Most people have heard about post-traumatic stress (PTSD), at some point in their life. But its counterpart, post-traumatic growth, is widely lesser known. Growing up with brain cancer, I've had intimate experiences with both. After a craniotomy to resect my tumor, I began therapy sessions at my local cancer center. The psychologist there helped me through the more difficult side of a cancer diagnosis: the mental strain. After a few months, she introduced me to the concept of post-traumatic growth. I, being newly 18, had never heard of it but was immediately interested. After my primary treatment, and several months of respite, I had an innate urge to connect with others who had shared my experiences. I started volunteering with a local foundation, called Landon's Light, which supports children with severe medical illnesses, like cancer. I instantly felt uplifted by witnessing the joy that communities can bring to those who are facing such discouraging battles. Even though I went through the disgustingly brutal experience of having brain cancer, I realized that my experience could not be whittled down to negative impacts alone. Everything changed because of my diagnosis, but I never could have imagined the growth that could become of it. I grew into the type of person who saw the light in even the darkest of situations. Brain cancer took so many things away from me. From having surgery during my senior homecoming football game to robbing my 12-year-old self of hope. But brain cancer also gave me something in return. It gave me a fighting spirit and a calling to help others. After college, I hoped to become a certified child life specialist (CCLS) in a pediatric oncology unit. Child life specialists are miracle workers within a hospital. They supply so many valuable resources to a child going through treatment and survivorship. Since my tumor went undiagnosed for five years, and I didn’t have surgery until age 17, I hope to become a CCLS to be the person I needed as a kid. To be the person to comfort my pain, ease my worry, and educate me about my diagnosis. When I was little, I was afraid I would never be able to get a job because my head hurt too bad, or I would get sick too often. Now, despite the countless migraines, vision loss, and muscle pain, I can become the hero and someone else's story. I can become a force for good to combat the evil that is childhood cancer.

Most people have heard about post-traumatic stress (PTSD), at some point in their life. But its counterpart, post-traumatic growth, is widely lesser known. Growing up with brain cancer, I've had intimate experiences with both. After a craniotomy to resect my tumor, I began therapy sessions at my local cancer center. The psychologist there helped me through the more difficult side of a cancer diagnosis: the mental strain. After a few months, she introduced me to the concept of post-traumatic growth. I, being newly 18, had never heard of it but was immediately interested. After my primary treatment, and several months of respite, I had an innate urge to connect with others who had shared my experiences. I started volunteering with a local foundation, called Landon's Light, which supports children with severe medical illnesses, like cancer. I instantly felt uplifted by witnessing the joy that communities can bring to those who are facing such discouraging battles. Even though I went through the disgustingly brutal experience of having brain cancer, I realized that my experience could not be whittled down to negative impacts alone. Everything changed because of my diagnosis, but I never could have imagined the growth that could become of it. I grew into the type of person who saw the light in even the darkest of situations. Brain cancer took so many things away from me. From having surgery during my senior homecoming football game to robbing my 12-year-old self of hope. But brain cancer also gave me something in return. It gave me a fighting spirit and a calling to help others. After college, I hoped to become a certified child life specialist (CCLS) in a pediatric oncology unit. Child life specialists are miracle workers within a hospital. They supply so many valuable resources to a child going through treatment and survivorship. Since my tumor went undiagnosed for five years, and I didn’t have surgery until age 17, I hope to become a CCLS to be the person I needed as a kid. To be the person to comfort my pain, ease my worry, and educate me about my diagnosis. When I was little, I was afraid I would never be able to get a job because my head hurt too bad, or I would get sick too often. Now, despite the countless migraines, vision loss, and muscle pain, I can become the hero and someone else's story. I can become a force for good to combat the evil that is childhood cancer.

Most people have heard about post-traumatic stress (PTSD), at some point in their life. But its counterpart, post-traumatic growth, is widely lesser known. Growing up with brain cancer, I've had intimate experiences with both. After a craniotomy to resect my tumor, I began therapy sessions at my local cancer center. The psychologist there helped me through the more difficult side of a cancer diagnosis: the mental strain. After a few months, she introduced me to the concept of post-traumatic growth. I, being newly 18, had never heard of it but was immediately interested. After my primary treatment, and several months of respite, I had an innate urge to connect with others who had shared my experiences. I started volunteering with a local foundation, called Landon's Light, which supports children with severe medical illnesses, like cancer. I instantly felt uplifted by witnessing the joy that communities can bring to those who are facing such discouraging battles. Even though I went through the disgustingly brutal experience of having brain cancer, I realized that my experience could not be whittled down to negative impacts alone. Everything changed because of my diagnosis, but I never could have imagined the growth that could become of it. I grew into the type of person who saw the light in even the darkest of situations. Brain cancer took so many things away from me. From having surgery during my senior homecoming football game to robbing my 12-year-old self of hope. But brain cancer also gave me something in return. It gave me a fighting spirit and a calling to help others. After college, I hoped to become a certified child life specialist (CCLS) in a pediatric oncology unit. Child life specialists are miracle workers within a hospital. They supply so many valuable resources to a child going through treatment and survivorship. Since my tumor went undiagnosed for five years, and I didn’t have surgery until age 17, I hope to become a CCLS to be the person I needed as a kid. To be the person to comfort my pain, ease my worry, and educate me about my diagnosis. When I was little, I was afraid I would never be able to get a job because my head hurt too bad, or I would get sick too often. Now, despite the countless migraines, vision loss, and muscle pain, I can become the hero and someone else's story. I can become a force for good to combat the evil that is childhood cancer.

When I was five, I helped with a Pray for Gray Brain Cancer fundraiser. And by helped I mean, I put necklaces my mom made into cute little bags. This tiny act sparked an interest in community service which has since become a passion of mine. Volunteering inspires me to show compassion to everyone I meet. In turn, I have been shown kindness when I needed it most. Service is a driving force in my life and will continue to be in my future. I began to volunteer while in Girl Scouts, 4-H, and my youth group. Eventually, I completed community service on my own. I wrote notes of encouragement to surgery patients through Plants for Patients. At the Ronald McDonald House, I prepared and served meals, then cleaned their building. For the food shelf, I donated, sorted, and boxed food. I also collected school supplies for the United Way backpack project. After this, I was confident to lead and conduct my own service projects. When the Salvation Army announced they needed men’s socks, I initiated a sock drive. Every winter, I chair a Storybook Breakfast for local children. For several months, I made facemasks for Relief Crafters of America. Last summer, I obtained a van full of donations for Operation Christmas Child. At Make-A-Wish, I spoke on the radio, television, and social media to help grand more wishes. Currently, I am sewing and filling hygiene bags for the YWCA women’s shelter. For three years, I helped an elementary school media specialist who teaches in a low-income neighborhood. We conducted a major project when her school closed due to Covid-19. Students were sent home to learn, but many did not have their own books to practice reading. Therefore, we collected, sorted, and distributed appropriate level books to all five hundred students in her school. As result, almost four thousand books were gifted to students to maintain reading skills at home. I believe it is important for everyone to engage with their communities. It helps us understand the diverse backgrounds of our society and makes us more empathetic to differences. These experiences taught me to believe in myself, to be a kind human, and to show compassion every single day. Eight months ago, my commitment to helping people came full circle. After years of health issues, I was diagnosed with brain cancer myself. Pray For Gray, the exact same group that I “helped” when I little, contacted me to offer their support. In addition, my community brought me the same things I had given to them through my volunteer efforts. I worked to build a strong community and now they assisted me. Thankfully, after a craniotomy and treatment, I am now in remission and ready to attend college next fall. Due to taking time off work to heal, and my mom losing her business because of Covid-19, I need assistance to pay my college tuition. I would be grateful for the support of your scholarship. Thank you for considering me.

On opening night, thousands of audience members watched as I danced onto the stage in this dazzling production. I was beyond excited to be a plate in Beauty and the Beast at my performing arts school. As one of the youngest cast members, I had the crippling thought of, “I don’t deserve to be here”. I needed to be bold to perform in this incredibly challenging musical. Through practice, hard work, and encouragement from my peers, I found my passion. A moment of boldness gave me motivation to pursue a career in Musical Theatre.