Jack Terry’s story deeply inspires me. His life reminds me that even in the face of unimaginable adversity, growth and purpose are still possible. Surviving three concentration camps and coming to a new country without language or formal education, Jack didn’t just survive—he thrived. He pushed forward, built a life of service, and gave back to the world. That kind of resilience moves me, especially because I’ve spent a long time doubting my own ability to succeed. Growing up financially disadvantaged, I often felt like I started at a disadvantage compared to my peers. On top of that, I struggled in school for years. For the longest time, I truly believed I wasn’t capable of academic success. I thought something about learning came harder to me than it did for everyone else, so I stopped trying. The idea of excelling felt out of reach, and I convinced myself I wasn’t meant for success, especially in STEM fields where the expectations felt impossibly high—and even more so as a woman. But stories like Jack Terry’s have helped me reframe my thinking. They remind me that the most powerful barriers are often the ones we create in our own minds. Over the past two years, I’ve slowly begun to realize that I am capable—more than I ever gave myself credit for. I began putting in the effort, not just because I wanted good grades, but because I wanted to see what I could do if I actually believed in myself. The transformation has been remarkable. I went from a 2.9 GPA to a 3.76, and I’ll be graduating with high honors. I now lead several student organizations, including our Women in STEM club, Robotics club, and our Charity and Outreach club. I've discovered that I thrive when I'm lifting others up and creating community in spaces where students—especially girls—often feel overlooked. A huge part of my drive comes from something deeply personal: when I was three years old, my father passed away from cancer. At that age, I didn’t understand what was happening—only that he was gone. As I’ve grown older, I’ve become more emotionally aware of how much that loss has shaped me. Science has been the only thing that has offered me concrete answers. It’s helped me understand what happened to him and allowed me to feel closer to him by learning the biology and complexity of the disease that took him away. Now, I plan to pursue a career in oncology. I want to help families who are going through what mine did. I want to be part of the fight to find better treatments and more hope. Like Jack Terry, I want to turn my own pain and past into something that serves others. I want to help people see that it’s never too late to discover your own strength.

When I was three years old, my dad passed away from cancer; small cell carcinoma. At that age, I couldn’t understand what had happened—I just knew that he was gone, and that everyone around me seemed to hurt in a way I couldn’t fully grasp. Growing up without him became my reality, but I didn’t start to feel the full weight of his absence until I became more emotionally mature and self-aware. As I got older, I began noticing the spaces where he should have been—at birthdays, milestones, school events. I saw how friends interacted with their fathers and felt a quiet kind of longing. For a long time, I didn’t have the words to describe what I was feeling. It wasn’t just grief—it was curiosity, too. Curiosity about who he was, what he believed in, and what exactly took him from us. That curiosity eventually turned toward science. It was the only place I could go that offered answers—or at least the promise of them. While grief is messy and unpredictable, science gave me structure and clarity. It allowed me to ask hard questions: What exactly is cancer? Why does it happen? How could something so small—just a group of cells—wreak so much havoc? Learning about oncology, biology, and medicine has helped me understand my dad’s death in a way I never thought possible. It gave me a language for my grief. And oddly enough, it brought me closer to him. Even though he’s gone, understanding the disease that took him makes me feel more connected to his story—not just as someone who was lost, but as a person who lived and fought something real. This journey has inspired me to pursue a career in healthcare, specifically in oncology or cancer research. I want to be part of the work that gives families more time, more hope, and more answers. I want to help others navigate the pain I know too well—but with better tools and more support than we had. I’m passionate about equity in healthcare and hope to serve underserved communities, making science and medicine more accessible to those who need it most. This scholarship would not just help me afford my education—it would help me continue a mission born from personal loss and transformed into purpose. I hope to spend my life helping others, driven by both compassion and curiosity, and honoring my dad in the process.

"Love Ya Sweety Always and Forever" A sloppily painted saying on the stomach of the porcelain care bear my dad made years ago. I have few memories of my dad because he was taken from me so long ago, but I do have these painted little porcelain projects he made—imperfect, colorful, and full of love. That bear sits quietly on my shelf, chipped in places, its pastel colors faded over time. Still, it holds more meaning than anything else I own. It’s more than a craft—it's a preserved moment, a captured fragment of the way he loved us. That tiny figurine reminds me that love doesn’t vanish with time. It lives in the things we leave behind, in the memories we shape for others, and in the way we choose to live and love fully, even in the face of loss. My favorite thing about my dad was how intentional he was in loving us. Whether it was through goofy bedtime songs, tight bear hugs that lifted me off the ground, or simply sitting with us and painting even as his health declined—he always found ways to make us feel safe, seen, and important. He gave us all he could, even when cancer was taking so much from him. His passing was like losing the sun in the middle of a day that never ended. Grief has followed me everywhere—quietly into classrooms, holidays, milestones—but so has his love. And in a strange way, the grief has taught me something: that I want to live a life that’s preservable. I want to do things that matter, that last. I want to create the kind of love, kindness, and impact that lingers, even after I’m gone. Losing my dad has made me more intentional, more compassionate, and more aware of how fleeting time is. But it’s also made me brave. Brave enough to try, to grow, to keep going even when the weight of loss feels heavy. I want to build a life that someone might remember with warmth, just like I remember him. This scholarship would not only help me pursue my education—it would be a continuation of my dad’s legacy. It would honor his belief in doing things with love and purpose, and it would carry forward the lessons he left me: that love is preservable, and so are we, in the lives we touch and the stories we leave behind.

I lost my dad the day before my third birthday. And, while initially that may sound like one of the best-case scenarios for these kinds of situations, it was far from it. Because I had to grow up never truly knowing the man who apparently either would've sacrificed everything for me, or sacrificed me—I'll never quite know, and I'll never have my own perspective, only the broken puzzle pieces of the people who once knew him. Losing my dad was hard. It was something I genuinely didn't get to grasp until I was much older because all I understood was that one day my dad had left for good. I didn't know why, or if I'd done something wrong to cause it. I just knew he was gone. Thus, began the deep-rooted commitment and abandonment issues. Throughout my entire life, leading to this moment, I've struggled with connecting with people, letting them in, and holding them close. This has affected my mental health constantly, my social life, and even my academics in situations where, had I been open to people, I would have been able to succeed. On a personal level, the absence of my dad shaped my emotional world in ways I couldn’t fully comprehend until I was much older. I carried around a quiet feeling of rejection, as if I wasn't enough for him to stay. This led me to close myself off emotionally, not wanting to risk feeling abandoned again. The mental health impact was significant; I dealt with feelings of loneliness, inadequacy, and self-doubt, never fully understanding why I had a hard time trusting people or allowing myself to be vulnerable. These feelings, which I now recognize as stemming from my father’s absence, made it difficult for me to form meaningful relationships as a teenager and even into adulthood. Academically, my emotional struggles seeped into my performance. Because I found it difficult to trust others, I often avoided group work or opportunities to seek help from teachers and classmates. This isolation hindered my growth in areas where collaboration and support were essential. I wasn’t able to tap into the full resources available to me, as I kept to myself instead of leaning on others. I now realize how different my academic journey might have been had I been able to ask for help when I needed it or open up about my struggles with others. Despite the natural intelligence I had, my emotional baggage prevented me from excelling in a way that felt fulfilling, and I often settled for less than I could achieve. Financially, the impact of losing my dad created additional stress for my family. With one parent missing, we faced financial instability that my mom worked tirelessly to manage. As a child, I didn't fully understand the weight of this, but looking back, I see the financial strain it placed on my mom and how it shaped my attitude toward money. I became hyper-aware of the costs of living, the importance of saving, and the need to contribute. Growing up in this environment made me determined to never put myself in a position where I would struggle financially. This sense of responsibility pushed me to pursue a career that would offer financial security, even though at times I felt uncertain about the paths I should take. Ultimately, the loss of my father didn’t just shape my challenges; it has also shaped my resilience. It has taught me to adapt, to seek support, and to find strength in vulnerability.

As a white girl in the "Bible Belt" of Arkansas, I'm no stranger to perceiving what the African American population has to face, especially in systematic oppression. Law enforcement and prejudices are rooted in centuries of hate and conflict.Centuries of discrimination, slavery, segregation, and the institutionalized racism embedded in laws have shaped the interactions between law enforcement and African American communities. These tensions cannot be unraveled with a quick fix or a sudden shift in policy. The fact of the matter is that the solution is not one of ease; it is a long-term commitment that requires continuous adaptation and new perspectives. To remove hundreds of years of misconception embedded in the legal system, law enforcement must approach this issue with sustained efforts and a willingness to evolve, keeping in mind the importance of reshaping future generations' relationship with the law. The solution lies not in one-time reforms or superficial gestures but in a profound, continuous process of growth and understanding. Law enforcement agencies must first acknowledge the historical injustices that have shaped the African American experience with policing. This means understanding that the mistrust and fear felt by many African Americans is not the result of isolated incidents, but the cumulative impact of decades—if not centuries—of systemic bias. Law enforcement must engage in self-reflection and recognize that these long-standing issues are deep-rooted, requiring a commitment to changing both attitudes and actions. One critical approach to improving these relationships is to build trust through consistent community engagement and transparency. Many African Americans feel that law enforcement has historically failed to hold officers accountable for misconduct. The result is a lack of trust that further strains the relationship between police and the community. To address this, there must be increased accountability within police departments, including the implementation of independent oversight bodies. These bodies should be comprised of community members who can hold law enforcement accountable, ensuring that misconduct is not overlooked or excused. When transparency becomes the norm, and officers are held accountable for their actions, it creates the foundation for rebuilding trust. However, the solution must also be rooted in community collaboration. Law enforcement cannot work in isolation. The African American community must be actively involved in reform efforts, participating in dialogues and working alongside police departments to address the root causes of mistrust. Public forums, town halls, and partnerships with local organizations and leaders are essential for facilitating mutual understanding. When both sides collaborate, it creates space for open communication and fosters an environment where trust can gradually be restored. Lastly, the future of these relationships depends on the children of tomorrow. To truly change the narrative, we must ensure that young people—particularly children of color—grow up with a different understanding of law enforcement. The goal is to ensure that they see the law not as an oppressive force, but as a system that is there to protect and serve all people, regardless of race. By implementing educational programs in schools, fostering positive interactions with officers, and creating spaces for youth to speak out about their experiences, we can give the next generation the tools to build safer, more respectful relationships with law enforcement. In conclusion, improving the relationship between law enforcement and the African American community is not a problem that can be solved overnight. It requires consistent efforts, deep introspection, and sustained change. We cannot simply expect a quick fix or for the issue to resolve itself with one reform, and only then can we begin to heal the wounds of the past and build a more just society for the generations to come.

A colleague to my left and right work together to help stabilize my hand, because this moment in time is the most important of my career. I could be testing the next medically defining cure in oncology with brilliant minds working with me. And I can have the opportunity to come home to a family, come home to a comfortable home, and feel the comfort of the city light buzz while I prepare for the next day of discovery. When I close my eyes, this is how I picture my success. One where I am given the opportunity to help impact the medical system through innovation and collaboration. One where I can still fairly treasure those around me, and live a life of stability and comfort all at once. Perhaps to some, an unlikely combination of every common dream we share, but for me, a girl who spent the bigger bulk of her life daydreaming and never acting, I refuse to settle for anything less than. I know that success, at least the kind I envision, doesn’t come easily. It's more than greed or envy, but rather the desire to be the absolute best version of myself with all the opportunities I've been blessed with. It's the desire to not be 100% of who I am, but 200% of who I can be, which is often something people never get to experience. It takes grit, perseverance, and the willingness to continuously push forward, even when the odds seem stacked against you. This opportunity — this chance to be part of something greater than myself — is the next step in the journey I’ve been preparing for. It isn’t just about working with brilliant minds or contributing to the development of groundbreaking solutions; it’s about aligning myself with a purpose I feel deep within my core. The ability to collaborate with others, know that I am working towards a cause that has taken my father and generations of others away from me, and innovate in the field of healthcare is the key to unlocking the success I strive for. This opportunity will give me the tools to make that vision a reality. It will help me not only to hone my skills but also to build the relationships necessary for success — relationships that are founded on mutual respect, shared goals, and a common drive to make a meaningful difference in the world. I am eager to be in an environment where I am constantly learning, evolving, and contributing in ways that truly matter. I believe that the path to success is not one traveled alone, but with a team of like-minded individuals who are working toward a common goal. What excites me most about this opportunity is the potential to be involved in something that could have a lasting impact on people's lives. The chance to work on the cutting edge of medical research and contribute to the development of solutions that could save lives or improve the quality of life for so many is something I can’t take lightly. The work I do today has the potential to shape the future of healthcare, and I want to be part of that transformation. Every small step I take within this opportunity will be a step closer to the success I envision — success not just for me, but for the countless individuals whose lives will be bettered by the work I am fortunate enough to contribute to. Success, for me, is about more than just the outcome. It’s about the journey, the challenges, the growth, and the sense of fulfillment that comes from knowing that what I am doing matters. It’s about finding that delicate balance between professional success and personal happiness. I want to make a difference in the world, but I also want to enjoy the moments that matter most — the quiet evenings at home, the laughter of loved ones, the joy of knowing I am living a life aligned with my values. This opportunity will help me achieve success not only by providing me with the platform to contribute to groundbreaking work but also by allowing me to build a life where I can experience fulfillment on all fronts. The chance to be part of something larger than myself, while still maintaining the connections and comforts that keep me grounded, is the type of success I’ve always dreamed of. And now, I am ready to take action to turn those dreams into reality.

Throughout my life, I’ve faced the harsh reality of losing loved ones to cancer. The first loss occurred when I was just three years old, as I lost my father to this relentless disease. This early tragedy was followed by the death of my grandpa when I was five, my step-grandpa when I was eleven, and my grandma when I was fourteen. More recently, my aunt was diagnosed with cancer, adding another layer of pain to my life. Cancer has not just taken people from me, but it has continually burdened me with the fear that more loved ones may be lost. This series of losses has profoundly shaped my perspective on life, pushing me to find ways to take back control of my future. The weight of cancer’s impact on my family has been hard to put into words. At times, it feels like it is a constant force trying to steal the people I love from me. Yet, rather than succumbing to this overwhelming sense of helplessness, I’ve learned to channel my grief into something positive. I’ve come to realize that my life’s purpose is not just to mourn these losses but to make a difference. Cancer has inspired me to pursue a career in biochemistry, with a focus on oncology. I am determined to learn how cancer works at the molecular level and to contribute to the search for new treatments and ultimately, cures. However, being a first-generation college student presents challenges that I often feel are insurmountable. My father never graduated high school, and I have had no college-educated mentors to help guide me through the educational system. Financial obstacles have been a constant concern, and the path to higher education often feels out of reach. Yet, despite these challenges, I remain undeterred. I know that education is the key to breaking cycles, and I am committed to creating a better future for myself and my community. I plan to major in biochemistry with the goal of studying oncology. The knowledge I hope to gain from my education will allow me to contribute to groundbreaking research in cancer treatment and prevention. I want to give back to my community by using the tools I acquire to fight against the disease that has taken so much from me. My passion is not only to improve the lives of others but also to inspire those who face similar hardships to believe in the power of education and perseverance. This scholarship would not only help me financially, but it would also serve as a reminder that despite the many obstacles I face, there are people who believe in the potential of first-generation students like myself. It would give me the opportunity to continue my education and ultimately make a meaningful impact on the world. Through my personal experiences with loss, I’ve learned that the fight against cancer is not just about medical research; it’s about resilience, hope, and using every setback as a springboard for progress. My journey is just beginning, and I am determined to use my education to honor the memory of my loved ones and give others the hope that they, too, can overcome their challenges and make a difference in the world.

Six days before I turned 16, I was in the hospital, not celebrating my upcoming birthday or planning for the milestones that come with growing up. Instead, I was lying in a hospital bed with nurses rushing around me. I had just attempted to take my own life. I was in a dark place, overwhelmed by feelings of loneliness, confusion, and despair. At that time, I didn’t feel like I had any purpose, and I couldn't imagine a future worth living for. Yet, in the midst of my pain, I encountered something that would ultimately change my life — my faith. During my time in the hospital, I felt a deep, spiritual pull that I couldn't quite explain. It was as if God was reaching out to me, reminding me that my life had value and meaning. I began to pray, despite not fully understanding what I was praying for, other than hope for a way out of my emotional turmoil. It was in that moment that I made the conscious decision to turn to God and let my faith guide me through the pain. Since then, my relationship with God has been the foundation of my recovery. I became more involved in my church community, attending services, participating in youth group activities, and surrounding myself with others who shared my Christian faith. I began to truly understand that my worth is not defined by the mistakes I had made or the struggles I had faced, but by the love and grace that God offers freely to each of us. In the months and years that followed, I realized that my journey wasn’t just about finding peace for myself, but also about using the strength I found in my faith to help others who were struggling. I’ve always been passionate about service, but after my experience, my desire to make a difference in the lives of others became even stronger. I began volunteering at my church’s food pantry, helping to distribute food to those in need. Through these small acts of kindness, I not only helped others but also felt the profound impact of faith in action. Additionally, I became a peer mentor for other students struggling with mental health issues. I shared my own story, not as someone who had all the answers, but as someone who had walked through darkness and found the light of God. I listened to their struggles, prayed with them, and encouraged them to never lose hope, reminding them that no matter how difficult life may seem, they are never alone. Through these experiences, I have learned that sometimes, just being present for someone and offering a listening ear can make all the difference. My faith has not only healed me but has equipped me to help others. It has shown me that no matter how broken or lost we may feel, we are all worthy of love and care, and we have the power to make a difference in the lives of those around us. I am committed to using my faith to serve others, continuing the work I’ve started, and making the world a better place, one person at a time.

In June of 2021, I lost my Nana, and it was a loss that reshaped the course of my life. Unlike many other family losses I had faced like my father's when I was little, this one struck with a depth I hadn’t experienced before. I had lost some, but those relationships had often been distant, and I hadn’t formed the kind of bond that could leave an aching void. Losing my Nana, though, was different. I had always been close to her, and the thought of losing someone I loved so deeply left me reeling. When I first heard that Nana had cancer, I didn’t take it seriously. She had survived so many close calls with death before that it seemed impossible to believe that this time it could be the end. But my mom took it seriously, and we drove sixteen hours to Michigan to see her. By the time we were halfway there, we received the devastating news that Nana’s condition had worsened. I remember sitting alone in a bedroom, crying in quiet disbelief. I hesitated to be with her in her final hours, unsure of how to say goodbye. It wasn’t until my mom came to me and encouraged me to spend time with Nana that I realized how precious the moments were. I sat beside her, held her hand, and told her I loved her. She responded, as only she could, saying, "I love you too. Always have, always will." The next day, she passed away. This loss, while heartbreaking, pushed me to reevaluate my priorities and goals. Nana’s passing reminded me of the fragility of life, and how easily time can slip away. It was an emotional wake-up call, forcing me to confront the reality that life is short and uncertain. While grieving, I knew I had to continue pushing forward with my goals, just as Nana would have wanted. Her memory became a source of motivation — I could no longer afford to take time for granted. Every decision I made, whether big or small, became an opportunity to honor her legacy and continue striving toward my future. The impact of losing Nana was profound, and it changed the way I approach my studies and goals. Despite the overwhelming sadness and the temptation to retreat, I pushed myself to stay focused on my academic and personal ambitions. I learned to appreciate the little things more — the small victories, the quiet moments of peace, and the time I get to spend with the people I care about. Nana’s death taught me that it’s not just the grand accomplishments that matter, but the everyday moments we often overlook. In the aftermath of my Nana’s passing, I found myself more determined than ever to continue my education and pursue my future with resilience. The loss made me more aware of the challenges life can throw our way, but it also made me more determined to rise above those challenges. I carried her memory with me through every difficult moment, using her strength and love as a guide to help me stay focused on my goals. Though she is no longer with me physically, Nana’s spirit remains a constant part of my life. The lessons she taught me — to live fully, to appreciate every moment, and to pursue my dreams with tenacity — continue to shape my path. As I move forward in my academic journey and beyond, I am committed to honoring her memory by embracing life with purpose and determination, no matter the obstacles that may arise.

We are led through life with more questions than answers. Like a cancer cell rapidly multiplying and spreading, the potential for growth in science and leadership has no boundaries. Just as the fight against cancer requires the collaboration of brilliant minds, innovative treatments, and committed researchers, the future of science relies on leaders who can unite these forces and drive progress. As a high school senior passionate about oncology and biochemistry, I see myself at the intersection of these two forces: conducting research that can transform healthcare, while also taking on leadership roles that inspire others to contribute to this important work. The discovery of life-saving treatments is not a single person’s task; it’s a collective effort. My passion for oncology began after seeing close family members affected by cancer, which fueled my desire to pursue a career that could make a real difference. I was particularly drawn to biochemistry because it provides the tools to understand diseases at their most fundamental level, particularly cancer, which can be traced to changes in cellular processes. My goal is to contribute to research that develops new treatments or even preventive therapies, giving hope to millions affected by the disease. However, the advancement of science, especially in a field as critical as oncology, does not happen in isolation. It takes independent thinkers to pose questions that challenge the status quo and critical thinkers to solve complex problems. Throughout high school, I have demonstrated these qualities by engaging in scientific research and independent projects that required me to think critically and question established methods. In my biology class, I led a project examining how different environmental factors might influence the mutation rates in cells, posing an alternative hypothesis that had not been previously considered. This required me to think creatively, develop an experimental design, and analyze results rigorously. It’s this kind of independent, critical thinking that I want to carry forward into my college studies and future research career. Moreover, leadership plays a central role in making these advancements possible. In addition to my academic work, I have taken on leadership roles in various school clubs, including as president of the Science Club and as a team leader for a community outreach project aimed at promoting health education. Through these experiences, I’ve learned that leadership is not just about giving direction; it’s about motivating others, collaborating, and creating an environment where everyone can contribute their ideas and talents. I am a firm believer that the best scientific advancements are made when people from diverse backgrounds and areas of expertise come together. As I move forward in my education, I aspire to be a leader who fosters such collaborations in the scientific community, ensuring that research is not only groundbreaking but also widely accessible and impactful. In conclusion, the future of oncology and biochemistry relies not only on groundbreaking scientific research but also on the leadership to carry these discoveries forward. My passion for understanding cancer, combined with my independent and critical thinking skills, positions me to contribute to significant advancements in these fields. With the help of this scholarship, I am determined to continue developing both as a scientist and a leader, making a tangible impact on the future of healthcare and cancer treatment.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve all the world’s problems in the span of an easy-to-digest 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all of the off-putting microaggressive character types, I’ve only ever noticed one constant in these characters—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or even Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, you had the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to 'the pretty one' Daphne Blake, but it always seemed that the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky about the situation taking place. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three years old profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine and the human body. This early tragedy sparked a passion in me to understand how diseases work and, ultimately, how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses such as AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand the intricacies of life, health, and healing. This is when I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery doesn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I have developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in the field of STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I have taken on a profound leadership role, guiding my teammates and ensuring we work together to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas effectively, and collaborate with others—skills that are essential for a future in science. Additionally, witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs has motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events within my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite the financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also help spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further my exploration of oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to contribute to the creation of a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly those of women, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about the rest of my life—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve all the world’s problems in the span of an easy-to-digest 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all of the off-putting microaggressive character types, I’ve only ever noticed one constant in these characters—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or even Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, you had the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to 'the pretty one' Daphne Blake, but it always seemed that the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky about the situation taking place. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three years old profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine and the human body. This early tragedy sparked a passion in me to understand how diseases work and, ultimately, how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses such as AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand the intricacies of life, health, and healing. This is when I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery doesn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I have developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in the field of STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I have taken on a profound leadership role, guiding my teammates and ensuring we work together to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas effectively, and collaborate with others—skills that are essential for a future in science. Additionally, witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs has motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events within my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite the financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also help spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further my exploration of oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to contribute to the creation of a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly those of women, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about the rest of my life—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve all the world’s problems in the span of an easy-to-digest 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all of the off-putting microaggressive character types, I’ve only ever noticed one constant in these characters—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or even Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, you had the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to 'the pretty one' Daphne Blake, but it always seemed that the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky about the situation taking place. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three years old profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine and the human body. This early tragedy sparked a passion in me to understand how diseases work and, ultimately, how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses such as AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand the intricacies of life, health, and healing. This is when I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery doesn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I have developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in the field of STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I have taken on a profound leadership role, guiding my teammates and ensuring we work together to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas effectively, and collaborate with others—skills that are essential for a future in science. Additionally, witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs has motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events within my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite the financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also help spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further my exploration of oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to contribute to the creation of a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly those of women, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about the rest of my life—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve all the world’s problems in the span of an easy-to-digest 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all of the off-putting microaggressive character types, I’ve only ever noticed one constant in these characters—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or even Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, you had the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to 'the pretty one' Daphne Blake, but it always seemed that the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky about the situation taking place. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three years old profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine and the human body. This early tragedy sparked a passion in me to understand how diseases work and, ultimately, how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses such as AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand the intricacies of life, health, and healing. This is when I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery doesn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I have developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in the field of STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I have taken on a profound leadership role, guiding my teammates and ensuring we work together to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas effectively, and collaborate with others—skills that are essential for a future in science. Additionally, witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs has motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events within my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite the financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also help spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further my exploration of oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to contribute to the creation of a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly those of women, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about the rest of my life—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve all the world’s problems in the span of an easy-to-digest 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all of the off-putting microaggressive character types, I’ve only ever noticed one constant in these characters—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or even Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, you had the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to 'the pretty one' Daphne Blake, but it always seemed that the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky about the situation taking place. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three years old profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine and the human body. This early tragedy sparked a passion in me to understand how diseases work and, ultimately, how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses such as AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand the intricacies of life, health, and healing. This is when I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery doesn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I have developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in the field of STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I have taken on a profound leadership role, guiding my teammates and ensuring we work together to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas effectively, and collaborate with others—skills that are essential for a future in science. Additionally, witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs has motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events within my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite the financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also help spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further my exploration of oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to contribute to the creation of a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly those of women, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about the rest of my life—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve all the world’s problems in the span of an easy-to-digest 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all of the off-putting microaggressive character types, I’ve only ever noticed one constant in these characters—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or even Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, you had the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to 'the pretty one' Daphne Blake, but it always seemed that the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky about the situation taking place. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three years old profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine and the human body. This early tragedy sparked a passion in me to understand how diseases work and, ultimately, how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses such as AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand the intricacies of life, health, and healing. This is when I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery doesn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I have developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in the field of STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I have taken on a profound leadership role, guiding my teammates and ensuring we work together to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas effectively, and collaborate with others—skills that are essential for a future in science. Additionally, witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs has motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events within my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite the financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also help spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further my exploration of oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to contribute to the creation of a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly those of women, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about the rest of my life—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve all the world’s problems in the span of an easy-to-digest 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all of the off-putting microaggressive character types, I’ve only ever noticed one constant in these characters—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or even Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, you had the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to 'the pretty one' Daphne Blake, but it always seemed that the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky about the situation taking place. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three years old profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine and the human body. This early tragedy sparked a passion in me to understand how diseases work and, ultimately, how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses such as AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand the intricacies of life, health, and healing. This is when I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery doesn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I have developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in the field of STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I have taken on a profound leadership role, guiding my teammates and ensuring we work together to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas effectively, and collaborate with others—skills that are essential for a future in science. Additionally, witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs has motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events within my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite the financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also help spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further my exploration of oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to contribute to the creation of a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly those of women, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about the rest of my life—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve the world’s problems in 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all the microaggressive character types, I’ve noticed one constant—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, there was the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to Daphne Blake, but the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine. This early tragedy sparked a passion to understand how diseases work and how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses like AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand life, health, and healing. I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery didn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I’ve developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I’ve taken on a leadership role, guiding my teammates to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas, and collaborate with others—skills essential for a future in science. Witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events through my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further explore oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to help create a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly women’s, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about my future—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

The beaker’s substance bubbles over as the ‘brainiac’ is either about to discover the next big miracle or cause a lab to explode. Except, it’s definitely the latter because he combined an especially heavy alkali metal with water... We've all seen it before: a niche, overused side character who can solve all the world’s problems in the span of an easy-to-digest 26 seconds. But, oddly, through all of the off-putting microaggressive character types, I’ve only ever noticed one constant in these characters—whether it’s Professor Utonium, Ravi Ross, or even Dr. Doofenshmirtz. They were men. Sure, you had the occasional Velma Dinkley, the 'smart' counterpart to 'the pretty one' Daphne Blake, but it always seemed that the most consistent characters were strong, naturally charismatic men, while the girls were confused and finicky about the situation taking place. That was when I realized I wanted to do what these characters were doing—but in a "girl" kind of way. From a young age, science has been an essential part of my life. The loss of my father to small cell carcinoma when I was just three years old profoundly shaped my curiosity about medicine and the human body. This early tragedy sparked a passion in me to understand how diseases work and, ultimately, how I could help others who find themselves in similar situations. As I progressed through school, my fascination deepened, leading me to take more complex science courses such as AP Biology and Honors Zoology. These subjects ignited my desire to understand the intricacies of life, health, and healing. This is when I realized I wanted to study biochemistry and oncology—the study of cancer. But the discovery doesn’t stop there. Through my academic and extracurricular activities, I have developed leadership skills that will help me make a tangible difference in the field of STEM. As the only girl on my nine-person robotics team, I have taken on a profound leadership role, guiding my teammates and ensuring we work together to solve complex problems. This experience has taught me how to navigate challenges, communicate complex ideas effectively, and collaborate with others—skills that are essential for a future in science. Additionally, witnessing the defunding of my school’s science programs has motivated me to take action. I’ve worked to organize science fairs and other STEM events within my Women in STEM club, aiming to keep scientific exploration alive and accessible to my peers despite the financial constraints. These events not only give students opportunities to engage with science but also help spark curiosity and innovation during a time when resources are limited. As I continue my studies, I plan to use the leadership skills I’ve honed to further my exploration of oncology and biochemistry. I am committed to finding innovative ways to improve cancer treatments and bring ethical considerations into the medical field. In particular, I want to contribute to the creation of a healthcare system that prioritizes accessibility and compassion, especially for underserved communities. My experiences as a young woman in STEM have fueled my determination to break barriers and ensure that all voices, particularly those of women, are heard and represented in scientific fields. Ultimately, through all I've learned and experienced, there are few things certain about the rest of my life—but this: I want to represent the strong women before me, from my mother to Hedy Lamarr, and contribute to science in new ways never thought possible.

My life has been shaped by loss and adversity in ways that most people my age will never understand. Cancer has been an ever-present shadow, taking the people I love and leaving me with a constant, unshakable fear of what's to come. I lost my father and grandpa from different cancer battles before I was 5, and by 14, my grandmother suffered the same fate. Most recently, my aunt was diagnosed with cancer just last month, that's spread to her breasts and lungs. Watching her fight has only deepened my desire to pursue a career in oncology, where I can make a meaningful impact and help others facing similar struggles. These losses have been painful, but they have also fueled my determination to fight back. I don’t want cancer to define my life or the lives of others. From a young age, I’ve been drawn to science, captivated by the complexities of human biology and the idea that science can unlock solutions to real-world problems. Over time, this curiosity evolved into a focused interest in oncology, where science and medicine intersect in the fight for survival. The more I learn about how cancer develops, spreads, and can be treated, the more I am motivated to contribute to finding better therapies and, eventually, cures. Growing up, my family faced significant financial instability, making it difficult for me to fully engage in school activities. My mother, the strongest person I know, has been battling a severe, undiagnosed medical condition for years, leading to constant hospitalizations. This responsibility has often fallen to me, and I've had to balance school with caring for her and managing our household. I've spent countless nights studying by candlelight, unsure whether I would have the resources to continue my education. Despite these challenges, I have always believed in the power of education to overcome adversity. Though my circumstances often feel isolating, they have also fueled my resilience. I have fought for every opportunity, knowing that education is the key to changing my future. This passion for learning has led me to apply for over a hundred scholarships in the past year alone. While the process has been exhausting, it has only reinforced my resolve. Every rejection is a reminder that I cannot give up. This scholarship would provide me with the support I need to focus on my studies, relieve some of the financial burden, and bring me closer to my dream of becoming an oncologist. I know pursuing a degree in STEM, particularly in oncology, is not easy. It requires immense dedication, a strong work ethic, and the ability to persevere through challenges. But the hardships I’ve faced have prepared me for this path. I’ve seen how much the world needs passionate people who are committed to solving problems and making a difference. Cancer has been a constant in my life, but it will not define my future. I am determined to use my pain as motivation, to transform it into something positive by helping others who are fighting for their lives. This scholarship would offer me the opportunity to continue my education without the constant worry about financial instability. It would help me focus on my studies, and bring me one step closer to my goal of becoming an oncologist, so that I can provide others the hope and care that I have so desperately sought for my own family. Thank you for considering my application and for supporting me as I pursue my passion for science and work to make a difference in the fight against cancer.

The universe is like one giant molecular reaction, with complexities and interactions happening at every level, and though we may never fully understand every bond, atom, or electron, the pursuit of knowledge is like being a scientist in a lab with an endless series of experiments. For me, this curiosity has led me to biochemistry, where molecules are the building blocks that make life happen—kind of like the secret ingredients in a recipe that somehow always keep changing. It's as if the molecules are always in motion, forming new bonds, breaking old ones, and rearranging into new compounds that no one quite expects. In biochemistry, you’re trying to understand the structure and behavior of life’s molecular "ingredients," like learning how every atom has a role in creating the perfect, ever-evolving reaction that makes a living organism work. But here’s the catch: just understanding the molecules isn’t enough. It’s like knowing how to build a molecule but not knowing how it will interact with everything else around it. That’s why I also believe it’s crucial to factor in the psychological and ethical aspects of medicine. If biochemistry is the foundation, psychology is the catalyst—accelerating or inhibiting certain reactions in the body, depending on the mental state. And ethics? Well, that’s the reaction’s equilibrium—ensuring that all the components work together for the greater good, without creating harmful byproducts. In the same way that every molecule must play nice with others to create a balanced system, we need to understand how both the body and mind work together to truly improve healthcare—and make it accessible to everyone. It’s all about finding that perfect molecular balance. Biochemistry is a subject that truly fascinates me. The idea that everything in the human body, from our cells to our organs, is driven by chemical reactions and molecules is mind-blowing. I want to dig deep into how diseases start, how they spread, and how we can develop better treatments. For me, learning about the biological processes in the body is the key to solving many of the problems that people face when it comes to their health. I hope to use this knowledge to develop better, more affordable treatments for diseases that are often misunderstood or underfunded. But studying biochemistry is only part of the puzzle. I also think it’s crucial to understand the mind. Medicine isn’t just about the body—it’s about the person as a whole. How we think and feel affects our health in ways we might not even realize. For example, stress can have a huge impact on our immune system, and mental health issues can change the way our bodies react to treatments. That’s why I’m passionate about bringing together what I learn in biochemistry with an understanding of psychology. By studying both, we can create more well-rounded approaches to treating illness that don’t just focus on the physical but also consider the emotional and psychological state of patients. Along with science and psychology, I want to make sure I’m always thinking about the ethics of medicine. Science has the potential to do so much good, but it also has a lot of power, and we need to use it responsibly. As I learn more about medicine and biochemistry, I want to make sure that I’m making decisions that are ethical, that consider the impact on people’s lives, and that prioritize their well-being. I want to work in a way that helps everyone—not just those who can afford the best treatments. One of the main reasons I want to pursue these studies is because of the current state of healthcare in the United States. You may have heard a slew of jokes and conversation sparked by Luigi Mangione's arrest, but truthfully there are actually underlying problems that this tragedy highlights. So many people can’t access the care they need, and I believe that should change. By combining my knowledge of biochemistry, psychology, and ethics, I hope to contribute to a future where healthcare is not a privilege for a few but a right for all. Whether that’s through developing more affordable treatments or finding ways to reduce the emotional toll of illness, I want to be part of the movement to make healthcare more accessible and fair for everyone. This scholarship would help me take the next step toward reaching my goals. It would allow me to continue my education in biochemistry and psychology, bringing me closer to becoming someone who can make a real difference in healthcare. I’m passionate about learning more about how the world works and using that knowledge to help people. I truly believe that by combining science, psychology, and ethics, we can not only improve medicine but also make it more accessible to those who need it most.

I never got to know my dad. He was diagnosed with small cell carcinoma when I was a newborn, and he passed away the day before my third birthday. Growing up, I didn’t really understand what had happened to him or where he went. It was something I felt but couldn’t quite grasp. I grew up without a father and had to learn life’s biggest lessons without his guidance, all while dealing with the lingering absence of someone I’d never known. As a child, it was difficult to make sense of why other kids had dads at school events or got to spend time with their fathers while I didn’t. I saw photos and heard stories about my dad, but they didn’t fill the gap I felt inside. Over time, I learned that my dad’s cancer was the cause. Even though I never knew him, I could see the deep love my family still had for him, especially my mom, who kept his memory alive for me. Her strength in the face of such pain became something I admired deeply as I grew older. She was always there for me, even when her own heart was broken, and that resilience is something I carry with me today. Growing up without my dad, I had to mature faster than most of my peers. I didn’t have someone to teach me how to ride a bike or offer me advice on life’s challenges. But I learned other valuable lessons. I watched my mom give everything she had to raise me, despite the struggles she faced after losing my dad. She taught me that even in the face of overwhelming loss, you keep going. Her ability to keep pushing forward, even when life was unfair, shaped the way I view challenges. It showed me the importance of resilience, and not being defined by loss. As I got older, I began to understand cancer better—not just as a disease, but as something that impacts entire families. I started to realize the depth of what my mom and I had gone through, and I became determined to do something about it. My dad’s journey, though short, sparked a desire in me to help others affected by cancer. I may never have been able to help my dad, but I want to make a difference for other families facing what we went through. That’s why I’m pursuing a career in healthcare, hoping to one day be part of a team that helps others battle this disease. Losing my dad at such a young age taught me some hard truths. I learned that life can be unpredictable and that we can’t always control what happens to us, but we can control how we respond to it. His death made me appreciate the little moments more and realize that time is precious. I’ve become someone who values every opportunity, because I know how easily things can change. It has fueled my ambition to make a difference and leave a positive impact on the world, whether that’s through my career or my relationships with others. This scholarship would help me take the next step toward becoming someone who can contribute to the fight against cancer, just as my family fought through it. Even though I never had the chance to know my dad, I carry his memory with me every day. I’m determined to make him proud by pursuing a path in healthcare that honors what my family went through. I hope to be someone who helps others through their darkest times, just as we were helped during ours.

As a first-generation student, I’ve realized that I’m not like the many brilliant, promising young prodigies at my school. My parents never considered college an option for me, not because they didn’t believe in my potential, but because they didn’t understand the value of higher education. They’ve pushed through finding success without a degree as it was never a financial option for them, and as a result, they’ve made it clear that they don’t intend to help me navigate the complexities of getting a degree. While this could have easily discouraged me, I’ve chosen to use it as motivation. Not only do I want to prove myself to everyone who ever doubted me, but I also want to show my parents that this path I’m choosing can truly make a difference. Growing up in a household where health problems were a constant battle, I’ve seen how quickly life can change, or end. My dad passed away from cancer when I was only three years old, and my mom has faced severe health complications after contracting COVID-19 in 2020, issues that still affect her to this day. These experiences have been a constant reminder that health is fragile and can be fleeting. Because of this, I’ve developed a passion for medicine, specifically how the human body responds to medication. I want major in biochemistry and explore how pharmaceuticals work, while also considering the ethics behind medical treatments and how they impact people on a personal level. I want to learn the science behind medicine, but I also want to make sure that the people who need it most don’t fall through the cracks. I believe that by combining scientific knowledge with genuine empathy, I can make a difference in healthcare. The system has so many flaws, and I hope to be part of the change that brings new opportunities to families like mine who have faced difficult times and found no support. This scholarship would mean more to me than just financial support. As a first-generation student, the road to college is challenging, and the financial burden can be overwhelming. This scholarship would provide me with the resources to continue my education and focus on my studies without constantly worrying about how I’m going to pay for it. With this help, I can move closer to my dreams and my goal of making a positive impact on the world. I know my journey won’t be easy, but I am determined to keep pushing forward, not just for myself, but for my family and everyone who has believed in me or who I need to place faith into. This scholarship would be an important step toward turning my vision for the future into reality.

The week before my 16th birthday, I made a choice that could have ended my life. Overwhelmed by darkness, I took 42 various pills, a decision born out of deep depression and despair in the heat of an argument with my mom. Instead of celebrating my sweet 16th, I spent it in a mental institution, crying each night I felt cold and alone. I felt distant from my loved ones, disconnected from who I was, and lost in the overwhelming weight of my emotions. That experience, although traumatic, became the turning point that led me to seek a path of healing. Since that moment, I have worked tirelessly to rebuild myself. I learned to lean on those who cared for me, especially my family, and slowly began to recognize my own worth. I understood that healing was a long journey, but one worth taking. My struggles didn’t define me—they sparked within me a determination to help others facing similar battles. I became passionate about promoting mental health awareness, because no one should ever feel as alone as I did during my darkest moments. One key realization I’ve had throughout this journey is how often mental health is overlooked within the broader medical field. In particular, through observing my mother’s struggles with being a neglected patient in the healthcare system, I noticed how the biological side of medicine often disregards the psychological aspect. This gap can create disconnection and total apathy when the point of medicine is to help. Thus, as I pursue a career in medicine, I want to advocate for implementing more active mental health support with biological care. Treating the whole person, both body and mind, is crucial for true healing. In addition to pursuing a career in medicine, I’ve taken steps to support others who are struggling. After my suicide attempt, I founded a school club that taught students how to crochet. The goal wasn’t just to learn a new skill, but to provide an outlet for emotional expression and to foster a sense of community. Students crocheted blankets or dolls, which we donated to various causes, offering warmth and kindness to others. The club became a symbol of resilience—showing that even if you feel like you have nothing, you can still make a difference. As I move forward in my education and career, my goal is to break the stigma surrounding mental health and encourage others to seek help without fear of judgment. I want to create spaces where people feel empowered to talk about their mental health, where they understand the connection between their minds and bodies, and where they know that healing is possible. This scholarship will help me further my education in the field of mental health, enabling me to advocate for a more integrated approach to healthcare that acknowledges the vital role of mental well-being. My journey has shaped my passion for helping others, and I will continue to dedicate myself to ensuring that no one feels as lost as I once did. I am determined to be part of a future where mental health is prioritized, and where every individual can seek help without hesitation.

For as long as I can remember, my life has been shaped by the pain of watching my family struggle with health crises—my father’s battle with small cell carcinoma, losing both grandparents to different kinds of cancers, and my mother’s years of misdiagnosed medical conditions. These personal experiences have not only ignited a deep passion for the field of biochemistry but have also instilled in me a desire to change the way healthcare is practiced. As I watched my loved ones suffer due to medical negligence and misunderstanding, I knew that I wanted to dedicate my life to creating a better, more compassionate healthcare system, where science and empathy work hand in hand to improve patient outcomes. For a long time, I struggled to find my path. As a teenager, I battled severe and untreated anxiety-- I was lost in a world where uncertainty was my only constant. It was difficult to see beyond my immediate struggles, let alone think about a future career. However, the tragic loss of my father to cancer and my mother’s ongoing medical challenges opened my eyes to the importance of healthcare, compassion, and the need for change. When my father passed away, it felt like the medical system had failed us. Despite all the treatment he received, we were never given the full picture of his illness. The doctors did not offer enough information, nor did they show the empathy and support that we needed during such a difficult time. My mother’s struggles now are no less heartbreaking. For years, she's been misdiagnosed and given the wrong treatments for her health issues, leading to unnecessary pain and confusion, and stacking medical bills higher than any hope I had for college. These experiences ignited a desire in me to pursue a career in medicine, but not just any career—I wanted to change the way healthcare professionals approach their patients, with an emphasis on ethics, empathy, and patient-centered care. In my journey toward higher education, I’ve come to realize that biochemistry and pharmaceuticals are the fields where I can make the greatest impact. Biochemistry has always fascinated me because of its deep connection to the processes that occur within our bodies and how the molecules we study can affect our health. I want to contribute to the development of more effective treatments, while ensuring that they are prescribed and administered ethically. The hardships I’ve faced, combined with the strong desire to make a difference in the healthcare system, have only fueled my determination. I believe that through biochemistry and pharmaceuticals, I can contribute to more ethical, empathetic, and scientifically sound practices in medicine. This scholarship will allow me to continue working toward my goals, overcoming the financial challenges that have sometimes seemed insurmountable, and ultimately making a positive impact on the lives of those who face the same medical struggles that my family has endured. In conclusion, the loss of my father and the ongoing struggles of my mother have shown me the importance of empathy, ethics, and education in the medical field. I am determined to pursue a career in biochemistry and pharmaceuticals, not only to advance medical knowledge but also to ensure that future patients receive the care, respect, and understanding they deserve. With hard work, dedication, and the support of scholarships like this one, I know I can make a difference in the world of healthcare.

I’ve always been drawn to all things biological and medical. Whether it’s pharmaceuticals, neuroscience, or biochemistry, I have always been fascinated by the intricacies of life and the potential medicine holds to create a more ethical and curious society. But my passion for medicine isn’t just academic; it is close to who I am as a person. Having lost my father and three of my grandparents to various forms of cancer, and watching my mother struggle with undiagnosed medical issues for the past four years, I’ve felt a strong connection to the medical field. Witnessing the decline in my family’s quality of life due to health challenges has inspired me to dedicate my life to bringing peace and relief to those around me. Through these personal experiences, I’ve realized that the field of medicine offers not just an opportunity to heal, but a chance to push boundaries, seek out new answers, and contribute to advancing our understanding of the human body. My desire to make an impact lies in discovering aspects of healthcare that are often understudied or overlooked. Women’s healthcare, for example, has been historically underfunded and under-researched, despite the fact that many conditions disproportionately affect women. Similarly, the long-term effects of COVID-19 on various demographics remain largely unexplored, and I want to be part of that research to better understand how to improve recovery and treatment. I also have a strong interest in improving access to healthcare in rural and underserved communities. Many people in these areas are forced to live without proper medical care or ethical healthcare standards, and I want to be part of the solution by developing more inclusive, accessible, and equitable healthcare practices. My passion is rooted in the belief that no one should be left behind when it comes to their health, no matter their background or where they live. Although I know my time at university will not follow the typical "crazy college experience," I am excited for the research opportunities that lie ahead. I am committed to pursuing academic excellence and contributing to cutting-edge research. I am particularly excited about attending the only R1 research university in Arkansas, where I will have access to top-tier research facilities and the chance to work alongside experts in my field. Through this scholarship, I will be able to fund my educational opportunities and take full advantage of the resources available to me. My professional goal is to use my education and research to develop new treatments, improve healthcare access, and contribute to an ethical and forward-thinking medical community. The personal experiences that have shaped my life continue to motivate me every day, and I am determined to make a lasting impact in the field of medicine. This scholarship will help me take the next step in achieving my dreams and advancing my passion for bettering the world through science and medicine.

Being an openly bisexual woman in the deep South "Bible Belt" is not an easy burden. The pressure to conform to societal norms and expectations is often overwhelming, especially as someone who not only identifies as queer but also believes in Christ and regularly attended church. For many years, I lived in silence, afraid to speak up about my truth, scared that those who were supposed to protect me would make me feel unsafe. And often by some of my more judgemental peers, I would be ridiculed and questioned for having goals and aspirations, simply because I dared to like women too. However, through these challenges, I learned resilience. I began to realize that my identity as a bisexual woman wasn’t something to be hidden but something to be celebrated. I found my voice, speaking out against the negativity that was pushed onto me. This journey of self-empowerment has fueled my passion for advocating for LGBTQIA+ individuals and uplifting those whose voices are often silenced or marginalized. As someone who has experienced the struggle of balancing personal identity with societal expectations, I’ve dedicated myself to representing bisexuality and female empowerment in my community constantly. I volunteer my time to help others feel seen and valued, especially young queer people who might be struggling with similar challenges, whether it be not finding a community or not fitting into any they have found. I’ve used my experiences to create safe spaces where others can express themselves freely, knowing they’re supported and understood. I've advocated the for safer environments for all and created a push back through school club events and close minded circumstances. The scholarship in honor of Coco Chanel resonates deeply with me because Coco’s commitment to advocating for safe spaces and artistic freedom aligns perfectly with my own mission. Coco was a beacon of light in her community, and I strive to follow in her footsteps by using my platform and experiences to empower others. I have learned that speaking out, even in the face of adversity, is powerful—and I want to continue doing this through my studies and future career. In my pursuit of a career in STEM, specifically in pharmaceuticals and neuroscience, I am driven by the desire to help both women and the LGBTQIA+ community. I aim to contribute to the scientific community in ways that directly impact the well-being and health of individuals in these groups as they're often left understudied. I have always been fascinated by how the human mind and body work, and I want to use my knowledge to develop solutions that address the unique medical and psychological challenges faced by these communities. The scholarship would help me continue my education, enabling me to deepen my understanding of these fields and advance my career. With this opportunity, I plan to use my studies to bridge the gap between medical advancements and the needs of the LGBTQIA+ community. It is my goal to bring a much-needed perspective to the world of science, one that is informed by personal experience, compassion, and a deep desire to make a positive impact.

When high school began, another issue was brewing within my life. My mom was getting sick. VERY sick. Despite her perseverance and trust in doctors, she was often met with medical negligence and misdiagnosis, leaving her health in a constant state of decline for the past four years. And as her health complications have piled up, so have the medical bills, placing a heavy financial burden on our family. I watched my mother fight a system that often overlooked her needs, and it sparked a deep desire in me to pursue a career in medicine—not just to advance my own future, but to help others avoid the same things she had to go through. I am driven to study biochemistry and pharmacy because I believe these fields offer the tools to address systemic issues in healthcare, particularly in underserved and underrepresented communities like rural areas or patients of color. The failure of healthcare access and quality in these communities are often exacerbated by a lack of resources, education, and, most importantly, healthcare professionals who understand the unique needs of these populations. Rural areas, especially, often face challenges such as a shortage of specialists, long travel distances to medical facilities, and a general lack of medical outreach. I want to use my knowledge of biochemistry to contribute to the development of more effective treatments and drugs, and pharmacy to ensure these treatments are accessible and tailored to the specific needs of individuals, especially in communities where healthcare is difficult to access. Additionally, my personal experience with my mother’s healthcare struggles has instilled in me a strong desire to advocate for women’s health. Too often, women’s symptoms are dismissed or misdiagnosed, leaving them without the care they desperately need. I want to become a compassionate and informed professional who can be a voice for women in medicine, helping to ensure they receive proper diagnoses and treatments. I believe that healthcare professionals must not only be skilled but also empathetic and willing to fight for their patients' well-being. By combining my passion for science with my personal commitment to equity, I aim to make a tangible difference in the lives of those who need it most. The Etherine Scholarship represents an incredible opportunity for me to pursue my dreams of becoming a healthcare professional who can give back to communities like mine. I am committed to using my education and career to make a positive impact, ensuring that no one else has to experience the same hardships my family has faced. I believe that through dedication, compassion, and a strong sense of purpose, I can help create a more inclusive and just healthcare system for all, one that ensures no one—regardless of gender, location, or background—falls through the cracks.

In the 19th century, the Covid-19 pandemic would have been viewed as an omen or a miasma. Before the Germ Theory of Disease, illness was thought to be a matter of fate. However, Louis Pasteur’s theory in 1857 revealed that microorganisms cause disease, changing medicine, public health, and sanitation forever. And while one may argue that a theory cannot be a technology, this theory caused the shape of the vaccinations, sterilization techniques, and PCR (Polymerase Chain Reaction) technology, therefore shaping the technology of everything in modern medicine. Today, the Germ Theory is the foundation of modern medicine. This transformative idea has shaped our entire understanding of healthcare, inspiring my passion for biochemistry and my commitment to improving healthcare systems and diagnostics for a healthier future. Before the Germ Theory, diseases were attributed to "bad air" or imbalances in the body. It wasn’t until scientists identified microorganisms that we understood how diseases spread through bacteria and viruses. Pasteur’s work, building on Robert Koch’s discoveries, revealed that specific germs cause specific diseases, such as anthrax (NBCI, 2004). Pasteur’s insights also led to vaccines and antimicrobial drugs, revolutionizing modern microbiology and medicine (Pallen, 2020). The medical field as we know it would not exist without this theory. As an aspiring biochemist, I’m driven to study how microorganisms interact with the human body at a molecular level. The Germ Theory is essential in understanding pathogen mechanisms and immune responses. My passion for biochemistry is deeply personal. Growing up, both my parents suffered from misdiagnosed illnesses. My father lost his life to untreated small cell carcinoma, and my mother faces long-term health issues. Their experiences with outdated diagnostic methods and ineffective treatments fueled my determination to push for improvements in healthcare. Through my studies, I aim to bridge the gap between scientific research and its practical applications. I hope to develop accurate diagnostic tools and targeted therapies to address infectious diseases, improving care for individuals. The Germ Theory has had a profound impact—shaping public health policies, leading to vaccines, and highlighting the importance of sanitation. Yet, many communities still face significant healthcare challenges. Inspired by my parents' experiences, I am committed to addressing these gaps and applying scientific discoveries to real-world problems. The Germ Theory has defined my life and career path. By continuing Pasteur’s work, I hope to contribute to a future where scientific progress benefits everyone and ensures a healthier world for all.

I have always grown too big for the things around me. When I was young, it simply began with being too tall or old to wear the same clothes I once adored years prior. But as I've grown, it seems to follow me into everyday life in things that I never expect to grow out of. I never anticipate the day I'll grow out of depressive episodes--or grow into them--or out of friendships I planned to reference at my wedding. But the key thing I've recognized through mental health is that you cannot constrict yourself from growing simply because that means you will not fit where you once did anymore. Through the years, I have learned this lesson the hard way, often encountering obstacles that, while challenging, have ultimately helped me become who I am today. One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced in my life is anxiety. It’s been with me for as long as I can remember, always showing up in different forms—whether it was worrying about school, dreading social situations, or feeling trapped in my own mind. I’ve spent so much of my life navigating through waves of intense worry, which often felt like chains I couldn’t break free from. Anxiety has been a constant presence, shaping how I see the world, how I interact with others, and even how I see myself. It hasn’t been something I could ignore, no matter how much I wished I could. But despite its grip on me, it’s also pushed me to grow in unexpected ways. One way I’ve tried to cope with anxiety is by giving back to others, hoping that by helping others find comfort, I could find some for myself too. In high school, I started the first-ever crochet club at my school—not just to bring together students with a shared interest, but to create a space where we could support each other. For me, crocheting has always been a way to calm my mind. The focus and mindfulness it requires help quiet the constant noise in my head. So, I saw an opportunity to share that peace with others. Our club’s mission became clear: to use our skills to raise awareness for mental health. We crocheted blankets, scarves, and hats to donate to local organizations that support people, especially those struggling with mental health challenges. It became a way for me to manage my anxiety while helping others find comfort through something simple yet meaningful. This experience has shaped how I view mental health. I believe everyone deserves to be heard, understood, and supported in their journey toward well-being. I’ve learned that the road to mental health isn’t always straight, but that each small step forward is significant. That belief has led me to pursue a career in science, where I hope to contribute to research on mental health and neuroscience. I’m particularly interested in understanding the links between chronic anxiety, biochemistry, and how our environment impacts mental well-being. I want to learn how factors like stress, nutrition, and lifestyle affect the brain, and how this in turn shapes mental health. Through research, I hope to help create new treatments or preventative measures that can support people like me and my family members who’ve also struggled with anxiety. As I look to the future, I’m excited to pursue a degree in neuroscience and biochemistry. I want to combine my personal experiences with scientific knowledge to help develop solutions for those affected by mental health challenges. Having lived with anxiety, I understand how important it is to understand your mind, but I also know that science holds the key to finding more answers—answers that can improve the lives of millions. The lessons I’ve learned about mental health have shaped my aspirations. I’ve come to realize that it’s okay to grow beyond who you once were and that growth often means stepping into discomfort and letting go of old ways of thinking. Through my work with the crochet club and my academic journey, I aim to keep growing in ways that not only help me but also others who are facing similar battles. I want to create a world where mental health isn’t something to be ashamed of, but something we all openly support and understand. This journey hasn’t been easy, and the path ahead will be full of challenges, but I’m more determined than ever to pursue my passion for science and mental health. This scholarship will help me continue my education and move closer to my goal of finding solutions that can make a real difference in people’s lives. With a deeper understanding of mental health, I hope to not only continue my own growth, but also to help others on their journey toward healing and strength.

Scientific negligence isn’t something lost on me. Over the past two years, my mother’s health has been continuously disregarded due to a shocking modern ignorance in women's health. Despite several visits to healthcare professionals, symptoms were ignored or labelled as allergies. My mother’s state worsened, and as a family, we struggle as the medical system fails her. She continues to fall deeper into a cycle of misdiagnoses, inadequate treatments, and mounting medical debt. The emotional and financial strain caused my family has been devastating, and this experience has forever altered my perspective on medicine. And while the bulk of my family views medicine in a cynical light, I've discovered a sense of urgency to push back. Watching my mom suffer, often ignored or even belittled by medical professionals who failed to take her symptoms seriously, has left me disheartened to the disparity in how different groups, particularly women, are treated by the medical community. The lack of awareness and research on how women’s bodies respond to diseases and medications, the way healthcare providers can brush off symptoms due to biases, and the general reluctance to listen—these issues have shaped the way I view the medical field. While some might choose to distance themselves from a system that has caused so much pain, I am motivated to be part of the solution. I am pursuing a degree in biochemistry because I want to understand the mechanisms of ALL human bodies at a molecular level. I believe that scientific research holds the key to unlocking new medical possibilities. Through biochemistry, I will gain the knowledge and skills to explore the biochemical pathways that underlie health and disease. My goal is to engage in laboratory research that contributes to the broader medical community’s understanding of diseases, particularly those that disproportionately affect women. By doing so, I hope to provide new insights that will help bridge the gap in medical knowledge and create more effective, inclusive treatments for all. Ultimately, my aim is to attend medical school to study either neuroscience or pharmaceuticals. I have seen firsthand how important it is for doctors to approach their patients with both empathy and scientific rigor, and I want to be part of that future. Neuroscience is an exciting and rapidly evolving field, and understanding how the brain works—how diseases of the brain develop and how they can be treated—has the potential to improve countless lives. On the other hand, pharmaceutical research offers the opportunity to develop new treatments that could directly address the healthcare shortcomings I’ve witnessed in my own family. This scholarship would provide the financial support I need to pursue my academic goals without the burden of financial stress. It would allow me to focus on my studies and research, empowering me to contribute to the medical community in meaningful ways. As I move forward, I am not just driven by personal ambition but by a desire to make a real difference in the lives of those who have been failed by the system, like my mother, and to contribute to a future where no one’s health is overlooked or neglected. I believe that my experiences, while painful, have provided me with a unique perspective—one that will guide my work in both research and medicine. This scholarship would allow me to take the next step toward turning that vision into reality, and to work toward a world where healthcare is equitable, accessible, and effective for everyone.

Scientific negligence isn’t something lost on me. Over the past two years, my mother’s health has been continuously disregarded due to a shocking modern ignorance in women's health. Despite several visits to healthcare professionals, symptoms were ignored or labelled as allergies. My mother’s state worsened, and as a family, we struggle as the medical system fails her. She continues to fall deeper into a cycle of misdiagnoses, inadequate treatments, and mounting medical debt. The emotional and financial strain caused my family has been devastating, and this experience has forever altered my perspective on medicine. And while the bulk of my family views medicine in a cynical light, I've discovered a sense of urgency to push back. Watching my mom suffer, often ignored or even belittled by medical professionals who failed to take her symptoms seriously, has left me disheartened to the disparity in how different groups, particularly women, are treated by the medical community. The lack of awareness and research on how women’s bodies respond to diseases and medications, the way healthcare providers can brush off symptoms due to biases, and the general reluctance to listen—these issues have shaped the way I view the medical field. While some might choose to distance themselves from a system that has caused so much pain, I am motivated to be part of the solution. I am pursuing a degree in biochemistry because I want to understand the mechanisms of ALL human bodies at a molecular level. I believe that scientific research holds the key to unlocking new medical possibilities. Through biochemistry, I will gain the knowledge and skills to explore the biochemical pathways that underlie health and disease. My goal is to engage in laboratory research that contributes to the broader medical community’s understanding of diseases, particularly those that disproportionately affect women. By doing so, I hope to provide new insights that will help bridge the gap in medical knowledge and create more effective, inclusive treatments for all. Ultimately, my aim is to attend medical school to study either neuroscience or pharmaceuticals. I have seen firsthand how important it is for doctors to approach their patients with both empathy and scientific rigor, and I want to be part of that future. Neuroscience is an exciting and rapidly evolving field, and understanding how the brain works—how diseases of the brain develop and how they can be treated—has the potential to improve countless lives. On the other hand, pharmaceutical research offers the opportunity to develop new treatments that could directly address the healthcare shortcomings I’ve witnessed in my own family. This scholarship would provide the financial support I need to pursue my academic goals without the burden of financial stress. It would allow me to focus on my studies and research, empowering me to contribute to the medical community in meaningful ways. As I move forward, I am not just driven by personal ambition but by a desire to make a real difference in the lives of those who have been failed by the system, like my mother, and to contribute to a future where no one’s health is overlooked or neglected. I believe that my experiences, while painful, have provided me with a unique perspective—one that will guide my work in both research and medicine. This scholarship would allow me to take the next step toward turning that vision into reality, and to work toward a world where healthcare is equitable, accessible, and effective for everyone.

I’ve yet to meet Superman, a person invincible to life’s foes, with only a radioactive crystal stopping them. The instability that comes with being human has crumbled everyone down at least once—and likely twice. However, I’ve been blessed to learn and embody grit many times, standing back up stronger each time. Life can be incredibly challenging, but the growth and strength that come from cleaning up the mess always outweigh the pity and self-loathing that many find themselves trapped in. When I first experienced deep struggles, the will to give up was overwhelming. I remember days when the weight of anxiety felt like a physical burden, making it hard to get out of bed, and I can’t deny there were points when I let things around me crash and burn. At the end of my sophomore year, the stress I faced, compounded by poor self-worth, led me to a dark place. I underwent some of my most haunting experiences, including complete family detachment and a mental hospitalization. The sterile walls of the hospital felt suffocating, and while I would never say I appreciated these moments, they forced me to confront the weight of reality. Everyone has a rock bottom, and often an even steeper one lies ahead. My junior year proved to be even more challenging as my mom began a long journey of medical issues, including frequent hospital visits and misunderstandings about her condition. At the same time, the power fuse in my room became permanently burnt, leaving me in darkness—both literally and figuratively, it seemed. As I struggled to figure out my mental health, the stability of my home crumbled around me. The dread of going home grew overwhelming. Each time I returned to an empty house, anxiety would set in, causing my stomach to drop and my heart to race. I not only had to convince myself that things would be fine, but I also had two little brothers to reassure me. They looked to me for guidance, their innocent smiles juxtaposed against the chaos. Yet, through warm hugs, video game nights, and the simple joy of sharing snacks, we created a glimmer of light amid the dark lows. Grit is something you must build during your weakest moments; without tears, there are no appreciative smiles. Through months of isolation, self-discovery, and plenty of mistakes, I found strength in the struggle. By the end of junior year, despite everything, I came out with a 4.2 GPA, six awards for my debate and poetry achievements, and a charity club I founded to support healthy hobbies in my school and give back to the community. Hardship never truly ends; overcoming one obstacle often leads to facing the next. But that doesn’t mean you have to view life through a pessimistic lens. Life isn’t meant to be composed solely of joy or pain. We are blessed to experience both, and it is through this blend that we grow. So, through this erratic gift of life, I’ve learned that my time is now. I’ve come to recognize my mistakes, my falls, my growth, and my grit. I'm excited to see how much further it will take me as I pursue a career in the medical field, and make a historical scratch into research.

Leadership is like a well-formulated medication; it requires precise ingredients, careful calibration, and the ability to bring out the best in others. Throughout my high school journey, I have made countless efforts to discover my full potential. In founding a crochet club, serving as Vice President of Women in STEM, and leading my robotics team, I've established a table of diverse experiences that will serve as the elements of my career in biochemistry and research. In my junior year, I established a crochet club with the mission of creating handmade items for local hospitals because of the psychological comfort associated with handmade toys. This project began with a simple idea: to combine creativity with compassion. I organized meetings that brought students together to learn crochet techniques while contributing to projects such as blankets for homeless shelters and hats for premature infants. This experience not only allowed me to lead a group but also fostered a sense of community and responsibility. Witnessing the joy our creations brought to those in need solidified my commitment to dedicating my life to helping others, a principle I will carry into the rest of my life. As the Vice President of Women in STEM, I am dedicated to empowering young students to pursue their interests in science and technology. I plan to organize a science fair and tutoring program, showing students the effort toward their future is worth it. Through these projects, I aim to inspire passion and understanding in science. In my rural 'Bible Belt' area, it has been challenging to garner support. These experiences have profoundly influenced my decision to pursue a degree in biochemistry with a focus on pharmacy work. Personal challenges, particularly my mother’s ongoing medical issues, have instilled in me a deep motivation to study pharmaceuticals. I am passionate about developing solutions that improve healthcare access for underserved populations, such as those in rural areas like my own or women such as my mother, ensuring that others don’t have to go through those same things. In college, I plan to engage in research that explores these issues, contributing to advancements that can alleviate suffering and enhance quality of life. Receiving this scholarship would be transformative. It would ease the financial burden of pursuing higher education, allowing me to focus on my studies and community initiatives without the overwhelming pressure of student debt. With this support, I would be empowered to engage in research and projects that align with my goal of making a meaningful impact in the pharmaceutical field. In summary, my high school experiences in leadership and community service have shaped my aspirations and prepared me to contribute positively to society. I am committed to being a woman in STEM who advocates for equitable healthcare access. This scholarship represents not just financial relief, but also an opportunity to further my education and continue making a difference in the lives of others. I am excited to embrace the future and the opportunities it holds, ensuring that no one has to endure the hardships my family has faced.

Selflessness was a trait that I was blessed to learn. Growing up, I felt a strong empathy for those around me, which motivated me to help others whenever possible. Often I would daydream about ways I could help people, but it wasn't until I created a local crochet club at my school that I realized what I could do thanks to this gift of sensitivity. The goal of the project I put together called "Crochet4Care" was not only to freely teach students how to crochet and develop healthy hobbies for troubled kids but also to donate projects to local charities with a minimal goal of 50 by January. The journey to establish the crochet club was not without its challenges. When I first envisioned the idea, I barely knew how to crochet -- all I knew was that I wanted to help people. I could barely complete a simple double stitch, let alone teach others. However, my desire to make a difference drove me to learn. I spent countless hours watching online tutorials, practicing, and perfecting my skills. I discovered that learning to crochet was time-consuming, requiring patience and dedication. Yet, every stitch I mastered felt like a small victory, empowering my commitment. As I tried to discover how on earth I was supposed to crochet, it was time to start teaching students. Teaching others to crochet was a rewarding experience ultimately. I watched as students transformed from novices into crocheters more skilled than myself, each person finding joy in creating something meaningful. We spent hours together, laughing and sharing stories, all while making items that would bring warmth and comfort to those less fortunate. The community that developed within our group was inspiring; it became evident that our efforts extended beyond the tangible creations we produced. It dawned on me that by putting forth this effort to do something new, I opened a window for so many people. These students around me had been given a new opportunity to change their lives. However, the new hobby and journey reminded me that selflessness is more than a warm feeling. It requires sacrifices. Each blanket or hat took many hours to complete, often leading to sore hands and late nights that had to be juggled with AP courses and other clubs I led. Yet, the thought of the hospital patients, senior citizens, and homeless people who would receive our creations fueled a motivation to continue. I found that selflessness isn’t just about thoughtless giving; it’s also about the commitment and time you invest to create ripples of difference in someone else’s life. In conclusion, through every selfless endeavor I have pursued or aspired to in my life, the crochet movement I initiated has undeniably transformed the lives of others, as well as my own. By acquiring a new skill and imparting it to others, I have successfully cultivated selflessness within myself and among those around me. Through our collective efforts, we are not just creating items; we are nurturing a community dedicated to helping those in need.

A week before I turned 16, I tried to kill myself. While not your typical addiction or downfall, the grueling aspect of suicide sticks. I can't take certain pills anymore because I feel a rush of adrenaline telling me I'm going to die. I can't think too much about the age 16 or I remember when my step dad told me it should have worked. The lasting aspects of this attempt are not things that I can simply brush off, while the mental health struggles weren't intentional, the refusal for help was. So now, as I write this, I can truthfully say that I've been making a change. I've put in the effort to look at the clouds on a long day. I've decided what I want to study, and applied to schools all across the nation, raising my GPA by .3 in a semester--which in my school's terms, is hard to pull off. I've learned to take care of myself the same way I do those around me, gone to therapy, and cut my bangs when I felt the need for a big change quick. It all seems small, this event happening just over a year ago. But as I face my future, that in itself is the biggest change. I have a future. So as I heal my relationship with my mind and body, these things I abused and let others abuse for so long, I recognize who I am. My name is Autumn Goffar. I'm a passionate leader, the type to cry at a kids movie, hold a crying child for a second longer, and crochet projects to donate to the sick; all things I have done, by the way (Toy Story 4 is sad). I want to lead the medical field into a better place - a more educated and thoughtful place. I want to see the smile and hope of a person who never thought they'd make it through the other side of the rain cloud. There's so much in this world I want to change and appreciate, big and small, loud and tall. So as I continue to fight through the uncomfortable battle of mental health and attempt guilt, I hold my own efforts with those who are also trying. With my parents who are trying to be better to me, with my brothers who are learning how to read and write, with my friends who are learning how to understand the complexities of my anxiety. If they can try, I can. And if I can try, you can.

The American healthcare system often feels like a Battleship game: you set your course, hope for the best, and wait for your fate. And of course, many people end up suffering due to factors like their location, identity, or the lack of understanding of their medical issues, as if their "ships" are destined to be sunk. The current healthcare system has developed into a competitive "me vs. you" mentality, focusing more on finding solutions for some rather than improving the system as a whole. But it hasn't always been like this, so it doesn't have to stay like this! If I had the power to change the United States medical system all in a heartbeat, I would shift the perspective that we compete, and magnify that the medical system is made for us to learn together as a society. My mother has been misdiagnosed several times, and been put in and out of the emergency room for the most recent years of my life. As her battle for a diagnosis, and treatment, continues I’ve noticed a general frustration with the medical system all around me. Even within myself. But, how can someone passionate about medicine and biochemistry feel this way? The only explanation I have to give is that I know we can do better, so it's truly just disappointment for what could be. The medical system has the potential to advance its understanding, improve treatments, and conduct more research into less well-known health issues. With the growing resistance to medications that we've firsthand seen through opioids and their growing intensity, it's clear we are reaching the limits of what we already understand. Yet, it's so common for us to continue to roll with punches of what we don't get as we are inherently 'going to figure it out at some point.' But thanks to that idealism, we've only found resentment towards the cause, and greed built in those who are supposed to care for us. As a society and community in science, we have to collectively admit that we need to reapproach what we're doing. Because of an insistence to stick with outdated research, we're costing people their lives either through death or through a lifelong torture of misunderstanding what's going on within their bodies. The healthcare system needs to modernize, acknowledge the impacts of misdiagnosis, and move away from outdated and competitive thinking. The reality of whether or not you can live in peace should not be determined by the luck of a game of Battleship.

Hello! My name is Autumn Goffar, and I am a proud first-generation woman in STEM. I dedicate most of my time to cooking with my little brothers, crocheting, donating to local shelters and hospitals, and organizing programs for my school’s Women in STEM club. Admittedly, it can be difficult to juggle the different things I've had going on throughout the past two years, from project management to documentation on my Robotics team. But with a persistent passion for STEM and a genuine sense of perseverance, I have accomplished it all without fail. STEM means a lot of things to me. It represents hope for my future, a shared interest in learning, and a new answer to an old question. Thus, because of all of these reasons, I have found myself deeply passionate about it. I can try to ignore the admiration I hold towards all of its capabilities, and its strong power to create a new future, but even past that STEM is just a part of who I truly am. I am always curious, hoping to learn more about the possibilities of the earth, why our hearts may skip a beat when we're around someone we like, or why we can hear the fallen leaves crunch under our feet. Curiosity has been placed in me since I was young, and all of the experiences and hardships I've gone through are what led me to where I am today. From my dad's misdiagnosis of his early-stage cancer to my mom's misdiagnosed lupus, it seems I've always seen the firsthand perspective of medical negligence. Thus, it is extremely personal to me to be able to fight against this stigmatization and bring awareness to those who are ignored or looked over in medicine. It's a highly accepted factor in the medical field, and thus I refuse to accept it as it is. Through getting my education in STEM, I hope to combine morality and empathy with science - it's an easily close-knit mutualism that's so often overseen. If I'm allowed to advance my education and accomplish what I'm aiming for, I will be able to take the sense of being a human being and combine that with the logic of medicine and the understanding that things are difficult. I truly hope that through my passion for STEM, I can root out to others and show them that life is worth not just living but loving. STEM can do many things, but with a relentlessly gentle heart, these opportunities become infinite.

Growing up 'without a dad' was hard. The kids around me didn't understand how my dad died or why it was such a sensitive subject, but the problem was I barely understood it myself. I lost my dad to cancer the day before my third birthday--I don't have fun pictures to remember that day by. Since I never had the chance to create memories with him, I faced a unique struggle: I was told I couldn’t be sad, yet I seemed to feel like I was--why was that wrong? The fact of the matter is, that the memories you hold of a person after they pass are the only gift you're promised without a will determining the fate of materialism. This is something that has helped me cope with death and loss as I've grown and felt the impacts differently from how I did with my dad. It's never easy, no matter what the circumstance is, that depression and realization will always be one of the most real feelings in the world. Everything feels and fears death, and what I've had to do as I've guided myself through the death of my dad is be understanding. Feel empathy and compassion, not just for others coping but for yourself. One way that I've learned to be intentional and keep track of my healing processes is by writing things down. Documentation of where I was and where I will be is essential for the days I can't seem to shake the idea that I'm 'behind' in my healing process. The days where I feel like I'm no longer allowed to cope because it's been a month now and I still burst into tears at a simple reminder that I don't get to have a relationship with my dad. It's helped me greatly through life in general to be honest, but especially through every mourning process I've had to overcome. It was permission for me to realize I cannot control how I feel. Empathy is a big factor that guides my influence in the world and has allowed me to recognize my passion for helping. I want to study biochemistry in university, and then advance my education somewhere in the medical field. Instead of just hoping to cure sickness, though, I aspire to be the face of kindness, not just because I gave a child medicine and a lollipop, but because I allowed them to be comfortable in an otherwise uncomfortable circumstance. I want to be a warm, thoughtful presence, especially when I may be forced to tell someone the worst news of their life. Coping is complex. It is messy, and it is what reminds us we are all creatures of emotion and thought. But by allowing yourself to breathe, feel, and pray, it doesn't become easier, but rather you become stronger.

Growing up "without a dad" was hard. The kids around me didn't understand how my dad died or why it was such a sensitive subject, but the problem was I barely understood it myself. I lost my dad to cancer the day before my third birthday--I don't have any photos to remember that birthday. Because I never had the chance to create memories with him, I faced a unique struggle: I was told I couldn’t be sad, yet I seemed to feel like I was--why was that wrong? The fact of the matter is, that the memories you hold of a person after they pass are the only gifts you're promised. This is something that has helped me cope with death and loss as I've grown and felt the impacts differently from how I did with my dad. It's never easy, no matter what the circumstance is, that depression and realization will always be one of the most real feelings in the world. Everything feels and fears death, and what I've had to do as I've guided myself through the death of my dad is be understanding. Feel empathy and compassion, not just for others coping but for myself. One way that I've learned to be intentional and keep track of my healing processes is through journaling. Documentation of where I was and where I will be is essential for the days I can't seem to shake the idea that I'm 'behind' in my healing process. The days where I feel like I'm no longer allowed to cope because it's been a month now and I still burst into tears at a simple reminder of them. It's helped me greatly through life in general to be honest, but especially through every mourning process I've had to overcome. It was permission for me to realize I cannot control how I feel. Empathy is a big factor that guides my influence in the world and has allowed me to recognize my passion for helping. I want to study biochemistry in university, and then advance my education somewhere in the medical field. Instead of just hoping to cure sickness, though, I aspire to be the face of kindness, not just because I gave a child medicine and a lollipop, but because I allowed them to be comfortable in an otherwise uncomfortable circumstance. I want to be a warm, thoughtful presence, especially when I may be forced to tell someone the worst news of their life. Through all of this though, healing and learning how to be okay, my biggest influence is Jesus Christ. I have many people to thank for their thoughtful perspectives, to the same extent I could argue that many people should've never been so thoughtless about how I felt. But above everything, Christ has given me new chances, new days, and new opportunities. Often, he feels like the only window I can talk to to get some idea of where my dad is, though I may not understand why things had to be the way they were. Coping is complex. It is messy, and it is what reminds us we are all creatures of emotion and thought. But by allowing yourself to breathe, feel, and pray, it doesn't become easier, but rather you become stronger.

I founded a service and art club in my junior year of high school, from the ground up. But it takes more than spreadsheets, professional emails, and a stubborn attitude to be a leader--even if they're all helpful traits. Leadership has to be approached with attention to detail, humility, and empathy. But most importantly, confidence. Confidence that things will happen the way they need to when hard work is applied, that you are capable of achieving what you want to, and that Jesus Christ will lead you through the things that your heart desires most. Through these traits, I can say I am a leader, as I stay aware of the things I can and cannot accomplish, with a hardheaded confidence that Christ will bring me to a proper finish line--whether it's the one I plan or not. I had the gall to start a crochet club with no former crochet experience--simply a daydream that I refused to let be just another thought. And to be honest, it was one of the best ideas I've ever been confident enough to start. I've had the chance to learn how to crochet, teach people who are too scared to start and dedicate myself to donating to charities such as children's hospitals, animal shelters, and retirement homes. It's taken full dedication to truly compose the club, having to find teacher sponsors, get approval from the school board, and contact centers to know what donations are accepted. And at no point has it ever been arguably easy, having to overcome a major aspect of my anxiety to get anything done essentially every time I have to start a new element of the foundation. But it was through leadership I carried with myself that I managed to start what I have started. I have had to get over my distaste for people for the sake of a professional and kind environment, learning how to empathize and also understand that as someone who has the chance to hold authority, it is my basic responsibility to ensure that my feelings of people never get in the way of their opportunities. I have even had to fight to get respect as a student forming a new program, repeatedly emailing higher-ups until I could receive approval from someone. Many gave the assumption I wouldn't be able to find a teacher sponsor, but turns out--I have two! And a lot of my growth and gratitude is also dedicated to them, and all those who have helped me achieve what I have achieved. But through all of the qualities I have managed to develop and show, whether or not a person believes those are 'leadership qualifications', I believe what has truly defined me as a leader is my ability to transform challenges into opportunities for growth and connection. Being a leader is not about finding your voice, but about guiding others to theirs and giving them a safe space to do that. As I continue to develop as a leader, I am proud to say that I know with my intention and hard work, I will make a great change.

Throughout my everyday life, I have dedicated a lot of my time to uplifting my peers and giving back to my community. I have been gifted with deep empathy and passion for strangers that not many are given. From cooking quesadillas for my brothers every other day to teaching students how to crochet and donate projects, I put a lot of energy into helping people. Therefore, many people were not surprised to find out I wanted to go into medicine and major in biochemistry with a big goal surrounding it—helping people. Several of my distant family members have lost their lives to medical complications and illnesses, and my mother has faced constant neglect with ongoing severe medical problems that have been misdiagnosed. Her medical problems have always been an enigma to me, but seeing how often she is truly ignored by the medical system has fueled my passion to help those who hit closest to home. I've had to see the woman who raised, fed, and bathed me slowly break down to the extent of needing help for all the things she once did for both of us. Therefore, it is so personal and important to me to be able to support others throughout my career. I don't know if I'll be able to help her in time, but I know many people around the world are also forgotten by the medical system, and I strive to help them in any way I can. Admittedly, I don’t know which specific field of medicine I want to pursue, but with so much anticipated to grow and change throughout college, I already anticipate the experimentation I'll take to know for certain what I want. Realistically as a high school senior, I have no idea what my future will hold, but I do know one thing for certain, and that is my ability to help people. I believe that if I were assigned any purpose for the world, it would be to support and uplift people, and I will do everything in my power to accomplish just that.

I've been a fan of Sabrina Carpenter since her song "Fall Apart", released in 2011. Most aren't familiar. And while it's easy to say that because I've been a fan of her music since the beginning of her career, I must be a true super fan, there's much more depth to it. Watching Carpenter's career grow throughout the years has made an incredible impact on what I feel capable of doing. While most remembered her as the girl from Girl Meets World that seemed 'irrelevant' until a scandal with Joshua Basset, I held her dear to my heart as an artist who I could follow. I enjoyed her ethics, her content, and her genuine personality, and to this day I still do even as she's grown and adapted since she was 14. I had the privilege of meeting her twice during her Eyes Wide Open tour and her EVOlution tour at a water park called Magic Springs. To be able to meet a celebrity, especially as a preteen, kind of helped to tear down a border. She was a real person, in front of me, who had real smiles and real thoughts, and she was real. While it's indisputable that I was in awe both times, she wasn't this almighty entity of perfection. She was real. Thus, establishing that she was real made a massive impact on just my perspective to see opportunity opened to anyone--opened to me. So to see her career begin to explode, her style becoming trademark, and her energy globally loved made such a massive change to me. This can happen to me. I can fight and actually achieve the life I desire, as opposed to feeling like my fights are an endless battle. While I know she'll never perform again at Magic Springs, nor remember my name after the hundreds of thousands of people she's had the opportunity to meet, she will forever be one of the most pivotal artists for me--and not in a pedestal way as many view her, but rather in a perspective, opportunist way.

I have had to watch the most powerful woman I know drastically slow down because of negligence in her medical care. My mother has had undiagnosed severe medical problems essentially my entire life, but especially this past year. It left her in and out of the hospital, and I had to watch her physically decline and crumble. This was a terrible thing to witness, but it fueled a passion and a grit to overcome it. I have always had an interest in the medical field, but the passion roots deeply to be able to help people like my mom. There are so many people in the medical field who are misrepresented and misunderstood and I am determined to shrink those numbers in my career. I am passionate about pursuing a degree in STEM because I believe science has such a genuine depth and I've honestly loved it since I was little. I think the aspects of understanding how life works, chemical reactions through the periodic table, and how you can program a mirrored version of life are all absolutely incredible, and I think it's such an important thing to pursue when you're blessed with that passion; STEM is hard. It's so difficult to understand every aspect, including the undiscovered, but I think that's what makes it so much more beautiful. Those who pursue STEM are gifted with not only a passion and curiosity for life, but a work ethic that is hard to match. I have had to fight for the things that I want, sometimes feeling a bit lonely because it appeared my peers never had the same issues I did. I couldn't join extracurriculars and clubs as a kid, my junior year I had to spend everyday wondering if I'd have power in my room yet, and I've never really had the plans at my place. As we've begun to reach a more stable place as a family, it's glaringly obvious I will have to pay for the entirety of my own education. As I've spent the past year and a half applying to over a hundred scholarships before my senior year begins, it's easy to feel as though the fighting for my education is an endless battle. Despite that idea though, I know that I am capable and I can and will do amazing things for the world, thus I cannot just give up my fight because a few obstacles were thrown in my path. This scholarship could offer as a beacon of hope, evidence that the fight is worth it, and could quickly push me closer to my medical dreams.

I had always felt a weird sense of pressure and tension whenever it came to picking a career. What if I was left unfulfilled, bored, and peaked in my career early on? I think whenever it comes to working in the medical field though, it's the only place I've ever felt certain. As I am about to begin my final year of studies as a high school student, I now know for certain that I want to major in bio medicine. Where I plan to go to medical school isn't necessarily set in stone yet, but that's simply because I desire to do it all. Medicine is this beautifully complex, constantly alive field that allows me to always learn and understand the diversity and importance of people. I adore the concept of helping people, and I cannot wait for the moment that I will know how I'll do that. I know it's a cliche remark, but I want to help people--I desire to create an impact through change. I grew up with a mother who was constantly sick, often in and out of the ER with no medical diagnosis and thrown from doctor to doctor. I'd watched as she slowly became less in control of her own body at 40 years old, and as medical professionals seemed to throw her off to the next person to deal with it. She deserves better, and so many others do too. That is why, whenever I say I want to help the underrepresented in the medical system, it's so much more personal than it sounds. I know what it's like to have that struggle of being a 'bother' to those who are supposed to strive to help you and your family, and for that reason I refuse to become like that in the medical field. I'm not positive if I'll become a clinical doctor specifically, but I do know that I am hellbent to make a positive impact on everyone I encounter on my medical journey.

Look! It's a bird...it's a plane...or my mom? My mom is undoubtedly the biggest supporter I have had in my life. She has managed to be an unwavering pillar of support, shaping my path with her encouragement and guidance. From my childhood when she celebrated my smallest achievements like saying "better" instead of "gooder," to the countless hours we've spent discussing college plans, her presence has been incredibly influential. The loss of my father to cancer just before my third birthday left an indescribable mark on my life. Growing up, I've struggled to really understand his absence and often wondered what he would think of the person I am becoming. His memory merely lives on through stories and photographs, but my mother has been the consistent anchor that has helped me navigate the complexities of life without him. She never allowed me to doubt myself, always reminding me of my strength that sometimes only she could see. Unlike my father, whose aspirations for me are something I'll simply never know, my mother's have been known and unwavering. She has never imposed her own ambitions on me but instead nurtured my passions and encouraged me to pursue my dreams, no matter how ambitious or seemingly unrealistic they may have been at the time. One of the most supportive memories of her was when I walked her through my goals of medicine and my awareness of the turmoil that may come with it, and anticipated her usual line of questioning: "Do you have a reason?" To my surprise, she didn't question my choice but instead aimed to understand the motivations behind it. She recognized that my desire to help others was deeply rooted in my early awareness of my father's illness and its profound impact on our family. As I wrapped my junior year of high school into an end, my ambitions and career aspirations evolved. Despite the uncertainty that accompanies choosing a path, my mother's unwavering support has been my constant source of strength. Her belief in me transcends any doubts I have about the future. She has taught me resilience, perseverance, and the importance of pursuing my passions with dedication and purpose. Looking ahead, I am still committed to making a positive impact on the world, fueled by lessons and values instilled in me by my mother. Whether I ultimately choose to become an oncologist, a clinical doctor, a pharmacist, or a veterinarian, I know that her support will continue to guide me through the challenges and triumphs that lie ahead.

My name is Autumn Goffar, and I am many things; passionate, empathetic, hopeful, but most of all I am curious. Curious about new recipes I can bake with my little brothers, German dishes I can indulge in to feel closer to my Oma, and different ways science intertwines into my day to day life. As an upcoming first generation college student, I feel a lot of intense pressure on my shoulders. Eyes watching, waiting to insist they always knew I was incapable from the start. However, I am determined to prove that I know what I am capable of, and the dreams put in my heart were placed there for a reason. In these dreams, I have found that the most powerful way to reach them is through education. When we truly take the time to step back and think, education is the body of life. While I have struggled to know what one thing I want to study, it is simply because I crave knowledge. I want the opportunity to not only understand what neurological symptoms require a medication such as amitriptyline, but also the chemical components used to synthesize it. I am aware that being a woman in STEAM will be an incredibly hard journey, but I want to take the gift of education and use it as a shield rather than a weapon for generations to come. I yearn to bring hope to those who feel overlooked in medicine, and to ultimately contribute to a world where healthcare is more inclusive, treatments are more accessible, and every individual—regardless of background or identity—can receive the care and attention they deserve. What fascinates me about STEAM is its potential to revolutionize healthcare and improve lives worldwide . I have such a genuine passion for understanding the advancements in biomedical chemistry, like for instance, how it can create advanced medical devices that completely change surgical procedures. That is an incredible concept to me that I strive to not only understand but to build on. How can we quickly respond to misunderstood aspects of medicine? How can we assure someone is given the life they deserve, pain-free? These questions, and just STEAM itself is this massive window of opportunity; I feel STEAM is only left undiscovered by those who are afraid of new. This fear is what sparks the true creativity to make change or settle for staying exactly the same.

Reflecting on my accomplishments, a particular achievement stands out: establishing a Crochet Club at my high school. I know this didn't involve 200,000 dollars or a 7 foot trophy, but before my accomplishment is oversimplified, please understand this was much deeper than just starting a service and art club; it represented overcoming significant challenges and realizing my potential to make a difference. Coming from a first-generation, low-income background, I faced challenges that were often misunderstood. Unlike many of my peers, I couldn’t participate in sports or easily access extracurricular activities, which developed social isolation and discomfort. I’d somehow convinced myself throughout almost my entire school career that I was incapable. It wasn’t until my junior year that I finally seized an opportunity to create something meaningful. The process of founding the Crochet Club was a daunting, though incredible experience. It required meticulous planning, countless meetings with administrators, and the mental capacity to learn how to socialize in a professional context constantly. When I received the confirmation email that the Crochet Club was approved and operational, I swelled with a sense of pride and accomplishment, much further than I’d ever expected to be about such a simple thing. But I realized rapidly that this was beyond just the planning hurdles, this journey taught me essential lessons in perseverance, organization, and the power of community engagement. It demonstrated my capability and passion for change, to the extent that I was not willing to let it remain just another fleeting daydream, and I am grateful to have had and gained the support I did throughout the process of starting. Moving forward with this club into my last year of high school, I will extend its community outreach efforts. By December 2024, our goal is to contribute over 100 crocheted projects to local hospitals under the initiative 'Crochet4Care'. The creation of this club may be my greatest achievement so far, but it’s just the beginning. My future aspirations involve expanding far past just the means of my small town and throughout the entire state of Arkansas, through newspaper articles, media establishment, and an official website for the cause. The lessons I've learned from this simple process will be the essential stepping stones to developing something of a state-wide charity with the right support. However, the heavy financial limitations that still follow me, coming from my low-income background, present a significant mountain to climb toward these goals. This scholarship would not only allow financial relief towards my college education, but allow me to grow closer to this cause, and hopefully someday expand to a thriving charity far past my graduation date. Overall, founding the Crochet Club wasn’t just about starting a club—it was about proving to myself and others that with determination and resilience, even the most ambitious goals can be achieved. It reinforced my belief in the power of initiative and community involvement, shaping my future goals. I have managed to realize my own potential, as much more than just a girl who can graduate with high honors, but as a girl who can leave a lasting print on my home despite my own burdens I've had to overcome. Winning this opportunity would affirm my efforts and dedication, and launch my future endeavors.

In a world of complexities, what is left but to read through the emotion we cannot understand? Picture a girl with inconsistent emotion, 'sensitive' and 'crybaby' her earliest nicknames. The only outlet she'd ever found true comfort in was artistic expression. This is the fate of so many, yet we are often shamed for finding these ways to understand ourselves. In the world, I want to prove many things, but especially that women are allowed to be reckless, messy, and imperfect. We are not born to be perfect, yet societal standards have grown to control what we believe we can do. I strive to prove to young and older women alike that we can be who we desire to be. We can mess up, we can mourn, we can hope. We are so much more than a cookie cutter standard, and we are capable of incredible things, so through my poetry I want to share this. I want to prove to the world that being a woman in society today is a beautiful, incredible thing. And through my work, and my community efforts, I know I will be able to make some sort of change in the world and perception of what we are 'allowed' to do.

For most, a house becomes a home when it provides stability and security. Biologically speaking, we're predisposed to trust where we spend time and allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Looking back on my junior year of high school though, I wasn't really lucky enough to feel that comfort at all. During this time my mother was constantly sick and hospitalized, necessitating months of unpaid leave from work, while our home frequently experienced power outages for days at a time. However, despite these constant adversities, I remained committed to fulfilling my responsibilities. No aspect was easy. Honestly, I think the concept of ease is often misguided. Balancing schoolwork, clubs, college preparation, and providing emotional support to my family felt like an uphill battle every day. However, I refused to succumb to despair. Instead, I relied on my resilience and determination to persevere. One of the most vital lessons I learned during this is how to become adaptable. When I was younger, flexibility wasn't typically a requirement for survival, but it rapidly became such. I was pressured to realize I couldn't control the things happening around me, and I had to accept whatever harsh reality I may or may not wake up to, but I could control how I reacted to them. Understanding this was vital in beginning necessary change and building enough courage to become versatile. Throughout the year, I also had to rely heavily on support systems. Losing my sense of security at home, I was blindsided by a loss of direction, and I wouldn't have been able to succeed without those who stood by me. Teachers, coaches, and friends alike provided consistent patience and unwavering encouragement, offering a sense of support I could always lean on. In my most challenging moments, my closest friend was a constant source of support. She would take me out, offer me rides, and invite me for dinner at her place when I was too overcome by the fear of returning home to something else going wrong. I was fortunate to have multiple sources of support, with many people believing in me and aiding in my recovery. I am immensely grateful for her and all the others who stood by me. Additionally, my own mother's struggles were such a strong factor in what I was capable of learning and accomplishing. It was undoubtedly difficult to see my main support system for the past 16 years taken down by consistent and unresolved issues. But to that same extent, despite her struggles, she remained determined to provide for our family and ensure that we never lost hope. Her constant courage and ability to push through some of the most misunderstood things taught me the importance of perseverance and instilled in me a passionate belief that no obstacle is insurmountable. In retrospect, I wouldn't say that I would've chosen the challenges I faced over some sort of easier alternative, but I am truly grateful for what I experienced and the strength it helped me discover within myself. I was pushed far beyond my comfort zone, encountered deeper limitations, and made it through to the other side with a new sense of passion and growth. Today, I have the confidence that I can overcome any obstacle that comes in my direction.

I hate the way I adore movies from the 1990s. But mostly, I hate the way I don't hate them. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. Many quote the 90s as a peak for the film industry in terms of 'chick flicks' and teen films, and whether it's a bad thing or not, I fully agree. But of every movie I've had the privilege to watch, '10 things I Hate About You' has without a doubt left the biggest change in my life. '10 Things I Hate About You' follows a vibrant and popular high schooler named Bianca, with an abrasive older sister Kat, who's viewed as loud and lonely. While Bianca is interested in dating, her parents don't allow her to date until Kat gets a boyfriend which leads to an elaborate plan. Of course, some cliche elements of the movie don't exactly mirror my own life, but the beginning alone resonates so deeply with how I've felt throughout almost the entirety of my school career. The constant ridicule and misled judgement seems to be a common factor in and out of movies that generally most teenagers can agree on, if they're not blessed enough to be a part of the cliques. Judgement was something that really controlled what I allowed myself to do for an extremely long time, often influencing my actions, and how I let myself feel and interact with people around me. Seeing this character who was loud, rude, incredibly smart, thought out and so unashamed of it genuinely made me feel so discovered and understood and gave me the confidence to begin being myself. Another element throughout is of course romance. Patrick, the character that's hired to "date Kat", begins to develop a connection with her and actually puts forth this effort to understand who she is, and as any good 90s movie does, of course develops a proper romance between the two. Akin to any person who grows up on 90s movies and feels misunderstood, the idealism of finding love is romanticized, literally. But above just the simple heartache that any viewer feels, having related to the main character makes the concept of feeling like you're allowed to be loved possible. For the young girl who couldn't be understood, didn't receive attention from boys, always felt somewhat of a disappointment, to see a true form of effort and love towards a girl who was proudly embracing herself, it felt freeing. In fact, it felt like some promise was given to me that some day I would find somebody who was willing to understand the side of me that I would be reluctant to show. All in all, 10 Things I Hate About You was genuinely such an impacting movie not just for me, but for every Kat Stratford out there.

My relationship with Christ, on the surface, is newly discovered. I wasn't raised in devout environments, with a quietly Christian mother and agnostic step father. But, a relationship with Christ, in the simplest metaphor, is something akin to musical chairs. A moment of anticipation, knowing soon the music will stop but not quite knowing when, and the decision of whether or not you sit down or leave is presented. Suffering from severe anxiety my entire life, I have always known that eventually the music would stop again. But the decision I had to learn to make was to step out and reach out to Christ just as he'd reached out to me, and it was in Matthew 6:34 that I had felt so much validation that I was being led to my faith with Christ because I'd been introduced to a new feeling of peace I'd never been granted before. "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." It takes so much courage to put out your faith for Jesus, in a world of hate and fear. But through every round of musical chairs, no matter how many times I fought to get a seat knowing I'd be eventually stuck in a circle of fear of what I'll lose again, he waited for me. Because of that, I can truthfully say his patience and love for me has grown my faith so deeply. It's allowed me to appreciate and understand a life where he is present even if I'm not, and because of that I have promised myself I will hold a presence that can lead them to him. Whenever I am working through my higher educational journey, I fear eventually I may stray back to a chair, waiting for the music to stop, but I know through the truest faith that he will not forget me. He will not abandon me, and he will continue to allow me to grow and continue to give me opportunities to share the word. And with that in mind, I truly hope that I am given as many opportunities as possible to guide people to him as others have for me, because I understand better than anybody that whatever hypothetical game you may be trapped in, whether it be chess in a constant battle of wrong or right or monopoly with a constant forward march, it can be suffocating. But taking a chance on your faith and your relationship with Christ will always serve as the oxygen.

I'm a committed and diligent 17 year old girl within the STEM community, fueled by a devotion for assisting others through medicine and activism. Being an engaged member of my school's Women in STEM Club and Robotics, I've had the opportunity to see how awful my peers, including myself, are treated because they're women. I've been harassed, dehumanized, and even referred to as 'just pretty enough to give up'. Though, at some point, through all of this disgusting mistreatment, I came to a realization: Women are still fighting for a seat at the table. While we do have blessed opportunities that many generations did not have, in many states such as Arkansas, women still spend their lifetimes fighting to prove they're enough. I, however, am not buying into the narrative that this battle is just obligatory for women. In retaliation, I’ve encouraged my female peers to use their voices, created environments where people are valued as equal, and fueled enthusiasm for STEM in everyday scenarios. Though honestly, when it comes to the idealism of deciding 'one thing' I must do for the rest of my life, that seems inadequate. I have several different aspirations, varying from a veterinarian who pursues her passion to help animals, to a chemist designing drugs that allow change, or even a patent lawyer protecting the rights to the pharmaceutical industry. Regardless of what specific career I decide to pursue, I want to help people, rebuild the world with a scientific perspective, and prove that we do not need to hold power over one another to grow. I yearn for a world that can remember the women before us who were only given permission to one destiny, because now we are blessed to have several. Moving forward, STEM is an infinite pool of opportunity. In every aspect, it captures my excitement because there is so much within the field that is constantly growing, nothing forced to stone. As a high school senior, I have to consider ACT scores in order to know what I’ll have access to in my future, and with an exceptionally high score, I have a wide variety of opportunity. Except my lowest score, in math. While others advised me to concentrate on the other subjects to meet their maximum potential and settle for ‘an above average score’, I chose to collect books, practice exams, and study sessions with a pure dedication toward repairing my knowledge of math. Mathematics is, admittedly, one of my worst subjects, but allows me to constantly push myself in new ways. Technology, however, is not my worst category. While I don’t plan on majoring in Informational Technology, I can say through my understanding of computer science, and a plan to assist in tech throughout my final year of Robotics, I understand the dedication and software involved in order to help the world through technology. I think through tech, it truly emphasizes in real time how big of an impact STEM leaves on society, and how much depth STEM holds as a general subject. If I were to pursue IT, I would use my knowledge to address problems, and solve them through practical software. In terms of my greatest battle, I pose a question: How many times have you left for school, curious if you’d have a safe place and family to return to? Significantly throughout my junior year, my mother became riddled with numerous unidentified illnesses, and was in and out of the hospital for months while my step father continuously threatened to leave us. All at the same time, our trailer-home was degrading underneath our feet, and we couldn’t afford to do anything about it. I had to approach some of the most unideal situations, trapped even when I was free. I was under the impression that I was destined to have a negative heart. Life would only ever spit on me, take away the spirit I had, abuse me until a peaceful rest. Thanks to my experiences, though, I’ve pushed to overcome this idea. Yes, I’ve had to deal with financial issues, yes I’ve had to fear for the wellbeing of my mother, and yes I’ve been mistreated in STEM environments. But just as well, yes, I’ve persevered through it all. I’ve grown dramatically in academics, excelling more than ever in the past, dedicated time to understand robotics, an organization I’ve had no prior education in, and have proven capable of watering the growth of my family and I's well being. My past was not always what I’d consider to be a first choice, but it holds no power over where I’ll end up, and I would not dream of giving away what has allowed me to appreciate STEM in its truest depth: the heart of innovation and lungs of hope.

Losing my father, especially at such a young age, wasn't easy. Any essay being read today will say the same. The loss of a parent or significant guardian is one of the most draining and complex losses. It's the one thing, I believe, that any person can collapse onto the ground in tears over, and pick themselves up right after. Whether you're too young to remember them, never getting the chance to build a bond with someone who adored you over the moon, or whether you lose them at any older age and remorse over the memories. There's no initial softening to the blow of that loss. Personally, I was in the former situation. Sometimes I feel entirely discredited at the fact I lost my father because he died the day before my third birthday. I feel as though I'm not even really allowed to mourn him. I've been bullied in school for it, gotten into arguments with my mom over it. No aspect of it is easy, but overtime, I've grown to believe I should be allowed to mourn. Even if it's not directly mourning a memory, it's the lack of. It's the fact he was only 23, with a bright future ahead of him abruptly taken away. It's the fact that I'll never quite feel that connection with a fatherly figure. It's the fact that any story with us together is being told by another, and not held within my own heart or memory. And, truthfully, that kills me to think about. It's so beyond unfair, you don't tend to think you'll abruptly lose someone, especially at such a youthful age. Throughout my life, though, I've often seen this loss reflect on my relationships with people. I've recognized the fact that conversation about parents always makes me subconsciously uncomfortable. I've realized that I tend to have complex relationships with boys in my life, not because of personality aspects but because of this subconscious fear. I often have to avoid the thought of death or cancer altogether because it all scares me to the extent that I spiral into anxiety, and it makes me feel sick. There's so many aspects and sensitive topics, and I hate to think people have to watch their words around me, but there's so many different parts of my life that have shaped me and how I feel and think about things. I know that for a long time my mom and I's relationship suffered due to it, but as we've grown has led to us being significantly closer over this bond. I know that for a long time I dreaded seeing my grandma because I knew she'd talk about how much I looked and sounded like my dad, but as I've grown I realize it's just the fact that I'm the last picture she has of him. Losing my father, especially at such a young age, wasn't easy.

I am not a stranger to the battles with the demons of poor mental health, like most people. In fact, to some extent, I believe that at everyone's lowest moments, these voices mask themselves as your only friend. And for a very long time, I listened to that voice whispering that I wasn't worth anything. Sometimes, even today, I allow myself to be deceived. But, I believe that I can confidently type in this essay that I do have a worth and these whispers that flood my mind fear me more than I have feared them because they know I have an indomitable soul without them. All of these things aside, the influence of my mental health has drastically changed my life at a strong and constant rate. I will never live a day where I do not feel the weight of my mental 'issues', but I will also never live a day where I don't have reminders of how far I've grown as a person. Overall, when I was younger I was a person without religious beliefs, inconsistent morals, poor relationships with friends and family, and plans to end my life after high school graduation. Now, at sixteen, having only completed a small fraction of my lifetime so far, I have a lot to show for my growth. I have an inconsistent but growing relationship with god which I can often find comfort in, knowing that there is a plan above my own. I will no longer be the type of person to judge another for their religion, as I did when I was an atheist. This was influenced the most by my mental health when I was screaming and crying, begging for something higher than me to save me, and I was met by the comforting voice of religion, which would later be one of the factors that saved my life. I also hold stronger morals and boundaries that I have grown over time whenever being more self-aware of what leads me to my lowest points. Continuing, one of the biggest factors that I will preach saved my life forever is my family. Losing friends, especially in mass situations out of your control, is beyond draining but also inevitable at times. I would gladly take the opportunity to grow, but nobody, no matter how healthy, appreciates the feeling of being utterly alone. And that's when I started to appreciate family far more. I recognized the fact that they didn't have to be present in my life but chose to and that while there were rough patches, everyone experienced that. I recognized the fact that these people had forgiven me countless times before for the biggest mistakes, that even if they could have issues of their own, I could find it in my heart to forgive them just as they had to me. Finally, the last point I want to make is my career aspirations and how this scholarship can continue to help me grow into a stronger person. As I stated, I believed I would end my life at the age of 18 after my high school graduation. I couldn't explain to you what the mindset was specifically, but I know it's something I was set on. But after a lot of time and patience, I've got plans and goals for myself that are far past just making good money. I want to help people. I don't know specifically how yet, and I'm sure it's a cliche thing to say, but all I know is what truly makes me the happiest is helping people.

I have had a strong, first-hand experience of loss throughout my life. From being nearly three(3) years old and losing my dad, to shortly after losing my papa at five(5), there was never a point in my life that loss wasn't a familiarity. However, at age fourteen(14), in the year 2021, I felt the impact of a loss to a truly deep extent for the first time. And that loss was my 'nana', also known as my mom's mom. Most often, the loss of a grandparent isn't seen as strongly as a guardian or sibling would be, which is something I find to be indisputable. I can't argue that the loss of my dad has been a lifelong hard-to-swallow concept, however simply put, I never had the honor or dishonor to know him, and while I feel the weight of the lack of my father, up until my nana passed in 2021, I had only ever felt the weight of the label and role they played in my life, rather than who they truly were. And whenever I had lost her I finally recognized death in the perspective of who she truly was. It was far deeper than 'I don't have a grandma' because I do technically have grandmas. But no grandmas, or people in general, in my lifetime will ever be as great and crazy as she. My nana would defend me when my mom would be stubborn or close-minded about concepts, even if she did not agree with what I had to say myself. She would make the world's best homemade chicken soup and sauerkraut (not together though), and while her smoker voice may not have been as soft and lulling as it was pre-addiction, it was a voice I allowed myself to find comfort in time after time. She would sew countless trinkets for me, and even made me one of my favorite blankets to this day, with my favorite cartoon character Spongebob, and my favorite shade of blue. The feeling of losing her is something that I often try to avoid, because maybe if I forget that she's gone, she'll still be here. But I know within my heart that what she wants the most for me is to excel in life. She wanted, more than anything, for me to be successful and never find myself reliant on a man or relationship. She never wanted me to financially struggle in the ways she had to. That being said, while it's hard for me to imagine the truth in the fact that she's gone, I know for a fact that she watches over me, and I know she would be nothing less than amazed by the work I can dedicate myself to as I've grown as a person throughout the past two years. I have grown to be more perseverant, and I have grown to be a more goal-oriented person as opposed to the person I was years ago, demotivated and drained. I strive to fight for what I want out of myself and my life for me and my grandma because I know she'd be beyond proud of me if I were to succeed in life in all the ways I strive to.

I intend to be a first-generation college student. My mother had the opportunity to go to college and even had an acceptance letter coming in from Cornell, however, could not afford to reach that point. I often remember her telling me this story whenever the question of college arises. What opportunities will I be given that she wasn't? Will I suffer the same fate of a missed opportunity that's right in my grasp? This all leads back to the simple question of what I plan to do with a college degree anyway. Truthfully, I have a variety of passions I'm debating between at the moment. I adore science, animals, and the concept of helping people which has me leaning myself into the medical field. Just as equally though, I adore writing cases and giving argumentative speeches which has me leaning myself into law. But even more so, I also find myself excelling in English and public speaking which makes me consider working as a News Anchor or writer. All of these considerations are widely different, and truthfully I don't think they'd be capable of being grouped into one specific category of interest. However, with still well over a year and a half left of my high school experience, I know eventually I will discover what pulls me the most, and I will manage to live my life happily, considering all things. So all of that information in mind, how could this scholarship truly help me? Keeping in mind the fact that my mom is more than likely one of the hardest-working people I have known, nothing about her not going to college stems from the fact that she was 'too lazy'. She had goals and passions, and even almost went to a community college, but conflicting factors such as abusive relationships, home life, and most of all financial compensation stole all of that work she'd put in. Today, she finds herself to be a well-off store manager at a pharmacy, but I can't help but consider the fact that our lives would be so different if she had an opportunity like this. Would she have become the successful psychiatrist of her dreams? Would she be more fulfilled in her life? Would we ever have to worry about money in the same way we do now? I believe she finds a passion in leading her team, and at what she does, but she would feel more passion elsewhere I'll never know. Whilst she is not as restless of a soul, and at a point of contentness in her life, I know that I am not. I have always found myself asking what-ifs, even over simple questions. So my what if, to present to anybody reading this essay today, is, what if you allowed a first-generation student to reach the goals her mother never could, and cannot give to her? What if you allow a first-generation student the capability of reaching goals and contentedness in life, not in greed but in passion?

In June of 2021, I lost my nana. I had 'experienced' plentiful family deaths leading to that point, however often did not have a strong enough bond established, like losing my dad at the age of three before having the opportunity to create any memories with him. That being said, the loss of my nana was probably one of the heaviest deaths I have experienced to this day. Whenever I'd initially been told that she had cancer, I truthfully wasn't worried. Up until that point she had had several near-death experiences and the idea that she was truly sick this time was hard to believe. Regardless, my mom took this seriously and we went on a sixteen-hour road trip to see her in Michigan. On the way to this lurking doom, my mom got a phone call that within just the ten hours we had been on the road, Nana had taken a turn for the worst. I remember hiding in a bedroom crying, even if the idea sounds odd that I'd be avoiding her during her limited time left. My mom came to me and convinced me to spend the valuable time I had with her, and the day she died will forever live in my mind as a vivid memory. She was sent to homebound hospice, and the memory of hesitantly grabbing her hands sometimes replays. She asked me why I was scared of her, in her typical humorous mannerisms, and I told her that I loved her. She told me, "I love you too. Always have, always will." And the next day she was gone. The simple retelling of such a personal story is enough to make my hands shake and my eyes water all over again just as it had been all those many months ago. This entire experience reshaped the way I viewed life and death to such a drastic level, and I often forget that what I experienced permanently changed my line of thought. This experience helped me realize the harsh reality that life does eventually come to an end and reminded me of the morality all things alike face. It helps as a reminder in my day to day to appreciate the small things in life that most wouldn't initially think to appreciate. Every sunset and sunrise will be worthy of a moment of silence, every pretty scene I see is worth the gasp of life, the small moments that I'm alone to talk to Jesus, and the chance to practice patience and let go of anger. I am given these opportunities and reminded of the fact that while my nana may no longer be with me, she will forever be with me in spirit and I feel terribly sorry for anyone who didn't get the chance to meet such a crazy and caring woman.

Success, to me, is to be honored enough to spend my days surrounded by the rewards of my hard work and the things I feel the most passionate about. At the risk of sounding pretentious, my ideology of success is far more than the simplicity of a hefty salary. Of course, everyone appreciates money, and I imagine that having a stable income that gives me freedom would undoubtedly make me feel more successful. However, money does not buy love, happiness, or sentiment. Money is the equivalent of wealth, but not always achievement. At ten years old, I was convinced that being successful meant being a famous pop star working alongside Taylor Swift. And, while I would still consider that to be success, my standards have changed a bit. Now, at sixteen I am torn between my different passions and morals. I adore writing and being a member of my high school's debate and forensics team, but I just as well adore science and helping those who need it. I hate to be a part of the 'cookie cutter' expectation of a career, but truthfully I feel the most gravitation towards either law or medicine. However, only time will truly determine if this is what my soul needs. And in my outlook, if I am to discover and pursue whatever that may be, I will have success. Because success is deeper than a summer home in Colorado, or a future Harvard-bound daughter, success is the ability to say that you feel passion and joy in your life, even with the inevitable ups and downs. This opportunity that's offered by bold.org, as well as Chris and Mary Carnduff has the capability of helping me reach this success ideology. To earn a scholarship of this sort, I would be allowed to get some of the monetary requirements of my goals toward success met. I find that the biggest factor that holds so many back in life is financial, and if I were granted this opportunity to overcome this burden, I would more clearly discover what it is that my spirit desires. At the moment, I may be running in the dark. I would even go so far as to say that there may be plenty of more deserving people if they have a stronger outlook on their lives. But I find myself to be deserving because I crave to find this passion that others may have been blessed to discover sooner and I know I contain the perseverance and adaptive skills that are required to have success in life. At this stage, being a junior in high school, I feel as though I am expected to be one of those people who has a level head at what I want, and if I don't yet, I might never. But, I am certain of at least one thing. I want to find joy, both for myself and others, and as the strong, persistent person that I am, I know eventually I will figure out how to reach the success that I deserve.

My biggest overall support system has always been my mother. From giving me a cookie for learning to say better instead of 'gooder', to spending hours talking about college, my mother has always been an aid in my education. My dad died on May 16th, 2010, the day before my third birthday, after a battle with stage 4 brain, liver, lung, and kidney cancer. It was a concept I couldn't understand for a long time. The only 'memories' I get to have are through the pictures and stories of others, no experiences or credibility. I've lived to hear the phrase over and over "He'd be so proud of you", and the question often arises of if he would be. Would he be proud of where I'm at? Did he ever have the chance to think that far away? He never got to imagine me with long hair, how could he ever imagine me with a degree? That being said, my mom has never let me live a day where I lowballed. I will never know how much my dad aspired for me, but I will never be capable of forgetting how much my mom aspires for me. She's never been the type to implement her dreams or goals unto me, seeing as we are vastly different people in terms of passions and mental capacity. But she has also never been the type to belittle things I aspired to do, even when my main goal in life was to become Taylor Swift's backup dancer. All she needed was to know why. She had to know that I had a reason, a passion, and a goal, and she would proceed to support me to the ends of the earth. It's hard to forget the moment when I came to her saying I wanted to be in the medical field. Considering the amount of financial support necessary, I knew that would raise the question she'd always ask. "Do you have a reason?" I told her it was because I wanted to help people or animals. I aspired to make a difference in the world overall. She didn't bother asking about my passions, because she knew what it stemmed from. She knew that the eventual awareness of my dad's situation was something I struggled to stop thinking about. It shouldn't have been a surprise I had this want. Still, she asked me "How are you [going to] do this?" and I was at a stopping point. How would I help? Even as I write this, I question how I'm going to benefit the world. Will I be an oncologist who constantly works to fight cancer? Will I be a clinical doctor, will I be a pharmacist, will I be a veterinarian? I'm a quarter through my junior year, somehow more lost on what I want to do with my life than I was freshman year. I aspire to make a positive change even if I do not know what that change is yet, and with the push of my mom, I know one day I will.

In May 2023, about a week before my sixteenth birthday, I attempted suicide with various medications. I was struggling to feel like I was worth anything at the time, something I'd often dealt with in the past but it felt especially suffocating at this time. I felt like all my 'friends' had hated me. I felt like god was mad at me. I felt like I'd let ultimately everyone in my life down. Like a waste of space. That night, my mom and I got into a severely heated argument. I remember it as the first time she'd ever threatened me, which was something she'd always been against. My mother suffers from similar mental issues to mine and has always acted as a support system, even if our emotional health is based on different shortcomings. She has been capable of being a lighthouse while I've struggled to properly cope with the death of my dad, and the poor relationship with her new husband. So, when we struggle to see eye to eye, I feel more alone than anything. That night, she'd said things to me that I could retell vividly if it didn't make me feel sick to my spine. I, of course, said terrible things too, which just as equally haunt me. But I remember it felt like everything had come crashing down at once, a mixture of panic, anger, confusion, but most of all fear. Just like that, I knew I wanted out. I'd attempted various times before, but it was no longer a cry for help, it was an escape; I didn't just want out, I needed out. Then, by the next morning, when I should've been indulging in school breakfast and laughing about something I could not care less about, I was instead being admitted to a mental hospital. That forever changed the relationship I had with my mom. One could argue it weakened us, but I think to some extent it left a sense of silent strength that we are both still breathing today for a reason. I think it is something we share pain in and I think it is something that will stick with both of us until the end of our times. It was just a few words; I often tell myself it was just a few words. Just a few swift actions of a pill bottle and everything was different. I was one of the lucky ones, and I often try to remember that when I bitterly go back to the reminder that on my sweet sixteen, I was surrounded by nothing more than strangers. After that moment, everything changed in my mind ultimately. After understanding empathy and sympathy to a new level I'd never been capable of before, feeling things I should have never had to feel, I developed a new curiosity about life. A new passion for life and new beginnings. A newborn goal to help those around me more than I'd ever wanted or been capable of before. But what I felt the strongest was hope. That said, just because I developed hope towards life, doesn't mean I left the institute 'cured'. Because something I've learned is that being mentally unwell is not something that can be 'cured'. You cannot wake up one day immune to the common cold, just as you cannot wake up one day immune to a depressive episode. I have found, even as I type this essay out today, that these thoughts that I run from or face will remain with me in this millennium and the next. There's no reason to insist that this writing is going to inspire those struggling. That 'the battle will be over and everything will work out.' All that I can properly convey in this essay is what I have learned over time. And what I have learned is that mental health is a battle. One with peace, war, and "has it already been an hour?" therapy sessions. A battle where sometimes you're overprotected, draped in steel with swords taller than yourself. But, just as easily a battle where you're left in the hallowed ground with nothing but a tank top and leggings. Mental health is not something, however, that should be feared. These battles are never fun. They are not easy or entertaining. But these battles will never suddenly cease to continue, and truly all we can do is build ourselves up. On some days, that seems impossible. Some days it truly is. Some days there is nothing more we can do than sit in a corner and cry. And eventually, we have to find it in ourselves to allow that. Just because we lose a battle does not mean we will lose the war. A simple analogy but one that I've found to be powerful as I've grown. Because I have lost several battles so far and will continue to lose more. But I have not lost the war, and just as well, I will never convert my regard for those who have. The injurious feelings that have been felt since my attempt often coexist in my mind with everyday thoughts. Nothing about what happened is normal. Yet nothing about what happened is abnormal either. And personally, that's something that disconcerts me. The fact that socially we have convinced ourselves suicide is not an issue when so many people suffer yearly and it continues to be proven over and over again. I have shared my perspectives on relationships and how my attempt essentially changed the way I view life. However, my overall understanding of the world and mental health is still something I manage to learn more about every day. It is the fluid motion of life that will not soon cease to flow, and I will continue to conquer these relentless concepts day to day.

Lost. A feeling I, amongst many, have felt. In the slim amount of time I have managed to live so far on this earth, I have learned many things. But none of those things will ever compete with the discovery of my lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I was never raised on religion, not because my parents were against it, but rather because they, too, have often been lost. When life steals everything from you, you don't have much room to feel anything but lost. Though, without a doubt in my heart, when I truly began to accept Jesus, I felt nothing short of found. I have always suffered from severe anxiety, though it's masked itself in different ways as I've grown. However, it's immeasurable to recall the first time I went to church, not just to smile and fit in, but to belong. To feel, and to want. For the first time in sixteen years of living, I didn't feel scared, paranoid, or fragile. I felt like I had found a place of peace. I felt as though I'd finally escaped the never-ending black hole of my mind. I often reminisce about the fact that small experiences and items have changed the way my life has moved, but the first time I'd ever felt in the eyes of Jesus Christ is above all. I was in the middle of a church, surrounded by all of my peers, all these people who I wanted to fit in with. But as the service continued, and I gave my full mind and time to the moment, I broke down into tears. Oftentimes, I don't prefer to break down, let alone in front of my peers whom, a matter of five minutes ago, I wanted more than anything to impress. But suddenly, 'worldly things' felt like just that. Worldly things. I felt a sense of protection and a shield away from these pains that never seemed to yield. The ability to feel this freedom from socially based situations and pressures was the most freeing moment I've ever felt. Accepting Jesus Christ into my heart is something I still pursue and learn day by day. I crave to learn how I can be better for him and my future and my family, things he is all-knowing of. I no longer feel these suffocating pressures and I allow him to guide me through my journey. To bring me through what I am meant to go through. I've found not only peace with the loss of my dad but comfort in the fact that he's in the hands of our savior now. This only leads me to a question I play through my mind consistently. How do I help lead people to this feeling of safety? How do I save people from these asphyxiating thoughts that I have been through and still struggle with? I will never pretend that accepting Jesus into my heart erased the mental battles I have. But something I often actively try to stress to those who are struggling just as I was, is that it will not get better sitting and waiting for change. I will continue to advise them to pray, read the bible, and spend time talking about Jesus. I will continue to pray for my loved ones, or the ambulance trucks passing by. I will continue to convince my peers that painting and reading the bible in the park is more fun than drinking or partying. I will continue to do what I can for Jesus Christ, just as he has done for me.

Look back at the feeling of being out of state for the first time. An unfamiliar place, sixteen hours away from your comfortable bed, which you just know is covered in soft blankets yelling out your name. Instead, you're so far away from familiarity, that you somehow find yourself underdressed for the weather. Well, that's how I felt, as a southern girl confused as to why someone would ever need such layered clothing during October. The only thing capable of healing the ignominy I'd felt, and the rawness of a Michigan fall was none other than a hot pumpkin spice latte. I've found that this simple and sweet taste of fall has impacted every autumn I've experienced since that point. It may seem over the top or dramatic, but being in such an unfamiliar destination, the mix of pumpkin and cinnamon somehow made everything feel still. Calm, even. Even to this day, the tang of ginger and nutmeg always finds a way to leave the same thought imprinted in my mind: home. Overall, the iconic drink has found a way into every fall I've experienced at one point or another. Whether it be during a warm study session, a deep talk with friends about where college will lead us, or even a quick coffee run to congratulate my friend on her acceptance letter to the University of Arkansas, the pumpkin spice latte will always hold a depth in my life. Through any event in the fall, if I can label it as a milestone, I have to go celebrate with a bubbly pumpkin drink in hand. And without a doubt in my soul, I would be proud to spend every harvest celebrating with the drink. It has helped comfort me through times when I couldn't find comfort in the bittersweet words of my peers. It has helped comfort me through times when I felt I was not capable of feeling comfort. This liquid, while just a sugary mixture of milk and coffee beans, will forever be something I find peace in. Admittedly, I don't often avow to that fact, as no one understands the depth of a cup of sweetened java, but I have managed to learn over time that the comfort I find is not made for my peers, but rather for myself. The comfort in small things like a hot pumpkin spice latte is something I am allowed to feel. The sweet reminder that this simple drink can bring so much joy into my life is just another refresher that no matter what happens, I will find home and comfort. I will forever be thankful for the character that this warm pick-me-up has played. Something as insignificant as a drink gives me the power to feel safe even when the best advice or warmest hug cannot. This drink, albeit a heavy penny, will forever remind me that I can and will be okay.