychiatric hospital was one of the most daunting and terrifying experiences in my life. I observed the patients roaming the halls, their blank stares, distant expressions and the muffled cries and painful screams surrounded the building. Entering the room where my uncle was at. Looking at him, I was completely in shock. He was skin and bones, his skin became pale, his eyes were now dull, and his hands were bound in cold, metal handcuffs. He stared at me and asked " Who are you? " In a raspy voice. In that moment, I sobbed uncontrollably. I could not help but feel a sense of anger and frustration at the cruelty of life. It was a gloomy day when the phone rang, the hospital's number appeared on my mom's phone. As I stood next to her, listening to their conversation, my world came crashing down. My beloved uncle has passed away. He passed away without ever remembering my name, adding another layer of grief and sadness within me. Years later, me and my dad made the decision to move to the U.S to seek for a better life. Before leaving to the U.S, I visited his tombstone for the last time. Standing in front of his tombstone with a burning incense in my hands. I proceeded to close my eyes and send my thoughts into the wind, asking for his guidance and protection in the hope that he would feel my presence and know that he was always in my heart. As the incense burned down to ashes, I found myself at ease, knowing that no matter where life took me, he would always be by my side. My uncle's passing has taught me many valuable lessons. I ‘ve learned that drug addiction is a devastating issue. It not only destroys lives, but it can also rob people of their memories and ultimately their identities. By sharing his story, I hope we can prevent others from suffering the same fate as my beloved uncle by educating ourselves and those around us to never have a thought of trying drugs. Furthermore, I hope everyone can spend more time with their family and their loved ones, it will be a decision you won't regret. I will keep the faith and overcome any obstacles that may come my way to achieve success and accomplish my goals.

As a member of LGBTQ community, the struggle for acceptance and equality is an ongoing battle. In a society that still is not completely inclusive or understanding of different sexual orientations and gender identities, it can be difficult to have the confidence and bravery to express oneself openly and freely. I am a bisexual. This realization came to me at the age of 14. Back to 2018, I had an opportunity to meet a girl through a video game. The moment I heard her voice, my heart skipped a beat. Her laughter was like music to my ears and her walks were so graceful and alluring. As I spent more time with her, I realized that my feelings for her were not just only admiration and friendship, they were something else because I found myself irresistibly drawn to her. Much later, I had enough confidence to confess my feelings to her, only to be met with disgust and rejection. She repulsed by the idea of being loved by someone who identifies as bisexual. However, I couldn't blame her. She is a Muslim; homosexuality is often considered taboo and condemned in her religion. So, it is crucial to navigate this situation with understanding, and respect. I realized that if we want to grow and evolve as individuals. It requires us to be brave, to face our emotions with honesty and courage, and to trust that letting go of the past will make room for new beginnings. I decided to move on and keep savoring the journey of life. Nevertheless, I have chosen to keep my bisexuality a secret from others due to the fear of judgment, rejection, and being treated differently. I am the first generation immigrant and college student who comes from a low-income family. I have encountered numerous inequitable situations that have made it difficult for me to access opportunities due to my background. Having to witness my dad works over 12 hours a day feels like torture. Hence, I firmly believe that my motivation to go to college is bigger than anyone else. College is often seen as a steppingstone to success since it provides students the opportunity to explore new ideas, expand your relationship, and develop skills that will uncover the purpose of life. Therefore, during my time in college, I want to challenge myself to step out of my comfort zone and figure out who I really am. Receiving a scholarship will give me an opportunity to achieve my objectives as I pursue my career in the field of business administration and graphic design, my long-term goal is to provide financial support to my family with the opportunities and resources my career can provided. I hope to spend more time and be able to take a good care of my family because they have afforded me the opportunity to savor the sweetness of life and the joys of this world. One of these days, I want to repay all they have done and be a daughter that they can be proud of. Furthermore, as a member of LGBTQ+ community. I understand the hardships and struggles that many individuals have to face in daily life. So, I plan to give back to the LGBTQ community by donating to organizations and charities that support LGBTQ rights and provide services for LGBTQ individuals in need. Moreover, I will use my success and financial resources to create opportunities for LGBTQ individuals to thrive in academic such as establishing a scholarship group/ organization like Star Farm Scholarship for LGBTQ+ Students because " All for one and one for all "-Alexandre Dumas.