Life is never without obstacles, but I’ve learned that how we face them often defines us more than the challenges themselves. For me, resilience has meant choosing not to give up, even when self-doubt or setbacks felt overwhelming. One of the biggest tests of this came through music. As a flutist, I’ve faced difficult auditions, the pressure of live performance, and moments where my confidence faltered. I remember preparing tirelessly for an audition I cared about deeply, only to walk away without the result I had hoped for. At first, it felt like proof that I wasn’t good enough. But over time, I realized that failure is not the opposite of success—it is part of it. Each setback pushed me to improve my technique, strengthen my focus, and develop the emotional resilience that makes me not only a better musician but a stronger person. That resilience has carried into other areas of my life. Transitioning between schools and adapting to new environments has not always been easy, especially while balancing academics and music commitments. There were times when I felt stretched thin, but I discovered that staying organized, setting small goals, and leaning on my passion for music helped me push through. I am proud that I’ve been able to maintain my studies, grow as a performer, and build a path forward in a field I love. Equally important to me is using what I’ve learned to support others. Teaching children music has been one of the most rewarding ways I’ve contributed to my community. I’ve worked with students who were frustrated, convinced they couldn’t play a note or keep a rhythm. I saw myself in their struggle—the same self-doubt I once had—and I knew how important it was to encourage them. Through patience, creativity, and making music fun, I watched those same children transform frustration into excitement. Their breakthroughs reminded me that resilience isn’t just something we practice for ourselves—it’s something we can nurture in others. I’ve also made a point to be supportive to my peers. Whether it’s offering encouragement before a performance, stepping up to lead when needed, or quietly helping someone who feels lost, I’ve found that even small gestures can strengthen a community. Music has taught me that success is rarely an individual achievement—it comes from collaboration, from listening, and from helping each other shine. I am proud of what I’ve accomplished, not only in terms of awards or performances, but in the determination it took to get there. I’m proud of the times I chose to keep practicing after a setback, or the times I lifted someone else up when they needed support. These are the moments that define resilience and show me the kind of impact I want to continue making. Moving forward, I see resilience as a skill I’ll carry for the rest of my life. I want to continue pushing myself as a musician while also using music to inspire, comfort, and empower others. Success, to me, is not just about personal milestones—it’s about the ways I’ve turned challenges into growth and shared that growth with my community.

Mental health plays a significant role in both my academic performance and my personal life. When I am feeling balanced and supported, I am able to stay focused, motivated, and engaged with my studies. However, during times of stress or anxiety, it becomes harder to concentrate, retain information, and manage my responsibilities. Even when I care deeply about the material, I sometimes find myself struggling to stay present in class or to meet deadlines with the same clarity and confidence I know I’m capable of. Beyond academics, my mental health affects how I interact with others and how I view myself. When I’m overwhelmed, I may withdraw from social activities or doubt my abilities, which can create a cycle of isolation and self-criticism. On the other hand, when I prioritize my well-being, I notice that I approach friendships, music, and daily life with more patience, creativity, and openness. It’s not about eliminating stress entirely, but about finding ways to manage it so it doesn’t control me. Because of this, I’ve learned to take intentional steps to make my mental health a priority. Music is one of the most important outlets for me. Practicing flute allows me to center myself and release tension through something creative. It gives me a sense of structure while also reminding me why I am passionate about what I do. In addition to music, I use simple but effective strategies: organizing my schedule so I don’t feel overwhelmed, setting realistic goals, and giving myself breaks to recharge when I need them. Exercise, spending time outdoors, and journaling also help me process my thoughts and relieve stress. Another key step has been learning to reach out for support when I need it. Talking with friends, mentors, or family members helps me remember that I don’t have to handle everything alone. A single conversation can make challenges feel lighter, and it reminds me that asking for help is a sign of strength, not weakness. I’ve also realized that maintaining healthy routines—like getting enough sleep and balancing work with rest—makes a big difference in how I handle academic and personal responsibilities. Mental health will always be a part of the equation as I move through school, but I don’t see it as an obstacle I have to overcome once and for all. Instead, I see it as something I need to care for consistently, the same way I care for my physical health. By acknowledging its importance, I give myself permission to take steps that help me succeed not only as a student but also as a person. In the end, I believe that prioritizing mental health allows me to show up more fully in both academics and life. When I am balanced, I can bring energy, focus, and creativity to my studies and my music. I can also be a better friend, classmate, and collaborator. For me, making mental health a priority is not separate from pursuing my goals—it is what makes achieving them possible.

The music landscape today is both inspiring and complicated. On one hand, technology and social media have made music more accessible than ever, giving artists the ability to share their voices instantly with the world. On the other hand, this accessibility can reduce music to quick moments of attention, where virality is sometimes valued more than artistry. Classical music, in particular, often struggles against being seen as distant or outdated. Yet I believe this moment offers an opportunity: to reimagine how music is shared and to show that it can be both rooted in tradition and alive with new ideas. For me, the flute is at the center of this vision. I’ve always been drawn to its ability to carry so many different characters, lyrical and expressive one moment, playful and sparkling the next. The flute feels almost like a voice, capable of communicating directly to the listener without words. When I play, I want people to feel not only the beauty of the instrument but also the emotions and stories behind the music. At the same time, my love for jazz has shaped the way I see music’s future. Jazz is built on improvisation, freedom, and dialogue, and that spirit has taught me to approach music as something fluid rather than fixed. While classical performance often demands precision and structure, jazz reminds me that there is also value in risk-taking, spontaneity, and personal expression. I like bringing that perspective into my flute playing, even when I’m not playing jazz outright, it gives me the courage to phrase differently, to take ownership of the sound, and to treat music as a conversation with the audience. Teaching and sharing music with others has also influenced how I view my role in today’s landscape. When I introduce the flute to children or peers, I see how quickly music can shift from intimidating to joyful. The excitement of making a first sound, or recognizing a familiar tune, reminds me that music’s real power lies in accessibility. It doesn’t matter if it’s a classical piece, a jazz riff, or a simple melody, what matters is the connection. That is where impact begins: not necessarily on the largest stages, but in the moments when music makes someone feel included, understood, or inspired. I don’t see my path as choosing between tradition and innovation, but rather bringing them together. I want to continue developing as a classical performer, while also exploring how the flute can cross into unexpected spaces, through jazz influences, interdisciplinary projects, and performances outside of traditional concert halls. I hope to challenge assumptions about what the flute can do and who it can reach. Ultimately, I see myself as a bridge in the current music world. The flute, with its adaptability and voice-like quality, allows me to carry forward the richness of classical tradition while also embracing the openness of jazz and contemporary music. My goal is to create performances and teaching moments that feel welcoming and alive, where audiences and students walk away with the sense that music truly belongs to them. The music landscape may continue to change, but connection will always be at its heart. Through the flute, I want to contribute to that connection, by inspiring curiosity, celebrating diversity of expression, and reminding people that music is not just something to listen to, but something to feel and share.

I’ve always been drawn to both mathematics and music because, at their core, they are deeply structured yet inherently expressive. While they may seem like entirely separate disciplines, I see them as two different languages, each with its own logic, form, and rhythm. Both require discipline, attention to detail, and the ability to think abstractly. As a flutist and music student, I’ve found that the same part of my brain that processes musical phrasing and harmonic structure is also engaged when I work through a mathematical problem. Mathematics appeals to me because of its clarity and universality. There’s an elegance in how complex systems can be understood through foundational principles, much like how a musical composition builds on scales, intervals, and patterns. In both fields, mastery doesn’t come from rote memorization, but from developing intuition and insight over time. They both require patience, persistence, and a willingness to engage with complexity, skills I’ve cultivated through years of musical practice and mathematical study. My appreciation for math isn’t about finding the “right” answer, but about the process of understanding how and why something works. In the same way that a musician interprets a score to bring it to life, a mathematician interprets abstract concepts to reveal structure and meaning. The parallels between these disciplines have shaped the way I think and learn, and I believe my dual engagement with them makes me a more thoughtful and well-rounded student. Ultimately, I see math and music not as separate interests, but as complementary ways of interpreting the world, one through sound and the other through structure. Both have given me a deeper appreciation for complexity, beauty, and the power of patterns.

Music has always been the center of my world. I started as a flutist, captivated by the way a single note could evoke deep emotion and connection. But as I continued my studies, especially in New York City where innovation and tradition constantly collide, I began to realize that my love for music extended beyond performance. I became increasingly curious about the tools and technology that bring music to life, how sound is recorded, manipulated, mixed, and shared with the world. This curiosity led me to music technology, and I quickly realized it was more than a side interest, it was a path that combined my passion for sound with my love of problem-solving and creativity. One moment that solidified my decision to pursue this field came during a class recording project. I was helping a peer capture a flute solo, and after hours of experimenting with mic placements, EQ settings, and spatial mixing techniques, I finally got the sound to match the emotion of the piece. That moment of alignment, where the technology supported and enhanced the performance, was incredibly powerful. I realized I didn’t just want to be in front of the mic; I wanted to be behind the board, shaping how music is experienced. As a first-generation college student, my journey hasn’t always been easy. My family has always supported me emotionally, but I’ve had to figure out a lot on my own, financial aid, academic planning, career pathways, all while balancing school and work. When I first started exploring music technology, I didn’t have access to expensive gear or software. I made the most of free tools, online tutorials, and school resources, staying up late to teach myself DAWs, audio editing, and even some coding. Each challenge only deepened my commitment and pushed me to be more resourceful. What draws me to music technology is its unique blend of art and science. It’s a space where creativity and technical skill meet, where innovation can make music more inclusive, more immersive, and more impactful. I want to be part of that future, whether it’s by engineering tracks, designing sound environments, or developing tools that help artists express themselves in new ways. This field allows me to bring my full self, musician, technologist, creator, problem-solver, into the work I do. And though the path hasn’t always been smooth, every challenge has made me more determined to keep moving forward. Looking ahead, I see myself not only working in studios or live sound environments but also contributing to the development of accessible music technology. I’m especially interested in how technology can break down barriers, whether that’s creating tools for disabled musicians, expanding access to music education through digital platforms, or finding new ways to amplify underrepresented voices in the industry. My goal is to use my skills to make music technology a more inclusive and innovative space. Being both a performer and a technologist gives me a unique perspective, and I want to use that to bridge gaps, between artist and engineer, tradition and innovation, community and industry.

As a music student living and studying in New York City, I’ve found myself surrounded by endless inspiration, challenges, and opportunities to grow as both a musician and a person. I am currently pursuing a degree in music performance, with a focus on flute, and every day I become more certain that this is what I’m meant to do. Music has always been the way I express myself most clearly, and I feel incredibly grateful to be in an environment where I can study it seriously. Playing the flute has been a part of my life for years, and through it, I’ve discovered not only a deep love for performance but also a drive to constantly improve. I know that music is a lifelong journey, and I am committed to continuing my studies beyond my bachelor’s degree by pursuing a master’s in music performance. I have big dreams, playing in professional ensembles, collaborating with other passionate musicians, and possibly even teaching the next generation of flutists. What makes my journey even more meaningful is that I am the first person in my family to attend college. My parents have always supported me the best they could, but higher education was never something they had access to themselves. Navigating the academic and financial realities of college on my own has been challenging, but I’ve never let that stop me. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, balancing school, practice, and part-time jobs to support myself. Receiving this scholarship would mean more than just financial support, it would represent a belief in my potential and a crucial stepping stone to achieving my goals. It would help ensure that I can complete my bachelor’s degree without taking on unsustainable debt and move forward with my plans to attend graduate school. I want to be able to focus on my growth as a musician and take full advantage of the opportunities available to me, rather than being held back by financial uncertainty. Music has the power to move people, to tell stories, and to build connections across differences. I am committed to being a part of that world, not just for myself, but for my family and community who’ve supported me along the way. With your support, I can take the next steps in turning this passion into a lifelong career. Beyond just performing, I’m also passionate about making classical music more accessible and inclusive. Too often, the world of classical music can feel closed off or intimidating, especially to people from underrepresented communities. As someone who didn’t grow up with easy access to private lessons, expensive instruments, or elite programs, I understand how hard it can be to break into this field. That’s why, in the future, I hope to create and be part of initiatives that bring music education to underserved areas, whether through teaching, community outreach, or mentoring young musicians like myself who just need someone to believe in them. I don’t just want to succeed for myself, I want to open doors for others, too.

Being a purposeful, responsible, and productive community member means actively contributing to the well-being and growth of the community while staying true to one’s values and goals. It involves acting with intention, understanding the impact of one’s actions, and working collaboratively to create positive change. Purposefulness means setting clear goals that not only serve personal growth but also benefit others. Responsibility means recognizing the role I play within my community, being accountable for my actions, and standing up for what is right. Productivity is about turning intentions into meaningful actions, whether through service, leadership, or supporting others, and making tangible contributions that help the community thrive. As an Armenian, I belong to a community that is often underrepresented and misunderstood. This adds an extra layer of importance to my role as a community member. Many Armenian voices are missing from conversations that shape society, and I have seen how stereotypes or lack of awareness can limit opportunities for people like me. To be purposeful in this context means using my education and talents to amplify Armenian stories and experiences, helping to build greater understanding and respect for my culture. I plan to embody responsibility by actively engaging in efforts that support not only my immediate community but also broader groups that face similar challenges. This means advocating for representation, participating in cultural events, and mentoring younger members of my community to help them see the value of their heritage and their potential. Being responsible also involves challenging injustices and biases whenever I encounter them, and encouraging others to do the same. Productivity to me means turning this commitment into action. Whether through volunteer work, leadership roles, or creative projects, I want to contribute in ways that make a real difference. For example, I plan to use my passion for the arts and storytelling to highlight underrepresented voices and foster dialogue across cultures. By creating spaces where diverse perspectives are celebrated, I can help build a more inclusive and vibrant community. In my future, I will continue to carry these values by staying engaged, listening to others, and acting with integrity. I understand that being purposeful, responsible, and productive is a continuous journey, one that requires humility, courage, and dedication. I am ready to embrace this challenge, knowing that by doing so, I can help pave the way for a stronger, more connected community where everyone has the opportunity to succeed and be heard.

Arts education has profoundly shaped my life from a very young age, becoming a foundation for who I am and how I understand the world. Growing up, music was never just an activity or a class to me, it was a way to express emotions, tell stories, and connect with others in ways words alone could not. Learning to play the flute introduced me to discipline and patience, but it also opened a door to a community where collaboration and creativity thrive. Through music, I found a space where I could be both challenged and comforted, where practice was a path toward growth, and performance was an opportunity to share something deeply personal with an audience. The impact of arts education goes beyond technical skills. It taught me how to listen, not just to notes or rhythms but to the subtle language of emotion and intention behind every piece of music. I learned that every phrase has meaning, every silence speaks, and that music can be a bridge between cultures, ideas, and hearts. This understanding has influenced not only my approach to music but also how I relate to people in my everyday life. It has encouraged empathy, patience, and a commitment to lifelong learning. Without arts education, I wouldn’t have developed the confidence and sense of identity that carry me through both successes and setbacks. One of the most important inspirations in my musical journey has been the flutist Paula Robison. From the moment I first encountered her recordings and performances, I was captivated by her artistry and depth. What struck me most about Paula Robison was not just her technical mastery but the way she infused every note with emotion and storytelling. She showed me that playing the flute is not simply about hitting the right notes, but about conveying a message, evoking a feeling, and creating an experience for listeners. Watching and listening to Paula Robison inspired me to view the flute as a tool for connection, a way to share parts of myself and to reach others on a deeper level. Her career demonstrated the possibilities of what dedication to the arts can achieve, and that motivated me to persevere through the challenges of practice and performance. Like many musicians, I faced moments of doubt and frustration, but knowing that someone like Paula had walked that path before me gave me hope and strength. She pushed me to not settle for just playing well, but to pursue excellence with heart and intention. Beyond Paula Robison, my teachers and family have been vital to my growth as a musician and a person. They have encouraged me to push my limits, to embrace creativity, and to see music as a lifelong journey rather than a destination. Their support reminded me that the arts are a powerful way to contribute to the world, by sharing beauty, provoking thought, and inspiring others. In reflecting on how arts education has impacted my life, I realize it has given me much more than musical skills. It has given me a voice, a way to process my experiences, and a desire to connect with and uplift others through creativity. Paula Robison’s artistry was the spark that fueled my passion, and the lessons I’ve learned from teachers and family have provided the fuel to keep moving forward. I am grateful for every opportunity to learn, perform, and grow, and I am committed to continuing this journey, not just for myself, but for the people who will listen and find meaning in the music I create.

My “why” comes from a deep belief in the power of storytelling and creative expression to connect people, inspire change, and preserve culture. As a musician and storyteller, I’m motivated by the idea that art isn’t just something we consume for entertainment, it’s a way to share our experiences, communicate emotions, and build bridges across differences. Whether I’m playing the flute, writing, or imagining new stories, I want my work to reflect the complexity and beauty of the world around me. One lifelong project I’m passionate about is creating a multimedia series that blends music, visual art, and storytelling to explore themes of identity, heritage, and resilience. This project would combine my love of the performing arts with digital media, like animation or graphic novels, to reach wider audiences in fresh, engaging ways. Through this, I hope to highlight underrepresented voices and offer stories that inspire others to embrace their own backgrounds and dreams. In a world where technology like artificial intelligence and digital art tools are advancing rapidly, I see immense opportunity rather than threat. These tools allow artists to experiment with new styles and techniques, expanding what’s possible in storytelling and creation. As a student of the arts, I plan to use these technologies thoughtfully, blending traditional skills with digital innovation to bring my vision to life. However, I believe the heart of art will always lie in human creativity and intention, the unique perspectives and emotions only we can bring. Ultimately, my motivation is to contribute meaningfully to the arts by creating work that resonates, uplifts, and connects. Through my lifelong project and ongoing learning, I want to carry forward the spirit of creation, honoring tradition while embracing the new, and inspiring others to find their own creative voices. Moving forward, I am committed to continuously learning how to integrate these evolving tools while staying true to the authenticity of my voice and craft. I understand that technology can amplify creativity when used with purpose, but it cannot replace the emotional depth and nuance that human artists provide. My goal is to be a creator who respects the roots of artistic expression, the stories passed down through generations, the sounds that connect us emotionally, and the visual elements that evoke shared experiences, while embracing the possibilities that technology offers to enhance those stories. Whether through composing original flute pieces that accompany digital storytelling, collaborating with visual artists on immersive projects, or experimenting with AI-assisted creative tools, I want to be at the forefront of innovation that honors both tradition and progress. By doing so, I hope to inspire others in my community and beyond to pursue their creative passions confidently, knowing that art remains a vital and evolving language that shapes how we understand ourselves and each other.

Over the past two semesters, I’ve remained focused and determined to grow both academically and personally. I’ve maintained a strong GPA while taking challenging courses, including honors classes that have pushed me to think more critically and manage my time more effectively. Outside of the classroom, I’ve stayed active in school activities such as band, which has taught me the importance of discipline, collaboration, and creative expression. I’ve also taken part in community service and student-led projects that allowed me to build leadership skills and connect with others. Every part of this journey has taught me how to stay grounded and committed, even when things get difficult. As a young Armenian woman, I’ve become increasingly aware of the challenges that women like me can face when navigating school, society, and future career goals. In many ways, being part of a tight-knit cultural community is a strength, but it can also come with expectations that don’t always align with independence or self-expression. There’s often pressure to follow a certain path or stay within certain roles, especially for women. I’ve had to learn how to respect my roots while also creating my own definition of success. This scholarship’s mission really speaks to me because I believe that every woman who overcomes obstacles and pushes past barriers opens the door for others. I’ve seen the power of representation, even in small ways, whether it’s hearing a woman speak confidently in a male-dominated space or watching a peer choose a field that’s not “traditional.” These experiences have inspired me to keep moving forward, not only for myself, but for the girls and women who may be looking for permission to do the same. While I am not planning to major in political science, I do believe that change is political in every form, whether it’s through education, art, advocacy, or leadership. I hope to use my education to help shift narratives, give voice to underrepresented communities, and support other young women in finding their place and their power. As an Armenian woman entering college, I want to continue building a future that reflects strength, purpose, and growth. I believe that with support and determination, we can shape a more inclusive society, one where every young woman feels empowered to lead and be heard. As I prepare to enter college, I am committed to not only advancing my own education but also becoming a mentor and advocate for other young women in my community. I want to help break down the barriers that hold us back and create more opportunities for future generations of Armenian women and women everywhere. This scholarship would provide vital support as I pursue my goals and continue working to uplift others. By investing in young women like me, this scholarship helps build a stronger, more inclusive society, one where women can claim their space and make their mark without fear or limitation.

To me, collaboration in music is about trust, listening, and the energy that comes from creating something together. It’s more than just performing the same piece at the same time. It’s about connection, with the music, with the audience, and especially with the people you're playing alongside. Music, especially in ensemble settings, forces you to slow down, pay attention to the smallest details, and find balance with others. You have to listen as much as you play, and that’s what makes it so powerful. As a flute player, I’ve learned that collaboration starts with being aware of your role in the bigger picture. There are times when the flute carries the melody and needs to stand out, but just as often, it’s about blending in, supporting, or echoing someone else’s part. That balance, knowing when to lead and when to support, is something that carries beyond music into life and relationships. One of the most meaningful collaborative experiences I’ve had was during my school’s concert season last year. We were preparing a piece that had some really tricky rhythms and a lot of layering between instruments. At first, it felt like we were all just trying to stay on track. But through long rehearsals, sectionals, and small conversations between breaks, we started to figure each other out. I got better at timing my entrances by watching our percussionist’s cues. I learned how to phrase a line so it connected more smoothly with the clarinets. And most importantly, I learned that the best performances come from mutual respect, not just technical ability. What really stuck with me was how much the relationships mattered by the time we performed. It wasn’t just about the music anymore. It was about the work we had put in together. The shared frustration, encouragement, and progress that happened during all those hours of preparation made it meaningful. That’s the part I think Pam Branchini understood so well. The real beauty of music and art comes from the process and the people, not just the final performance. In the future, I hope to keep building that kind of connection through music. Whether I end up performing, teaching, or taking a different path entirely, I want collaboration to stay at the center of what I do. It is where the creativity happens, and it is what makes music feel alive. Collaboration in music has taught me how to listen more carefully, accept feedback, adjust in real time, and work toward a shared goal. These are lessons I carry with me both on and off stage, and they are a big part of why I continue to love this field.

To me, success isn’t measured by money, awards, or status. It’s about showing up for the people you love, staying grounded in who you are, and finding purpose even when life throws you off track. My older brother is the person who taught me that, just by being who he is. Growing up, my brother didn’t have it easy. As the oldest child in an immigrant family, he had to grow up fast. He was the one who helped translate at the doctor’s office, filled out school forms, and made sure I stayed on the right path. He was our family’s go-to problem solver, even when he was still figuring things out for himself. That kind of pressure could have made him shut down or turn cold, but instead, he became someone dependable, thoughtful, and calm in the chaos. What made that even more meaningful to me was how he still managed to hold onto something for himself: music. No matter how busy he was with work, school, or helping around the house, he always found time to write lyrics or create beats on his laptop. I used to sit outside his room and just listen. The sound wasn’t perfect, but it was real. Through music, he processed everything he didn’t always say out loud. It was his way of staying connected to who he was outside of all the responsibility. I remember one night in particular when he let me hear a song he’d written about our family. It was raw, emotional, and honest in a way I hadn’t heard before. He didn’t try to make things sound prettier than they were, but there was still so much love in it. That moment stuck with me. It reminded me that success isn’t always about escaping your situation, sometimes it’s about facing it head-on and finding your voice within it. What makes my brother successful isn’t just his talent or the fact that he’s good at what he does. It’s that he never gave up on being a good brother, a good son, and a good person, even when life made that difficult. He found a way to be there for our family while also carving out something of his own. That balance, that ability to care for others while not losing yourself, is what I admire most about him. He’s not chasing fame or trying to impress anyone. He just wants to make meaningful music and make sure his family is okay. That, to me, is success, living with intention, staying grounded, and using your voice to make an impact, no matter how small it might seem from the outside. My brother may not have a spotlight on him, but in our home, he’s the person we all look up to. He’s proof that success can be quiet, creative, and rooted in love.

My experience with anxiety has had a profound impact on both my personal life and my approach to challenges. Anxiety, for me, was a constant, nagging presence, whether it was the overwhelming pressure of expectations, the fear of failure, or the anxiety of social situations. As a child and young adult, I didn’t have the words to explain what I was going through. I struggled to balance academic performance with an internal world that was often filled with doubts and fears. It wasn’t until later, through therapy and self-reflection, that I truly understood the scope of my anxiety and how to begin managing it. Learning to live with anxiety has been a transformative journey. I’ve come to realize that anxiety isn’t something to fight against but something I must acknowledge and learn to navigate. I’ve developed coping strategies, mindfulness, deep breathing, and cognitive reframing, that have helped me manage my symptoms and function more effectively, especially in stressful academic environments. My experiences with anxiety have made me more self-aware, teaching me to recognize when I need to slow down, ask for help, and prioritize my mental well-being. Importantly, my struggle with anxiety has also shaped my relationships and how I interact with others. Having been through periods where anxiety made me feel isolated and misunderstood, I am more empathetic toward others who may be facing similar challenges. I’ve learned to approach people with more patience and understanding, knowing that everyone has their own battles, some of which may not be visible to others. This sense of empathy is something I carry into every aspect of my life, both personally and academically. Pursuing a college degree is extremely important to me because it represents more than just academic achievement, it is a powerful way to confront my anxiety and build resilience. College offers me a structured environment in which I can push myself to grow, not just intellectually but personally. The challenges and opportunities that come with higher education are exactly the kind of environments where I can develop the skills I need to thrive despite my anxiety. Whether it’s taking on challenging coursework, participating in group projects, or engaging in extracurricular activities, each step I take is a step toward overcoming the barriers that anxiety once created for me. Moreover, I view my degree as a tool for making a positive impact in the world. Having experienced the effects of anxiety firsthand, I am deeply passionate about promoting mental health awareness and creating spaces where people feel safe to talk about their struggles. I want to use my education to advocate for mental health resources and support, particularly in underrepresented communities. Through my degree, I hope to help others who face mental health challenges like I have, and work to break down the stigma that surrounds mental illness. In conclusion, pursuing a college degree is about more than achieving a professional goal for me, it is a journey of personal growth, resilience, and empowerment. It is my way of taking control of my future, using the lessons learned from my struggles with anxiety to build a life that is not defined by fear but driven by purpose and determination.

Mental health has been a significant, often unspoken influence on my life, shaping not only how I understand myself, but also how I relate to others and how I view my future career. Growing up, I didn’t have the words to fully articulate what I was experiencing. Like many people, mental health issues often felt like something to hide, especially in a world that values strength and stability above all. However, as I’ve grown older and pursued my studies, particularly in philosophy and music, I’ve come to see mental health not as something to overcome or dismiss, but as a vital part of the human experience, something that deserves understanding, empathy, and openness. My personal struggles with mental health have made me more attuned to the needs of others. I’ve learned that being vulnerable and open about my own challenges helps break down walls between people. It fosters deeper connections and lets others know they are not alone. This has influenced my relationships significantly. I’m now more willing to ask for help when I need it, and I’m more empathetic toward friends, family, and classmates who may be struggling quietly. I’ve learned that vulnerability doesn’t weaken us; it connects us. Academically, my experiences with mental health have driven me to study fields that offer not just intellectual stimulation, but ways to help others. Philosophy has taught me to question the assumptions we make about the mind, about emotion, and about human resilience. The works of philosophers like Kierkegaard and Camus, who grappled with existential questions of suffering and meaning, resonated deeply with me. Through music, I’ve discovered a unique and powerful form of expression for my emotions. The creative process of composing, performing, or simply listening to music has been therapeutic. Music has the capacity to articulate the complexities of human experience, emotions that words often fail to capture. This combination of philosophy and music has shaped my belief that mental health is not a singular, isolating issue, it’s an experience that ties us together as human beings, and art and thought are some of the best ways to navigate that experience. As for my career aspirations, mental health has played a major role in shaping my desire to give back. I don’t want to just be an artist or an academic, I want to use my work to foster spaces where mental health is prioritized, where people can speak openly about their struggles without shame. Whether through creating accessible art programs, working in education, or pursuing research into the intersection of creativity and mental health, I want to help dismantle the stigma surrounding mental illness. I plan to use both philosophy and music to advocate for greater understanding of mental health, using the transformative power of art to reach people who may not have the words to express what they’re going through. Ultimately, my experiences with mental health have made me more compassionate, driven, and determined to help others feel seen, heard, and understood. The struggles I’ve faced with my own mental health have led me to a place where I want to make a tangible difference in the lives of others, particularly in ways that bridge the gap between the emotional and the intellectual, the creative and the therapeutic. My belief is that through art, conversation, and understanding, we can build a future where mental health is acknowledged and supported, not ignored or dismissed.

As an Armenian, my sense of community has always been shaped by a combination of history, culture, and the sheer force of will to keep traditions alive, no matter what. Armenians have survived everything from ancient invasions to more recent tragedies, and if there's one thing we know how to do, it's persevere, and occasionally, feed people when they need it most. It’s in my DNA. Growing up, my family and community instilled in me a sense of responsibility to preserve our culture and history, but also to adapt and evolve with the changing world. This dual focus on heritage and progress is something I carry with me as I pursue my studies in music and philosophy. Music and philosophy may seem like an unusual combination for someone with a community-centered focus, but I see them as the perfect tools to help me make an impact. Music is a universal language, it can connect, heal, and express what words alone cannot. Philosophy, on the other hand, teaches us to question, to understand the deeper layers of meaning in our actions, and to look critically at the systems around us. Together, these fields provide me with the ability to not only create but to reflect and challenge, to inspire and provoke thought. Growing up in a diasporic Armenian household, I have always been aware of the tension between holding on to traditions and adapting to the contemporary world. This balance is something I believe many communities, particularly immigrant and marginalized communities, constantly navigate. I want to use my education to help bridge that gap, not just for Armenians, but for anyone who feels like their identity exists somewhere between languages, histories, and generations. My goal is to create spaces where people can express themselves freely through art, music, and discussion, while also encouraging them to critically reflect on the world around them. One way I hope to impact my community is by creating accessible programs that provide artistic education and personal development. Art and music should be for everyone, not just for those who can afford private lessons or elite institutions. Through community-based education programs, I want to help young people, particularly those from marginalized backgrounds, tap into their own creative potential and explore their identity through the arts. For the Armenian community specifically, I would love to help young Armenians connect to their cultural roots through music, storytelling, and creative expression, transforming history and trauma into something that can inspire, heal, and unite. Moreover, I want to use my background in philosophy to facilitate open dialogue within my community. Many people, especially younger generations, struggle to reconcile their cultural traditions with the demands of modern life. Philosophy offers tools to critically examine these tensions, explore how identity evolves, and challenge traditional boundaries. I aim to create spaces where people can have these conversations openly, whether in educational settings or informal gatherings, to ensure that individuals feel empowered to shape their identities on their own terms. Ultimately, my education is not just for my personal growth; it’s a stepping stone to creating meaningful change. Through music, philosophy, and community engagement, I hope to build platforms for expression, reflection, and action. My community has given me so much, from resilience to love, and I want to give back by helping others find their voice, explore their heritage, and contribute to a more inclusive and understanding world. If I can do that with a little humor, a lot of heart, and perhaps some homemade dolma along the way, then I’ll know I’ve truly made a difference.

Music has been at the center of my life for as long as I can remember. I began playing the flute when I was eight years old, inspired by a home that was constantly filled with music. My father is a trombone player, and I grew up listening to him practice, surrounded by the sounds of classical pieces, jazz recordings, and live performances on TV. It was natural for me to pick up an instrument of my own, and once I started, I never stopped. Over the years, the flute became much more than just a hobby. It became my voice, my outlet, and my constant companion. In moments when words failed me, music gave me a way to express what I was feeling. This was especially true during my early school years. As a first-generation Armenian-American, I grew up speaking Russian at home. My parents fled Azerbaijan because of ethnic violence, and our home life was shaped by that history of loss, displacement, and resilience. When I began school, I struggled with English and was often teased for my accent. I felt out of place, misunderstood, and isolated. But when I played the flute, I didn’t need words. I could tell stories, release emotion, and feel proud of something that was truly mine. Music gave me confidence. It kept me grounded through academic challenges and personal struggles, and it taught me discipline, patience, and perseverance. It also opened doors to friendships, mentors, and performance opportunities that helped shape my growth as a student and as a person. Playing in ensembles and orchestras taught me how to listen, how to collaborate, and how to contribute to something larger than myself. It was through these experiences that I realized my dream: to become a professional musician and one day perform in a ballet or opera pit orchestra. That dream is not just about performing. It is about creating moments that move people, being part of something meaningful, even if I am not in the spotlight. I want to use my music to connect with others, especially those who feel unheard or unseen, like I once did. I also hope to eventually mentor young musicians, particularly those from immigrant or bilingual backgrounds, to help them see the strength in their stories and their voices. Music has shaped every part of my educational journey so far. It has given me purpose, motivation, and direction, and I know it will continue to be the foundation of my future. My ultimate goal is to make a lasting impact through performance, education, and representation, and to keep music alive as a force of beauty, resilience, and connection.

My name is Anna Kapriyelov, and I’m a first-generation Armenian American. My first language is Russian, and speaking it has been both a core part of my identity and a challenge I’ve had to navigate from a young age. My parents fled Azerbaijan during the war because they were Armenian, and growing up in a household shaped by displacement and survival gave me a strong sense of resilience and cultural pride. At home, we spoke Russian because it was the common language among displaced Armenians in the region. It was how I communicated with my family, heard stories from my parents’ childhoods, and connected to my roots. But when I started school in the U.S., that connection suddenly made me feel different. I had a noticeable accent when I spoke English, and that made me a target for teasing and bullying. I remember classmates mocking the way I pronounced words or asking why I “talked weird.” For a long time, I became quiet in class—not because I had nothing to say, but because I was afraid to speak up. Being bilingual became something I felt I had to hide instead of celebrate. But over time, my perspective shifted. I started to realize that speaking two languages is a strength, not a flaw. It means I can think in two ways, understand two cultures, and connect with people across different backgrounds. Russian connects me to my family, my culture, and my history—it’s a living part of who I am. And English has become the language in which I’ve built my future, found my passions, and expressed myself in ways I couldn’t before. Today, I see bilingualism as a bridge, not a barrier. I want to use my experience to help others who feel caught between cultures, especially children of immigrants who are struggling with identity and belonging. I understand what it feels like to be split between two worlds—and I’ve learned that you don’t have to choose one over the other. You can belong to both. This scholarship would help me continue my education and pursue a future where I can represent people like me—those whose voices may have once been silenced or overlooked. I’m proud of where I come from, and I’m proud to speak more than one language. My own experience of feeling caught between two cultures and languages has given me a unique perspective that I want to share with others. I also aspire to help others who struggle with the same challenges I faced when I first arrived in the U.S.—feeling isolated or misunderstood because of language. I would love to work in education or social services, helping other bilingual individuals navigate the challenges of language barriers while embracing their cultural identity. Whether through tutoring, mentorship, or community outreach, I want to show others that being bilingual is something to be proud of. I want to help them see that language isn’t just something you speak—it’s a powerful tool that can connect people, broaden horizons, and open doors to new opportunities. Ultimately, I believe that embracing both my Armenian heritage and my American identity has made me a stronger, more empathetic person. I have learned to value both cultures and the lessons they offer, and I am excited to take those lessons with me as I move forward in life. This scholarship will allow me to continue my educational journey and equip me with the tools to make a lasting, positive impact on the world.

I believe that music is one of the most powerful forces in the world—it connects people across differences, expresses what words cannot, and heals in ways nothing else can. Since I was eight years old, playing the flute has been my way of understanding the world and sharing my voice with it. Growing up in a home filled with music—thanks to my dad, a trombone player—taught me early on that music isn’t just sound; it’s emotion, memory, and connection. Now, as I look toward building a career in music, I’m deeply motivated not only to perform, but to use my art to make a meaningful impact on others. My dream is to become a professional flutist in a ballet or opera pit orchestra. There's something magical about creating music that supports a larger story—playing in a way that elevates movement, emotion, and drama from behind the scenes. It’s a role that requires discipline, empathy, and deep attention to detail—all qualities I strive to cultivate in my life and musicianship. But beyond the stage, I know my role as a musician doesn’t end when the performance does. I want to use my music to create access, inspiration, and healing. One of my goals is to advocate for music education in schools, especially in communities where funding and resources are limited. I know from experience how much music can shape a young person’s confidence and sense of purpose—it gave me both. I want to give back by mentoring students, performing in schools and community spaces, and helping the next generation find their voice through music. I also believe music can be a form of emotional support. Whether it’s a calm melody that helps someone through a tough moment or a live performance that brings a room together, music has a way of touching people when they need it most. I want to be the kind of artist whose work reminds people that beauty still exists in the world, even when things feel uncertain. Through performance, outreach, and education, I hope to make music not just something people hear—but something they feel, something that stays with them. That’s how I plan to make a positive impact: by using my art not just to entertain, but to uplift, connect, and empower others.

Music has always been part of my life—woven into my earliest memories and shaping the person I am today. I picked up the flute when I was eight years old, and from the moment I played my first few notes, I knew that music would become a lifelong passion. What began as a curious interest quickly grew into something much deeper: a source of joy, discipline, expression, and purpose. My love for music was sparked at home. My dad is a trombone player, and our house was constantly filled with music—whether it was the warm sound of his horn during practice, jazz records on the weekends, or symphonic pieces playing quietly in the background. That environment made music feel not only natural but necessary. I grew up seeing music as both a form of communication and an emotional outlet. Watching my dad’s relationship with music inspired me to build my own, and the flute became my voice. Learning the flute has taught me more than how to play an instrument—it’s shaped the way I live and work. It has taught me focus, patience, and the importance of persistence. I’ve learned to listen—to myself, to others, and to the details that matter most. I’ve performed in school bands, youth orchestras, and community ensembles, and every opportunity has strengthened my love for the collaborative nature of music. Whether I’m playing solo or blending into an ensemble, I’ve experienced the magic of creating something that resonates beyond the notes. As I look to the future, my dream is to play in a professional pit orchestra for an opera or ballet. I’ve always been captivated by the way music supports the drama, emotion, and storytelling on stage. There is something powerful about being behind the scenes, helping to bring an entire production to life through music. I want to be part of that experience—not for recognition, but to contribute to something that moves people, sometimes in ways they can’t explain. Beyond performance, I envision making a positive impact through music by helping ensure it remains accessible to future generations. I’ve seen firsthand how music education changes lives—it certainly changed mine. I hope to give back by mentoring young musicians, performing in community outreach concerts, and advocating for music programs in schools, especially in underfunded areas. I believe that every child deserves the chance to discover their creative voice, just as I did. Music has helped me through difficult times, built my confidence, and given me a dream to pursue. It’s more than just sound—it’s connection, healing, and hope. With this scholarship, I’ll be one step closer to turning my dream into a reality, and I’m committed to using that opportunity not only to grow as a musician, but to uplift others along the way.

Music has always been part of my life—woven into my earliest memories and shaping the person I am today. I picked up the flute when I was eight years old, and from the moment I played my first few notes, I knew that music would become a lifelong passion. What began as a curious interest quickly grew into something much deeper: a source of joy, discipline, expression, and purpose. My love for music was sparked at home. My dad is a trombone player, and music was always in the air—literally. Whether it was jazz echoing from the speakers, classical records spinning in the living room, or the sound of him warming up his horn, music filled our house and became a kind of soundtrack to my childhood. Watching him practice, perform, and lose himself in music made a lasting impression on me. I saw what it meant to live with passion and creativity, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Learning the flute has given me more than technical skills—it has taught me discipline, patience, and resilience. I’ve spent countless hours practicing, working through challenging pieces, and striving to improve. Music has taught me how to be present, how to listen carefully, and how to express emotions I couldn’t put into words. It’s a part of who I am, and over the years, my commitment to it has only grown stronger. Performing has been one of the most rewarding parts of my musical journey. From school bands to youth orchestras to local ensembles, I’ve had the privilege of making music with others and contributing to something greater than myself. There is nothing quite like the shared energy of a performance—the silent communication between musicians, the emotional response of the audience, the magic of sound coming to life. As I look toward the future, my dream is to play professionally in a pit orchestra for an opera or ballet. I’ve always been fascinated by the way music supports and enhances storytelling in these settings—how it can evoke emotion, build tension, and bring entire worlds to life. Being part of that kind of ensemble, tucked below the stage yet integral to every moment above it, would be a dream come true. I want to dedicate my life to that craft and to being part of something that moves people so deeply. This scholarship would help me continue my education and bring me one step closer to that dream. Music has shaped my identity, my goals, and my values. It has changed my life—and I know that, through music, I can help change the lives of others too.

Music has always been a part of my life—woven into my earliest memories and shaping the person I am today. I picked up the flute when I was eight years old, and from the moment I played my first few notes, I knew that music would become a lifelong passion. What began as a curious interest quickly grew into something much deeper: a source of joy, discipline, expression, and purpose. My love for music didn’t come out of nowhere—it runs in my family. My dad is a trombone player, and our home was always filled with music, whether it was jazz playing in the background, recordings of symphonies, or just him practicing downstairs. I grew up watching him pour his heart into his playing, and I saw how music wasn’t just something he did—it was part of who he was. That inspired me. I wanted to have that same relationship with music—not just as a hobby, but as something meaningful and lasting. Learning the flute has taught me far more than just how to read notes or perform pieces. It has taught me perseverance, focus, and patience. There were times when I struggled to master difficult passages or felt frustrated with my progress, but I kept going because I loved it. Over the years, I’ve had the chance to play in school bands, orchestras, and community ensembles, each of which has deepened my appreciation for music and given me valuable experiences working with others. Whether playing a solo or contributing to a group performance, I’ve felt the magic that comes when music brings people together. Music has also given me an outlet for emotional expression. When words fall short, my flute becomes my voice. Playing allows me to process complex feelings and escape from daily stress, and it reminds me that even in hard times, beauty and creativity are always within reach. Most importantly, music has given me a dream—to become a professional musician. It’s a goal I’ve held onto for as long as I can remember. I want to keep performing, growing, and sharing music with others. I hope to inspire people the way my dad inspired me, and to use my music to bring joy, comfort, and connection to others. This scholarship would bring me one step closer to achieving that dream. Music has changed my life in every way—and I know it will continue to shape my future.

Mental health has played a defying role in who I am, both through personal experiences and through supporting those close to me. Navigating anxiety and periods of depression has taught me the value of self-awareness, resilience, and empathy. These experiences have shifted my core beliefs, I no longer see vulnerability as a weakness, but rather a strength. I have come to believe that open conversations about mental health can heal and unite communities. For much of my early life, I struggled to understand the emotions I was feeling. Anxiety was a constant undercurrent, and it often went unnoticed by those around me because I worked hard to appear “fine.” Like many people, I learned to hide my discomfort behind achievements and a busy schedule. It wasn’t until I reached a breaking point—when the emotional weight I carried began to affect my physical health, relationships, and academic focus—that I began to seek help. That moment of vulnerability, though terrifying at the time, turned out to be one of the most important decisions I ever made. hrough therapy and intentional self-reflection, I learned how to manage my anxiety and better understand my emotions. I discovered the importance of setting boundaries, practicing mindfulness, and speaking openly about what I was experiencing. Most importantly, I realized I was not alone—so many people, regardless of background, struggle silently with their mental health. This realization profoundly shifted my beliefs: I began to see mental health not as an individual struggle, but as a shared human experience that requires compassion, dialogue, and systemic support. My personal growth in this area has also changed the way I relate to others. I became someone my friends could turn to—not for advice necessarily, but for understanding and empathy. I learned how to listen without judgment, how to recognize when someone might need support even if they aren't saying it outright, and how to show up consistently in meaningful ways. These lessons have strengthened my relationships and helped me become a more emotionally present and supportive person. These experiences have had a powerful influence on my career aspirations. Initially, I saw myself pursuing a career that focused solely on achievement and stability. Now, I’m drawn to work that allows me to support others and advocate for change. I’m especially interested in mental health education, counseling, or public health—fields where I can contribute to breaking the stigma around mental illness and work to make mental health resources more accessible. I believe that mental health care should not be a luxury or an afterthought; it should be an essential part of our educational, medical, and social systems. This scholarship represents more than just financial assistance—it is a step toward a future where I can use my experiences to help others heal, grow, and find hope. I am committed to continuing my education so that I can contribute meaningfully to a world that recognizes the importance of mental well-being. My journey with mental health has not always been easy, but it has given me purpose. It has taught me that healing is possible, connection is powerful, and that even in the face of struggle, there is strength and hope.