For most of my life, the idea of a “pie in the sky” dream felt distant, almost unrealistic. I did not grow up believing that big dreams were meant for people like me. As a low-income, first-generation Hispanic student and the middle of five children, my focus was often on surviving, helping my family, and figuring things out one step at a time. For a long time, I did not know what my future looked like. That changed when my health did. In 2020, I became seriously ill, and my life quickly filled with doctors’ appointments, lab tests, and long stretches of waiting for answers. I remember the anxiety of sitting in exam rooms, hoping the next test would finally explain what was happening to my body. Living with chronic illness forced me to slow down and confront uncertainty in a way I never had before. While I did not receive every answer I was searching for, I gained clarity about something just as important: my purpose. My “pie in the sky” dream is my career. I want to become a medical laboratory scientist and spend my life helping uncover the answers that patients are waiting for. During my years as a patient, I learned that nearly every medical decision begins in the lab. Behind every diagnosis, treatment plan, or moment of relief is a lab professional who ran the test, analyzed the data, and delivered the result. I never met those people, but their work shaped my care and helped me regain stability. That realization changed everything for me. What feels inspiring, and just out of reach, is the idea that one day I will be on the other side of that experience. I will be the person generating results that bring clarity instead of confusion, direction instead of fear. I want to know that even if patients never see my face or know my name, my work mattered in their lives. Getting there requires patience, discipline, and resilience. My path is not simple. I plan to earn an Associate of Applied Science in Medical Laboratory Technology, work as a laboratory technician, and then return to school to earn a Bachelor of Science so I can become a medical laboratory scientist. Along the way, I will need to balance financial responsibility, academic rigor, and personal health. I will need to continue asking for help, trusting myself, and pushing forward even when the goal feels far away. What gives me confidence is everything I have already overcome. My health journey taught me endurance. My background taught me perseverance. My love for science gives me motivation. This dream may feel just out of reach, but it is no longer unimaginable. It is something I am actively working toward, step by step, with intention and purpose. My “pie in the sky” is not fame or recognition. It is a life spent helping others find answers, stability, and hope. And I believe that with courage, commitment, and growth, I will get there.

In 2020, my life became measured in lab appointments, blood draws, and the quiet anxiety that comes from waiting for answers. I spent years sitting in hospital rooms, listening to doctors explain test results that often raised more questions than they answered. Living with chronic illness taught me patience, resilience, and how deeply medicine impacts not just the body, but an entire life. Although my medical journey did not provide every explanation I hoped for, it gave me clarity about who I am and what I want to do with my future. I am a low-income, Hispanic, first-generation college student and the middle of five children. Growing up, my family worked hard to provide for one another, and I learned early on the value of perseverance and responsibility. Higher education was not something I grew up assuming would be easy or guaranteed. For a long time, I felt unsure of what my path would look like, even though I knew I loved science and wanted a career where I could help others in a meaningful way. As a patient, I became deeply aware of how much of medicine happens behind the scenes. Every appointment depended on lab results; numbers, values, and data that told a story about what was happening inside my body. While I knew my doctors by name, I never met the people who ran those tests, yet their work shaped every step of my care. That realization changed everything for me. I understood that I could contribute to medicine in a powerful way without being directly patient-facing. Discovering medical laboratory science felt like finally finding where I belonged. For the first time, I felt truly called to a profession. The area of medicine I am most passionate about is diagnostic laboratory science, particularly disease detection and monitoring. Having lived through years of uncertainty, I know how much relief even partial answers can provide. A single lab result can confirm a diagnosis, guide treatment, or help someone regain a sense of control over their health. I want to be part of that process—the person who helps turn confusion into clarity for someone else. I will be attending Shawnee State University to pursue an Associate of Applied Science in Medical Laboratory Technology. After completing my degree, I plan to work as a medical laboratory technician to gain experience and deepen my understanding of the field. My long-term goal is to return to school and earn a Bachelor of Science so I can become a medical laboratory scientist. This path represents more than academic achievement to me; it represents purpose, stability, and the opportunity to give back through the skills I develop. Illness can be isolating and overwhelming, and I know firsthand how it can alter every aspect of a person’s life. My experiences have shaped my compassion, determination, and commitment to medicine. Through a career in medical laboratory science, I hope to provide answers to others who are searching for them. Even if patients never know my name, I will know that my work mattered. That is what inspires me to pursue this career with everything I have.

Painful symptoms, countless doctors appointments, and hours riddled with anxiety and "What ifs?" All lead up to the same moment - a patient sitting in their doctor's office waiting to hear lab results - waiting for answers that will explain it all. They will hear those answers from their doctor, know their face and name, but they will not know the person who found the answers that can potentially save their life. Medical lab science, the technicians and scientists in that field are the people who work - day in and day out- to run tests, produce results, and provide diagnostics, to thousands of patients on a weekly basis. All while the patient may not even have a clue as to who found out why they are sick. This is the field I want to go into. I want my career to make a difference, but I know face to face patient care is not for me. So when I found out about medical lab science, for the first time I knew what it meant to be called to do something. To me, working in a medical lab means providing life saving results to patients every single day. One hour I may find out a patient has been suffering from diabetes unknowingly, and the next provide early detection for cancer so someone can be treated in time. This career field means a lot to me. In 2020 I got very sick, and for the next four years I spent hours upon hours of my life and thousands of dollars at the hospital. In that time I had endless lab tests ran, and more vials of blood taken than I can count. Even though that journey isn't technically over - and at the "end" of it all I don't have very many answers as to why, due to the nature of the autoimmune system, but I do know the what. Furthermore, I can manage my symptoms and the seemingly endless cycle of "What is this?" has stopped. Illness is a burden for many people. It can break hearts, tear apart families, and send an entire life into a halt. I know this personally. Through my career though, I know I will help someone somewhere every single hour of every single shift, regardless of whether or not they even have a clue of my existence. And to me, that means more than anything.

Growing up in a low-income household, I often watched from the sidelines as my classmates joined after-school clubs, played sports, and explored interests I couldn't afford to pursue. My family struggled to make ends meet, so after-school activities were considered a luxury. That all changed in the fifth grade when I transferred to a new school and was offered the opportunity to join the science club. I had begged my parents to let me join, and finally they did after having to pay the fees. Though I was nervous at first, joining that club would become a pivotal moment in shaping my interest in science and setting me on a path toward a future in STEM. At the time, I was the new kid. It was my first year at a new school, and I barely knew anyone. I remember walking into the first science club meeting with sweaty palms and a stomach full of nerves. I didn’t know what to expect. But as the weeks passed, the club became a space where I felt seen and included. We worked on small science projects, built crafts, and shared ideas. Each meeting helped chip away at the anxiety I felt, and I slowly began to form friendships. It was the first time I felt connected to both my peers and to learning outside the classroom. The moment that truly solidified my passion for science came toward the end of the school year. During one of our final meetings, a guest presenter visited the club. He brought a wind chamber to demonstrate how tornadoes form and behave. I watched in awe as swirling air and vapor came together to form a miniature twister inside the chamber. Seeing the science behind something as powerful as a tornado unfold in front of me was mesmerizing. I was fascinated not only by the demonstration itself but also by the presenter’s ability to explain complex ideas in a way that made them feel approachable and exciting. For the first time, I saw science not just as something we studied in textbooks, but as something alive and tangible. That afternoon changed everything for me. I began to ask more questions, explore science topics on my own, and look forward to opportunities to learn more. Even after the club ended for the year, my curiosity didn’t. I knew I wanted to pursue science—not just as a subject in school, but as a future career. Science club wasn’t just an extracurricular activity; it was a turning point. It gave me confidence, community, and a sense of direction at a time when I needed it most. Coming from a background where opportunities were limited, this experience opened a door I hadn’t known existed. It showed me that with access and encouragement, someone like me could not only participate in STEM but thrive in it. Today, I carry that same sense of wonder and determination with me. The experience I had in fifth grade planted the seed for my interest in STEM, and it has continued to grow ever since.

I grew up in south central Ohio, a place where poverty was not an abstract concept but a daily reality. My childhood was filled with barefoot summers, running alongside my siblings through patchy grass and gravel, picking honeysuckle to taste the brief sweetness hidden in its blossoms. We would gather wildflowers—many of them weeds—and present them as gifts to each other. My family lived constantly on the edge of having enough, never really crossing into comfort. We made frequent trips to food pantries, stretched meals with creativity, and learned early what it meant to go without. I am a first-generation college student, the first in my family to navigate the confusing and often overwhelming world of higher education. The road here has not been smooth. As soon as I turned fifteen—the legal age to work—I took on a job. My first paycheck didn’t go toward something fun or frivolous. It went to necessities: clothes, school supplies, exam fees, and even food and shampoo. From that point forward, I became responsible for my own financial needs. If I needed something, I had to work for it. There was no safety net, and no other option. High school only made the gap between my reality and others' more visible. My school sat at the intersection of two very different worlds. On one hand, there were students like me, whose families struggled to get by. On the other, there were classmates who never worried about bills, whose homes were warm, spacious, and clean, where dinner was always ready and everything seemed effortless. I remember feeling the sting of envy when I saw the lives my friends lived. But I made a choice early on: to use that feeling as motivation, not resentment. I didn’t want to stay angry or bitter; I wanted to rise. Even in the midst of financial stress and emotional hardship, I found joy and purpose in science. The classroom became a place of possibility. Science classes, especially biology and chemistry, were where I felt most at home. While everything in my personal life was unpredictable, science offered clarity. Rules, patterns, systems—things that could be understood, explained, and built upon. It amazed me how molecules interacted, how cells functioned, how life itself was a web of complex yet elegant processes. Through science, I found both beauty and belonging. This is what led me to pursue biochemistry. It wasn’t just a subject I enjoyed—it was a doorway into a future where I could contribute something meaningful to the world. Biochemistry combines the foundational aspects of biology and chemistry with real-world applications. It allows us to understand diseases at a molecular level, to formulate life-saving medicines, and to build vaccines that protect entire populations. I want to be part of that work. I plan to become a certified lab scientist and, eventually, pursue graduate school. My dream is to join research efforts that directly impact human health—to work on solutions that heal, protect, and uplift. What makes me most passionate about biochemistry is its potential to serve. I've lived a life where access to basic healthcare and even over-the-counter medicine sometimes felt out of reach. I know what it’s like to go without, to rely on public programs or community resources. That perspective gives me a deep appreciation for what science can do—not just in theory, but in practice. I want to contribute to research that makes medicine more effective, accessible, and affordable. I want to be part of the generation of scientists that brings healing to people like the ones I grew up with. Overcoming financial adversity has shaped more than just my work ethic—it has shaped my values, my ambition, and my empathy. I know what it means to struggle, to persevere, and to keep going when quitting would be easier. These experiences have given me resilience and a deep desire to build a life not just for myself, but in service of others. My background has not held me back; it has pushed me forward. Being a first-generation college student is more than just a title—it means I am forging a new path, not only for myself, but for my family and for the community I represent. It means that I bring a unique perspective to science, one grounded in real-world challenges and inspired by a vision of equity and healing. I may have started my journey picking wildflowers and running barefoot, but I am heading toward a future where I work in a lab, helping to create cures, protect communities, and inspire the next generation of students who come from places like mine. In the end, my story is not just about hardship—it’s about hope. It’s about what happens when determination meets opportunity. And it’s about using the past not as an anchor, but as fuel. I carry my roots with pride, and I bring them with me into every lecture, every lab, and eventually, into the research that I hope will change lives.

"And, lo! my infancy died long since, and I live. But Thou, Lord, who for ever livest, and in whom nothing dies: for before the foundation of the worlds, and before all that can be called "before," Thou art, and art God and Lord of all which Thou hast created: in Thee abide, fixed for ever, the first causes of all things unabiding; and of all things changeable, the springs abide in Thee unchangeable: and in Thee live the eternal reasons of all things unreasoning and temporal. Say, Lord, to me, Thy suppliant; say, all-pitying, to me, Thy pitiable one; say, did my infancy succeed another age of mine that died before it? was it that which I spent within my mother's womb? for of that I have heard somewhat, and have myself seen women with child? and what before that life again, O God my joy, was I any where or any body? For this have I none to tell me, neither father nor mother, nor experience of others, nor mine own memory. Dost Thou mock me for asking this, and bid me praise Thee and acknowledge Thee, for that I do know?" - The Confessions of Saint Augustine In the selected passage from The Confessions of Saint Augustine, Augustine asks a deep and difficult question: what was I before I was born? This question leads him into a reflection not just on his own past, but on the nature of God. He does not provide an answer. Instead, he uses the moment to explore the limits of human memory and the greatness of God. What stands out most in this passage is how Augustine’s sentence structure reflects his feelings of awe, humility, and devotion. Whenever he mentions God, he doesn’t just use a name—he adds phrases that describe who God is and what God is like. Through this, his grammar becomes a form of worship. Highlighting his conversion to Christianity at the time of writing. In this way, the mystery of life before birth isn’t something he tries to solve—it becomes a reason to admire and honor God. Right at the start of the passage, Augustine says, “And, lo! my infancy died long since, and I live. But Thou, Lord, who for ever livest, and in whom nothing dies…” The contrast is striking. Augustine says that his infancy has died—he has changed, grown, and forgotten—but God lives forever and never changes. This is not just a philosophical idea. The way the sentence is built shows Augustine’s emotional tone. After saying “But Thou, Lord,” he adds two phrases—“who for ever livest,” and “in whom nothing dies.” He could have just said “But you, Lord,” and moved on. However, he pauses and adds details that describe God’s eternal, unchanging nature. These kinds of additions appear throughout the passage. They show that Augustine is not just thinking about God, he is worshiping through his words. Another example comes shortly after, when he says, “Before the foundation of the worlds, and before all that can be called ‘before,’ Thou art.” Here, Augustine pushes the limits of language. He’s trying to describe a time before time, and he does it by repeating and stretching the word “before.” The sentence feels like it’s reaching for something just out of grasp. This repetition is important—it shows that Augustine’s mind is trying to reach God, but human words are not enough. The structure of the sentence becomes an expression of his desire to understand and his recognition that some things are beyond human understanding. What makes this passage especially powerful is how Augustine’s sentence structure mirrors his inner emotional state. His questions are full of longing and uncertainty: “Say, Lord, to me, Thy suppliant; say, all-pitying, to me, Thy pitiable one…” Here, he again adds phrases that describe both himself and God. He calls himself “Thy suppliant” and “Thy pitiable one,” and he calls God “all-pitying.” These phrases aren’t necessary for the basic meaning of the sentence, but they show his humble attitude and his deep need for God’s mercy. His language becomes prayer. Even his uncertainty becomes a way to express trust. Augustine also uses imagery and literary devices to express expansive ideas. For instance, he writes, “In Thee live the eternal reasons of all things unreasoning and temporal.” This line contrasts two types of things: the eternal and reasonable (God’s wisdom) and the unreasoning and temporary (everything in the world, including human beings). He pictures all things, even fleeting and irrational things, being held together in God. It’s an abstract image, but a powerful one. The contrast helps us see how different God is from creation, and how everything depends on Him. Throughout the passage, Augustine keeps returning to the fact that he doesn’t know what came before his birth. He even asks, “Was it that which I spent within my mother’s womb?” and “What before that life again…was I anywhere or anybody?” These are not just philosophical questions. They are deeply personal. And Augustine admits that no one—“neither father nor mother, nor experience of others, nor mine own memory”—can give him the answer. Still, he doesn’t become frustrated. Instead, he turns again to God. In the final line, he asks, “Dost Thou mock me for asking this, and bid me praise Thee and acknowledge Thee, for that I do know?” This question sounds playful, even tender. He imagines God saying, in effect, “You don’t need to know that. Just praise Me for what you do know.” The fact that God might “mock” him is not threatening. It’s part of a loving relationship, where God guides him gently away from what he cannot know toward what truly matters. In this way, the mystery of life before birth becomes a reason for faith, not doubt. Augustine doesn’t see his ignorance as a failure. Instead, he turns it into worship. The very structure of his sentences. Full of added phrases about God, long questions, and repetitions—reflects his deep emotional connection to the Lord. His grammar becomes theology. His uncertainty becomes prayer. In conclusion, Augustine’s way of writing in this passage tells us just as much as the content itself. By layering descriptions of God into his sentences, using repetition and paradox, and filling his questions with humility and longing, he shows that not knowing is a part of faith. The mystery of life before birth becomes not a problem to be solved, but an invitation to adore the One who knows all things. For Augustine, every question leads back to God—and every sentence, no matter how confused or uncertain, becomes a kind of praise.

My biggest, most absolute, dream in life is to earn a college degree and use that education to contribute to science in a way that helps underserved and low-income communities—people just like me, and just like those in my hometown. I want to be a voice in the scientific community, not just to make discoveries in a lab, but to ensure that those discoveries reach the people who need them most. I was born and raised in Chillicothe, Ohio—a place full of natural beauty, rich history, and some of the most resilient people I’ve ever met. Chillicothe was Ohio’s first capital, and though it may not be a major city today, its story is rooted in strength and significance. But even with all its charm and community pride, it’s also a town that has felt the sharp sting of economic hardship. The biggest blow came with the announcement of the closure of the town’s long-time employer and mascot, the Mead Paper Plant. For decades, the Mead provided reliable jobs and a sense of stability to families throughout Chillicothe. But when it was announced it would shut down, it left a hole that many have struggled to fill. My heart fills with anxiety as I write this, and think about the near 800 people who will soon be left without a stable income. I’ve seen firsthand what happens when opportunity disappears—when families are forced to stretch a dollar further than it can go, when young people have to choose work over education, and when dreams get put on hold just to survive. I come from one of those families. I’ve supported myself financially since I was fifteen, and every dollar I’ve earned has gone toward essentials—food, bills, and now tuition. College was never a given for someone like me; it was a risk I had to fight for. But even with the long work hours and financial stress, I never stopped believing that education could be my way out—and my way forward. My plan to achieve my dream begins with completing my degree in biochemistry. I chose this path because science fascinates me, but also because it gives me a toolset I can use to make real change. I want to work in biomedical research or public health, focusing on creating affordable treatments and increasing healthcare access in underserved areas like Chillicothe. I want to be part of the solution to the problems that have affected my family, my neighbors, and my community for generations. To get there, I’m doing everything I can. I take on summer classes, seek tutoring when needed, and work long hours to pay for tuition and medical bills. But it’s more than just getting by—I’m working toward something bigger than myself. I want to be the first in my family to graduate college, and I want to use that milestone to prove what’s possible, especially to my younger sister and others like her. My dream isn’t just about personal success. It’s about lifting up others who share my story—people from towns like Chillicothe who deserve to dream big too. With determination, education, and community at my back, I believe I can not only achieve my dream but help others realize theirs as well.

My journey as a STEM student has been shaped by persistence, sacrifice, and a deep belief in the power of education to transform lives—not just my own, but those of others like me. I am currently pursuing a degree in biochemistry, a field that inspires me with its complexity and its potential to solve real-world problems in health and medicine. However, the path to a professional program in STEM, especially one that leads to research or graduate study, is not easy—particularly when you consider the weight of tuition looming over your head. For as long as I can remember, poverty has been a constant presence in my life. I began supporting myself financially at age fifteen, juggling school and work to keep the lights on and food on the table. Even now, I work full-time to pay for tuition, medical bills, and living expenses. There is little room in my budget for anything beyond survival, and that includes the costs associated with advancing in STEM—application fees, exam registrations, and study materials. All of which come from my own pocket. The pressure of managing these financial barriers often forces students like me to make impossible choices. Do I register for more classes or buy groceries? Do I pay for tutoring, or cover my medical bills? These are not hypothetical questions—I’ve faced them, and I know I will face more. The cost of preparing for and applying to programs in STEM is daunting. Without financial support, I risk being unable to take crucial steps that others with more resources might take for granted. Receiving this scholarship would not just be financial assistance—it would be a lifeline. It would allow me to focus more fully on my academic and professional goals without constantly worrying about how I’ll afford the next hurdle. It would mean I could register for the exams I need, purchase study materials, and submit applications to programs that align with my ambitions, instead of limiting myself to only what I can afford. It would grant me the peace of mind to focus on excelling in my courses, conducting meaningful research, and preparing for my future in science. My long-term goal is to contribute to biomedical research, with a focus on improving access to healthcare and treatment in underserved communities. I want to work on developing affordable diagnostic tools and therapies for conditions that disproportionately affect low-income populations. This goal is deeply personal—not only because of my own struggles accessing medical care, but also because I have watched my family members suffer due to a lack of resources. Just as I have benefited from the guidance and generosity of others, I fully intend to give back. I want to mentor young women and first-generation students pursuing careers in STEM, especially those from underprivileged backgrounds. I want to create outreach programs that demystify science and help students from low-income communities access the tools, knowledge, and support they need to thrive in the field. I believe that success is not just about achieving your own goals—it’s about making the path a little easier for the ones who come after you. This scholarship would bring me one step closer to a future where I not only achieve my dreams, but also uplift others as they pursue theirs. It would lighten the load I carry every day and give me the chance to fully realize my potential in the field of biochemistry and beyond.

My name is Arrowyn. I don’t often feel very special—just someone trying to make it through each day. Burnout and exhaustion are constant companions, and sometimes, simply making it back to bed at night feels like an accomplishment. But despite everything, there’s one force in my life that drives me to push through every hardship and every setback. With my whole soul, my whole mind, and my whole body, I most desperately want to earn a college degree. I am deeply connected to many of the world’s issues—how could I not be, living in an intersectional world full of injustice? But for me, poverty stands above the rest. I have lived my entire life on the edge of financial desperation. There was never quite enough food, never clothes that fit for school, never the money for a doctor’s visit. Since I was 15, I’ve supported myself financially. I got through it—I sacrificed my childhood to survive. But what breaks me now is watching my little sister walk the same painful path. No one should have to grow up that fast. If I had the power and the platform, I would work to relieve others from financial oppression. We could reform the tax system to ensure the wealthiest pay their fair share, while strengthening social services like healthcare, childcare, and food pantries. I would fight to eliminate food deserts and make education truly accessible to everyone, regardless of zip code or income level. My journey to choosing my area of study, biochemistry, was unexpected and even a little humorous. I started my first year of college through an online program studying business. It wasn’t passion that guided that decision, it was necessity. I was working full-time to cover medical bills and tuition, and the online program was the most affordable option. But I never truly connected with the material. Then, an assignment asked me to create a LinkedIn profile, and while browsing careers, I had a revelation—I hated business. It wasn’t me. I was meant for science, for academia, for challenge. So, I took the leap, switched my major, and prepared myself to take on even higher tuition. My one vision for the next five years is crystal clear; I want to walk across a stage and receive my college diploma. I will get there through relentless dedication—to my education and to myself. I’ve already put in the late-night hours, enrolled in summer classes, sought tutoring, and done every bit of extra credit I could find. I’ll continue doing all of it, because I want to become the first person in my family to graduate from college. This goal has shaped not only my values, but my entire mission as a young adult. It has opened my eyes to the complexity of the world, helped me understand the systems that shaped my life, and expanded my vision for what’s possible. I truly believe that education is a key—one that opens doors, breaks generational cycles, and creates real change. My identity as a woman is deeply important to me. I’m painfully aware of the sexism and misogyny that still saturate our society. But in my womanhood and femininity, I’ve also discovered the strength of sisterhood and the beauty of female friendships. No one can take that away from me. And though the world may try to use my identity against me, I know I am strong—and I know they will fail. To me, leadership means resilience. I’ve had to push through challenges most people don’t see—working full-time while trying to graduate high school, managing countless medical visits, and facing financial strain that included buying my own car at 18. I stumbled, I made mistakes, but I made it through. And now that I’m a little older and wiser, I’m turning around to guide others, especially my younger sister, as she enters her senior year and prepares for college. I'm showing her that there's a path forward, and that she doesn’t have to walk it alone. If I were awarded this scholarship, it would be more than financial support—it would be one more step forward on my journey. As I’ve shared, I grew up, and still live, in poverty. The constant pressure of bills, tuition, and survival weighs heavily on me. Receiving a scholarship like this would lift that weight, even just a little, and bring me closer to my dream: finishing my degree and creating a better life for myself and for those I love.

“God is not, like creatures, made up of parts. God is spirit, without bodily dimensions. Firstly, no body can cause change without itself being changed. Secondly, things with dimensions are potential of division. But the starting-point for all existence must be wholly real and not potential in any way: though things that get realized begin as potential, preceding them is the source of their realization which must already be real. Thirdly, living bodies are superior to other bodies; and what makes a body living is not the dimensions which make it a body (for then everything with dimensions would be living), but something more excellent like a soul. The most excellent existent of all then cannot be a body. So when the scriptures ascribe dimensions to God they are using spatial extension to symbolize the extent of God's power; just as they ascribe bodily organs to God as metaphors for their functions, and postures like sitting or standing to symbolize authority or strength.” ― Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae: A Concise Translation In the passage from Summa Theologiae provided, Thomas Aquinas articulates a foundational aspect of his theology: the immateriality and transcendence of God in contrast to the physical and mutable nature of creatures. Aquinas argues that God cannot be understood as a body or as a being with parts, dimensions, or changeable characteristics. Instead, God is pure spirit, and any references in scripture to His physicality should be understood as symbolic. In making this argument, Aquinas draws on a series of metaphysical claims about change, divisibility, and the nature of living beings to demonstrate that God's nature must be fundamentally different from that of created beings. This essay explores Aquinas’ reasoning and how his views on God’s immaterial nature challenge common conceptions of divinity, while also examining the implications of metaphorical language in religious texts. Aquinas begins by emphasizing that "God is not, like creatures, made up of parts," suggesting that God’s nature is wholly unlike that of any creature. This claim speaks to the essential difference between God and created beings. Creatures, being physical entities, are made up of parts, and are divisible and subject to change. In contrast, God is "spirit, without bodily dimensions." Aquinas highlights that God is immaterial, beyond the limits of physicality that creature are limited to. This is crucial because it points to a core theological concept: God is not bound by the same physical constraints that apply to creatures. The immateriality of God aligns with Aquinas’ larger argument about God’s perfection. A being that is wholly real, complete, and indivisible cannot be subject to the limitations of bodily form, as bodies are inherently divided and mutable. The second key argument in the passage is grounded in the idea that "no body can cause change without itself being changed." For Aquinas, physical bodies are by nature mutable and changeable. Any body that causes change must also undergo some transformation, because change is a characteristic of physical matter. This is not true of God, who is immutable and cannot change in any way. For change to occur, there must be something already actual and complete. Since God is the ultimate source of all existence and change, He must be wholly real and not potential. Aquinas makes a clear distinction between beings that are potential and those that are actual, positing that God's existence is fully actualized and independent of any potentiality. This underscores the immutability and self-sufficiency of God, a theme that runs throughout Aquinas' theology. Furthermore, Aquinas argues that "things with dimensions are potential of division," suggesting that anything with measurable physical dimensions is inherently divisible. For Aquinas, the very nature of physical existence involves some potential for division or fragmentation. However, the "starting point for all existence must be wholly real and not potential in any way." God, as the source of all that exists, must be entirely actualized and indivisible. The idea here is that divisibility is a limitation; any being that could be divided would not be fully real, but only partially actualized. Since God is the ultimate, indivisible being, He must exist outside the realm of physical dimension, where fragmentation and potentiality are possible. The passage also touches on Aquinas' distinction between living and non-living bodies. He writes that "living bodies are superior to other bodies," yet the distinguishing feature of a living body is not its physical dimensions, but the presence of something more fundamental, a soul. The soul, according to Aquinas, is the principle of life, and its presence makes a body living. This idea reinforces the argument that God, being the most excellent existent of all, cannot be a body. Bodies are inferior to souls because they are made up of physical matter and are subject to change. The soul, however, is immaterial and gives life to the body. Aquinas uses this distinction to emphasize that the most perfect being—God—must be immaterial, transcending both physical bodies and the limitations associated with them. The final part of the passage addresses how scripture uses physical attributes to describe God. Aquinas acknowledges that the scriptures sometimes ascribe bodily characteristics to God, such as dimensions, organs, or postures like sitting or standing. However, he argues that these descriptions are metaphorical rather than literal. Aquinas suggests that these physical representations in scripture are symbolic of God's power and authority, not indications that God has a body. The use of bodily organs or postures in the scriptures serves to express divine functions in terms that humans can understand. Aquinas highlights the use of metaphorical language to bridge the gap between human conceptions of physical reality and the transcendence of God. In summary, Aquinas argues that God, as pure spirit, is fundamentally different from all created beings. Through his metaphysical claims about change, divisibility, and the nature of living bodies, Aquinas demonstrates that God cannot be a physical body, as bodies are mutable and divisible. Instead, God is wholly actual, indivisible, and immaterial. The metaphorical use of physical language in scripture, Aquinas asserts, is meant to symbolize divine attributes, such as power and authority, and not to suggest that God possesses a physical form. This passage reveals a critical aspect of Aquinas' theological framework, where God is understood as transcending the limitations of the physical world and existing as the perfect, unchanging source of all reality.

My primary goal for the future is to build a successful career that allows me to provide for my future family in a way that my own family could not. I want to create a stable, loving home where financial struggles are no longer a barrier to happiness. I know that achieving this will require dedication, hard work, and perseverance, and I am committed to doing whatever it takes to get there. Since I was 15 years old, I’ve worked tirelessly to support myself. I’ve always believed that if I wanted something, I had to earn it. I started with part-time jobs to cover my personal needs - like clothes, school supplies, and other essentials. These early experiences taught me the value of hard work and independence. At 19, when my Ford Fusion broke down and I needed a reliable way to get to school and work, I took the initiative to save up enough money to buy my own car. The freedom it provided allowed me to continue working and pursue my education without interruption. Currently, I work full-time to avoid accumulating student loan debt and to pay for my tuition. Juggling work and school is challenging, but it is essential for my future. I know that the sacrifices I make now will pay off later. While many of my peers have had the luxury of focusing solely on school, I’ve had to balance the demands of work and academics. Sometimes, this means long hours and little time for rest, but I view these challenges as opportunities to prove my resilience. Each hour I work brings me closer to my goal of a debt-free education and a stable career. The hardships I’ve faced throughout my life have not been easy. I have often gone without, sacrificing personal wants and sometimes even needs, in order to meet the financial demands of my situation. I’ve watched many of my peers go through life without these worries, but I’ve never let that discourage me. Instead, I’ve used it as motivation to work harder and strive for better. The road to a better life has been long and difficult, but every obstacle has only strengthened my resolve. As I continue my education, I know there will be more challenges ahead, but I’m prepared to face them head-on. I am driven by the dream of creating a better life for myself and my family—one where we are never held back by financial struggles. No matter what life throws at me, I will continue to push forward, working toward a future where I can provide for my loved ones and build the life I’ve always dreamed of.

As a first-generation Puerto Rican student, my Hispanic heritage has played an integral role in shaping how I see the world. Growing up in a mostly white town, I quickly learned what it meant to be different. I faced racism and discrimination from a young age, but instead of letting these experiences define me, they became a source of resilience and strength. My background has instilled in me a profound sense of pride, work ethic, and an unwavering commitment to family. These values have shaped not only how I see the world but also how I approach every challenge and opportunity in life. From the age of 15, I have been financially independent, working full-time to support my personal needs while balancing the demands of school. This responsibility has taught me the importance of hard work and perseverance, values that are deeply embedded in my Puerto Rican roots. In my family, hard work is not just a means to an end; it is a way of life. My parents, though they didn’t have the opportunities they wanted, always showed me the importance of striving for a better future and working towards your goals. Their sacrifices and dedication have motivated me to pursue my education despite financial challenges. Growing up as a minority in a predominantly white community was not without its difficulties. I often felt like an outsider, and I was made to feel different because of my ethnicity. However, rather than retreating into shame, my heritage has taught me to be proud of who I am and where I come from. In Puerto Rican culture, there is a deep sense of joy and celebration, even in the face of adversity. This joy has been a constant source of strength throughout my life. I learned from my family that no matter the barriers others put in our way, our culture and the support of our loved ones will always give us a sense of belonging and pride. Today, as I continue to work towards my educational goals, I carry the lessons of my heritage with me. I am motivated by the knowledge that my family, who has supported me every step of the way, is cheering me on. My heritage has shaped the way I see the world—with optimism, perseverance, and an unshakable belief in the importance of community. It has taught me that, no matter where I come from, I can create a future grounded in the same hard work, joy, and family that have always been at the heart of my Puerto Rican roots.

Education is not only a way to expand one's knowledge; education empowers people, opens the door to opportunities, and lifts us up to face and navigate the challenges of the world. As a first-generation Hispanic student, I've grown to understand the transformative role education plays in shaping my future and providing me the skills to succeed. Firstly, I understand the tremendous role education plays in opportunities. Growing up in a family where higher education was not the norm, I witnessed firsthand how access to education can affect the doors that open when it comes to careers, professional networks, personal growth, and goal achievement. By pursuing my own studies, I am able to build a future that would not have been possible otherwise. Education allows me to dream and take steps towards achieving those dreams, whether that means gaining qualifications or creating connections. In addition to providing opportunities, education helps me adapt to change. The world around us is constantly evolving, and the skills learned in school prepare me to keep up with those changes. Whether it's mastering new technology, staying informed about global events, or developing critical thinking skills, education equips me with the tools to face challenges head-on and find innovative solutions. This adaptability is vital not only in my career but also in navigating the complex world in which we live. As a first-generation student, education holds a special place in my heart. It represents not only personal growth but also the realization of dreams that were once out of reach for my family. Pursuing higher education allows me to build a better future for myself, my family, and my community. It is a way for me to break generational barriers and prove that hard work, determination, and education can lead to success. Furthermore, achieving a higher education would fulfill a life-long dream of being able to say I succeed in something many others in my family have dreamed of succeeding in, but have yet been able to. In conclusion, education is the key to unlocking opportunities, adapting to change, and forging a brighter future. As a first-generation student, it has provided me with invaluable tools and a sense of purpose that drives me forward every day. Education has brought value to my life in ways that extend beyond academics, and I am committed to continuing my journey, knowing it will shape the future I strive to build.