My name is Ariya Reed, and since childhood, I’ve had one unchanging desire: to be remembered as someone who moved people. Born and raised in Nevada as the sixth child of eight, with really only my mother to rely on, I grew up watching her carry the weight of our family and extended relatives, often sacrificing her own comfort to help others. This shaped me to become a person with compassion but also formed boundaries within me. My admiration for her kindness and strength was there, but those qualities meant we didn’t have enough for many things—especially my love for dance. We didn’t have the money for studio classes or training, so I tucked that dream away. For years, I focused on academics and helping where I could at home, not knowing what I wanted to do with my future. But in my freshman year, a dream opportunity sparked happiness inside me: our school was forming a dance team! Despite having no formal experience, I auditioned, and to my surprise, I made the varsity team. That moment shifted the course of my entire life. Under the guidance of an overly demanding and passionate coach, I developed discipline, resilience, and leadership. Practices were rigorous, expectations high, and mistakes hardly overlooked. But I never gave up. I transformed from an unsure, shy freshman into a confident performer and student, representing my school at parades, state tournaments, and public events. I juggled schoolwork, rehearsals, performances, and travel, often pushing myself beyond limits I thought I had. In doing so, I learned how to be a reliable individual my younger peers could look up to. Even as I danced, I knew one could only dance for so long. I began thinking deeper about my future. I started researching mental health, and what I found were many startling facts—but one that upset me most was that young people between 10 and 20 have some of the highest rates of self-harm and emotional distress. I looked at my friends and family and realized how many were struggling with no one to tell. The more I researched, the more it transformed from statistics and numbers on a website into my peers, teammates, siblings—people I cared about who either now or at one point didn’t have someone they could trust or confide in. Many of them, like me, have lived through hardship without being able or knowing how to speak on it. This discovery, along with my desire to help, pushed me to the realization of what I want to do with my life. I want to become a therapist for youth. I want to be a steady presence for young people navigating trauma, identity, stress, and uncertainty. I want to be someone they trust when they feel unheard or unseen. I almost lost one of my best friends because they felt like they had no one. It was scary and painful. I need to become someone people can turn to when they don’t know whether they’ll have their loved ones by tomorrow, or if they want to survive through another day. This scholarship would help ease the financial burdens that continue to follow my family and me. College is an exciting but hard step, especially knowing how much pressure my mother already carries. With your support, I can continue my education without adding to that weight. Instead, I can focus fully on becoming successful and take a load off my family’s back. I am driven not only by my past, but by the future I want to create for myself and my family.