Isaac Newton’s laws may explain the universe, but Ayla’s principles define me—mushroom adventurer, museum nerd, and education advocate. Together, they drive me to pursue a career as a quantum neuroscience professor, researching out-of-the-box ideas while empowering others through STEM education. As I embark on my journey toward a BA in physics and neuroscience at Dartmouth College, I'll begin my path to making a meaningful impact on the world by combining my love of adventure, curiosity, and commitment to education. 1. Objects resist change until met by a greater force. Inertia teaches me the value of embracing the unexpected. For years, I grimaced as my fork reached the vicinity of forbidden fungi–nonetheless, my mom challenged me to try a Portobello burger and my eyes shone with amazement. The unstoppable force of adventure met the immovable object, me. Now as a mushroom-lover, I embrace the uncomfortable, both in the kitchen and beyond. When scaling the boulders of not-so-little Little North Mountain, fellow scouts counted on my trembling compass to guide us through. This principle of embracing the unknown directly applies to my future career. Quantum neuroscience is inherently a field that thrives on concepts that defy traditional logic. I plan to explore unconventional ideas at the intersection of neuroscience and physics, uncovering how quantum processes may influence brain function. My adventurous spirit will propel me through every challenge I encounter in my career. 2. F = ma reveals that acceleration is proportional to force. Museums—my essential destination on every family trip—accelerate my curiosity and push me forward. I proudly included four museums on my latest trip, ensuring we hit favorites like Philadelphia's Science History Institute. Each visit propels me to explore the world’s intricate details, igniting my love for the small things and my passion for quantum neuroscience. As a professor, I’ll invite my students and the broader community to dive into the unseen realms of quantum mechanics, helping them understand its impact on our minds and reality. My dream is to one day design Dr. Zook’s interactive Quantum-Neuroscience exhibits, sparking the same excitement in others that museums sparked in me. 3. Each action produces an equal and opposite reaction. Late nights after a stressful military move, I taught my sister the impossible task of dividing fractions while making a DIY rainbow loom bracelets. Inspired by our friendship, I’m committed to uplifting others through education. Whether teaching leadership essentials to girls in Scouting or launching a STEM education initiative at my local Dahlgren Heritage Museum, empowerment motivates everything I do. While in college, I plan to continue this commitment by advocating for STEM education in rural communities and beyond. As a professor, I aim to break down barriers that prevent underrepresented students from pursuing STEM fields. Through outreach programs, I will help create an inclusive environment where everyone feels empowered to explore and contribute to science. Just as Newton’s third law suggests, the energy I put into uplifting others will reverberate, leading to a wave of empowered students who are ready to make a positive impact on the world. Together, these three principles form the foundation of my career aspirations: adventure, curiosity, and empowerment. By combining research, education, and advocacy, I will work to advance both the field of quantum neuroscience and the future generation of STEM leaders.

My house has always been filled with packed boxes, labeled ‘San Diego’ or ‘Victoria, Canada,’ a constant reminder of my life as a military child. With my father’s frequent naval deployments, our boxes are always in a superposition of openness, bound by packing tape that has lost its stickiness. The only one that has ever felt unpacked is my kitchen box. I keep a mental ‘recipe book’—a diary of insights from childhood, my community, and, most importantly, the kitchen. Its stories hold my life together better than any re-used tape. Page one starts with my salt shaker. To most, Sodium-Chloride is a forgettable ingredient, but to me, it’s a reminder that even the simplest things hold endless possibilities. NaCl evokes memories of sea-salty wind and spotting my dad’s ship nearing the dock. His arrival marked the beginning of adventures I had been planning for months, but to me, one bucket-list item topped it all—cooking together. Amid the unpredictability of military life, mornings spent cooking with my dad became a sanctuary where all anxieties about his safety disappeared. Together, we wrote the first pages of my recipe book: Chapter 1, ‘All the Things You Can Do with NaCl.’ He taught me his methodical, military-style approach to cooking and the perfect ratio of garlic salt, ketchup, and spaghetti. I observed, learning the discipline needed for a perfect dish. While our creations were simple, they taught me to appreciate observation and culinary laws. When my dad inevitably returned to the sea, I felt my stability leave with him. To fill the void, I became my mom’s assistant in the next chapter: ‘The Art of Being Messy.’ A biologist and maestro artist, her approach to cooking transformed our kitchen into a science lab, liberated from strict recipes. My father’s methodical cooking brought comfort, but the uncharted territory of experimentation with my mother is what tempted my curiosity. “Onion-chips, yogurt, enchilada-sauce, and raspberry-jam,” she announced, handing me a bag of mystery ingredients. It was my turn to innovate. Inspired by the TV show Chopped, we made kitchen challenges our summer tradition. I always chose the most random, formidable ingredients. After some trial-and-error (with my mom as a taste tester), onion-chips and jam became Ayla’s Savory-Sweet Enchiladas. In designing dishes, I became the Project Manager of my kitchen. My creations weren’t perfect, but they made my recipe book more vibrant—more me. As I grew older, I realized the lessons learned in the military-kitchen—adaptability, creativity, precision—were just as essential outside of it. These ingredients combined during my time with the youth advocacy organization, Y Street. I blended data, narratives, and personal passion to craft compelling stories that resonated with state legislators. I was elated when my advocacy-artistry resulted in my selection as a speaker for the national Champions for Youth health-advocacy conference. Like a great recipe—change requires the right blend of storytelling and collaboration. Together, they guide me in leading discussions on youth involvement in community-health campaigns, now as the Executive President of Y Street. My recipe book records the lessons I have learned and the person I am becoming. Cooking and Y Street challenge me to explore invention and collaboration as I aspire to become a quantum neuroscientist and study physics at Dartmouth College. By investigating the intersection of quantum properties and cognition, I aim to navigate the controversies of quantum brain theory while inspiring other aspiring scientists to venture into uncharted territory of thought. In my next chapter in college, my dad's salt shaker reminds me that with an innovative mindset, even the most familiar ingredients can lead to new adventures.

Exploring the Chaos: Unraveling the Nature of Our Universe Through Quantum Mechanics I’ve reluctantly become fluent in the language of coughing, at least for my family. At 5:44 a.m., I’m jolted awake by my father’s cough, a violent /k/ /h/ from the kitchen. If it’s pollen season, my mom’s raspy [kʰɒfʰ] or a congested gurgle might join the breakfast table at 6:15. These sounds used to drive me insane, often forcing me downstairs with noise-canceling headphones. But somewhere along the way, I realized that the laws of physics could help me reframe these sounds into something more tolerable, even predictable. Now, instead of being annoyed at 5:44, I think about my dad’s cough as particles following the laws of entropy. The pressurized air rushes out, the sound bursts into the room, and the system inevitably moves toward disorder. This is chaos, yes—but it’s chaos within rules. Through physics, I feel like I can make sense of the disordered release of pressure in my dad’s throat. The idea of entropy opens us up to understanding the nature of the universe. We’re all familiar with entropy in everyday life, though we may not recognize it: your coffee cools down, rooms get messier over time, and once-ordered systems dissolve into randomness. Entropy measures the direction of time and disorder in every system, including the universe itself. I find quantum mechanics to be uniquely comforting among the chaos of our world. While stars are burning out and galaxies are drifting further apart in a slow march toward eventual heat death, it’s not all despair. Knowing that entropy governs the universe gives us a framework. I think about entropy whenever I observe something as simple as steam rising off my tea. The previously confined particles scatter in every direction, heading toward a more disordered state. But, with physics, we can try to understand, and possibly even predict, that scattering. Through science the chaos becomes manageable. This applies not only to my tea but also to the grandest cosmic scales. The universe may trend toward disorder, but within that disorder, we can still find patterns, if we look closely enough. In physics, classical mechanics helps us understand things on a human scale: the way objects move and how forces interact. But things get more interesting when we delve deeper into quantum mechanics. In wave-particle duality, particles like electrons simultaneously behave as particles and waves, depending on how you observe them. With quantum superposition, particles exist in multiple states until you measure them. Here it seems like the universe, at its smallest scale, has no problem embodying contradictions; yet, even in this seemingly chaotic realm, there are rules. I first learned about quantum mechanics through a YouTube rabbit hole and became instantly obsessed with its absurdity. The more I learned, I realized how critical these concepts were in understanding the fundamental nature of the universe. One of the first ideas I learned about was the uncertainty principle, which states that we can never precisely know both the position and momentum of a particle. Rather than a limitation of our instruments, this is a feature of reality itself. The universe, at its smallest scales, is inherently uncertain. There’s something deeply poetic about this: the universe is both knowable and unknowable, ordered and chaotic, all at once. There is more to chaos than particles acting unpredictably. It’s about how these small-scale phenomena ripple outward to affect the larger world. Through quantum entanglement, we learn that particles can be instantaneously connected, no matter the distance. As I dived deeper into quantum mechanics, I began to make these connections: I realized its potential to explain not just the external universe, but also the internal one—the human brain. Quantum neuroscience is a highly debated theory that suggests that quantum processes could influence neural activity and consciousness. It is one of the most exciting frontiers in science today. This idea suggests that our minds might reflect the universe’s chaotic yet ordered nature. If quantum mechanics can explain the mysteries of particles and forces, could it one day help explain the mysteries of consciousness, memory, and self-awareness? While I’m careful not to jump into pseudoscientific claims, the idea that we are exploring the universe and ourselves through the same fundamental principles is thrilling. The brain may seem worlds apart from particle collisions and quantum computers, but the same rudimentary laws govern both. As we learn more about quantum mechanics, we become closer to understanding even the most complex and elusive system of all, that of our human mind. So, why should we care about understanding the nature of the universe? The answer, for me, lies in the way physics helps us navigate the inherent chaos of existence. We live in a world governed by entropy, one where disorder constantly increases, but through understanding the laws of physics, we can find patterns and meaning. We can predict, we can explore, and we can make sense of things that seem random and chaotic. But beyond the philosophical comfort it brings, understanding the universe has many practical implications. Quantum mechanics, for instance, has already revolutionized technology, like lasers, GPS, and even modern medical imaging, in ways that have often gone unnoticed by many. As we continue exploring these fundamental laws, who knows what breakthroughs await? More importantly, understanding the universe inspires a sense of wonder. It’s a reminder that there is always more to discover. My drive to understand the universe is about sharing wonder with others. As a future physics professor, I want to use education to help others see the beauty in the chaos, to show them that the universe is full of endless possibilities. Whether deciphering the physics of my dad’s cough or exploring the mysteries of quantum mechanics, I’m reminded that understanding the universe isn’t just a scientific endeavor, it’s a human one. And in that understanding, we find our place in the ever-expanding, ever-chaotic, but always fascinating universe.

Before the sun even rises, my dad and I are already in the kitchen, ready for our Saturday morning ritual. There are no recipes, just an eagerness to experiment. My dad, a Naval officer, became my first culinary mentor. He taught me to embrace creativity and discipline through cooking, even when military life meant everything else was constantly changing. One of my earliest memories with him is of a small kitchen on a naval base in California. I was five, perched on a stool next to him, armed with a wooden spoon and an unshakable belief that I was his indispensable kitchen assistant. My dad had just returned from deployment, and we were making our traditional post-deployment pie. I measured sugar with meticulous care, and he guided me through the steps, his calm voice leading me like a ship through a storm. Every moment felt monumental, from sealing the pie crust to watching it bake, its golden edges marking the culmination of our time together after months apart. Those weekends became our safe harbor. My dad’s time away on deployment was always unpredictable, but the kitchen remained our constant, our ritual. It didn’t matter how often we moved—three times before I turned ten—because the kitchen was always the place where we could reconnect. The kitchen was where I learned patience, precision, and the joy of creating something new, even if it meant starting over after a failed attempt. After our third move, we found ourselves in the hustle of Washington, D.C., where every weekend with my dad became an adventure. We explored museums, attended STEM festivals, and, of course, continued cooking. At eight, I attended “Kids in the Kitchen,” an event that allowed children to explore food science. Wearing a chef’s hat and apron, I returned home with big ideas and immediately declared myself the head chef. I rounded up my sisters and set out to surprise my parents with cookies. The kitchen transformed into a lab. But as I grew older, I began to see cooking in a new light. The kitchen became a laboratory of ideas. My dad had taught me that cooking, like science, requires trial and error. And much like the STEM events we attended, cooking invited curiosity. I started testing ingredients, tweaking recipes, and even attempting creations without a guide. One of my first solo attempts? Banana-Chocolate-Peanut Butter Muffins. I threw together ingredients with the confidence of an aspiring scientist, certain that I was on the verge of discovering the next great delicacy. Thirty minutes later, I pulled out a tray of sludgy, inedible blobs. That failure, though, was a turning point. I learned that experimentation, whether in cooking or science, doesn’t always yield immediate success. My dad didn’t scold or discourage me. Instead, he helped me understand that the best discoveries come from refining the process, analyzing the failures, and trying again. His time in the Navy, with its discipline and challenges, instilled that mindset in me. As I prepare to major in physics and neuroscience, I trace my love for experimentation back to those kitchen sessions with my dad. The same curiosity that drove me to mix unexpected ingredients now propels me to ask big questions about the universe and the brain. Just as I faced new challenges in the kitchen, I approach scientific research with the same wonder and persistence, knowing that my dad remains my biggest supporter. Whether it’s a new dish or a quantum mechanics breakthrough, we continue to share and learn together, carrying the lessons of curiosity and resilience he instilled in me.

As a child, I wanted to be a chef, a culinary artist who transformed chaos into something extraordinary. My kitchen was a playground of flavors, textures, and smells, where I could experiment with no instructions, only ideas. The feeling of combining the unexpected, like peanut butter and curry or chocolate and chili, brought both triumphs and failures, and that process of discovery excited me. There were no rigid boundaries, only the thrill of inventing something new. But as I grew, my world expanded. Moving constantly as a military child meant that my sense of home was often temporary, and I found solace in the kitchen, recreating familiar dishes. Yet with each move, I encountered new challenges: school systems that didn’t align, communities that felt unfamiliar, and social dynamics that shifted. Amid all that change, one constant remained: curiosity. I wasn’t just cooking anymore. I started asking bigger questions about the world, the universe itself. Science became my new obsession. In high school, this fascination with exploration and experimentation took on a new form. Physics captivated me. Suddenly, I wasn’t just playing with ingredients, but with forces of nature: gravity, light, and even the fabric of time. Neuroscience followed closely behind as I wondered about the mechanisms of consciousness and cognition. I was intrigued by how our understanding of the brain could potentially be revolutionized by quantum mechanics. My aspirations shifted from culinary artistry to something even more complex: understanding the universe at both the largest and smallest scales. The idea of solving problems in science, much like in the kitchen, requires creativity. There’s always a new question to ask, a new hypothesis to test, a new theory to challenge. But unlike my childhood experiments in the kitchen, these discoveries could have a profound impact, not just on a plate, but on the way we understand ourselves and our world. As I prepare to study physics and neuroscience at Dartmouth College, my passion has expanded beyond personal discovery. I’ve found a calling in education and advocacy. Through organizations like Y Street and the Dahlgren Heritage Museum, I’ve led projects focused on health resources and STEM education, particularly in rural and underserved communities. My drive to innovate isn’t limited to science; I want to empower others to pursue learning, especially those who might not see themselves as future scientists or innovators. I believe access to quality education can change lives, and I want to be part of that change. Today, my dream has evolved. I’m pursuing a career in quantum neuroscience, combining my love for physics with my fascination with the brain. I see myself as both a researcher and a teacher, exploring cutting-edge science while making it accessible to students of all backgrounds. I want to stand at the crossroads of discovery and education, ensuring that the next generation of learners has the tools, inspiration, and resources to ask bold questions. In a way, I’m still that curious child in the kitchen, but now the ingredients I’m working with are far more intricate. The creativity and persistence I learned from cooking have shaped how I approach science, education, and advocacy. The chef I once dreamed of becoming may not have materialized, but the spirit behind it has found a new and more expansive path.

In my kitchen, there’s a well-worn cutting board, a pair of gleaming lab goggles, and a stack of quantum physics textbooks. Most people wouldn’t think twice about this peculiar mix, but for me, it makes perfect sense. Whether I’m slicing onions for a recipe or dissecting theories about particle behavior, I’m always trying to answer one question: "What’s next?" What’s the next flavor combination that will surprise my family? What’s the next scientific breakthrough that could change the way we understand our minds? The thing is, cooking and science are intertwined for me. Both demand creativity, precision, and curiosity. Both are about taking seemingly random elements—whether ingredients or ideas—and finding the perfect balance to create something new. Growing up as a military child, I found myself constantly moving from one community to another, always adapting, always starting over. But wherever we landed, the kitchen became my constant. It’s where I first learned to experiment, fail, and succeed. It’s where I realized the power of trial and error. And it’s where I discovered my love for uncovering new truths, whether in food or physics. As I prepare to further my education, I’m drawn to STEAM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Math) because it encompasses everything I love: the thrill of discovery, the beauty of creativity, and the potential to make a lasting impact. My passion for the sciences, particularly physics and neuroscience, has grown over the years, culminating in my current research in quantum neuroscience. It’s an emerging field that explores the connections between quantum mechanics and brain function—an intersection that feels almost as magical as the perfect recipe. I want to delve deeper into this field, to contribute to the body of knowledge that could one day reshape our understanding of consciousness, learning, and even artificial intelligence. My goals go beyond the lab. I’m equally passionate about STEM education and public policy, particularly in advocating for health resources in underfunded communities. I’ve seen firsthand how a lack of access to basic needs, like clean water, can impact a student’s ability to learn and thrive. Through my work with Y Street, a health advocacy group, I successfully pushed for improved water-access policies in schools, and I’m not stopping there. My long-term goal is to blend my love for science with public policy, using my background in neuroscience and physics to shape educational reforms and health policies that ensure every student, no matter where they come from, has the resources they need to succeed. This scholarship would be a pivotal step in helping me achieve these goals. It would allow me to focus on my studies and research without the financial burden, enabling me to dedicate myself fully to both my scientific endeavors and my advocacy work. It would provide the foundation for me to become a professor of physics, where I can inspire future generations of scientists, and a policy advocate who pushes for practical changes that improve education and health resources. At its core, my journey in STEAM is about making connections. Whether I’m connecting flavors in the kitchen, particles in the lab, or students with the resources they need, I’m driven by the idea that everything is linked in unexpected ways. I see the world as a puzzle waiting to be solved, and STEAM is the toolkit that lets me explore, innovate, and ultimately, make a difference. This scholarship would help me continue asking bold questions, uncovering new answers, and using those discoveries to help others find their path forward. I don’t know exactly what the future holds but I know that I’m ready to cook up something extraordinary.

Water is everywhere, essential yet often unnoticed. It flows through our daily lives without a second thought. As a high school freshman, I watched dehydration wreak havoc as students fainted during biology class and soccer practice. That wake-up call pushed me to act and fight for better water access in schools, something I’m still passionate about today. It all started on a bus ride home when my sister casually mentioned that five classmates had fainted that week due to dehydration. As a new member of Y Street, a student health advocacy group, I realized this was an opportunity to make a real impact. I pitched an idea to raise hydration awareness in my sister’s middle school, planning a booth for lunchtime. We designed water trivia games, handed out hydration stickers, and gathered surveys on student drinking habits. The energy from the students was contagious, but I knew that stickers and trivia alone weren’t going to fix the problem. A conversation with the district’s school nutrition director revealed a deeper issue; there was no consistent policy to ensure water access throughout the school day. It wasn’t just one school that needed change; it was the entire district. Fueled by my newfound determination, I compiled research, student testimonials, and policy recommendations and brought them to the school board. My pitch focused on the health risks we’d already seen and the long-term impact of dehydration on learning. A few weeks later, the school board voted unanimously to update the district’s water access policy. I returned to thank them in person, overwhelmed by the realization that students in my district would now have reliable access to water long after I graduated. This success didn’t just change a policy, it changed my perspective. I realized that leadership isn’t about titles or speeches. It’s about identifying problems and relentlessly pursuing solutions. That moment paved the way for me to serve as the state executive board president of Y Street, where I now empower other youth advocates to take action in their communities. My passion for water access continues to drive me, and I’m more committed than ever to pushing for healthy hydration practices in schools, whether through reusable water bottle initiatives, engaging district-wide “hydration days,” or setting up maintenance funds for water fountains. I want to normalize hydration in school communities so it’s no longer an afterthought, but a built-in part of daily life. The current policy changes I helped implement are a great start, but there’s still more work to do. While students have access to reusable water bottles and better-maintained fountains, I’m advocating for an annual distribution of water bottles and interactive, school-wide events to promote hydration. I want to see these policies spread, not only across my district but also in the communities I’ll join next year at Dartmouth. Starting small, I believe these efforts will grow into lasting waves of change. Healthy hydration habits that begin in school will shape students’ lives for years to come. Water is the foundation of life, and ensuring its availability and promotion in schools is critical for a healthier future. With every policy change, every awareness campaign, and every water bottle distributed, I’m committed to making sure no student takes water for granted again.

Bracelets…Water…Veterans…Museums These 4 words sum up my journey of advocacy. With my rainbow loom bracelet set, I befriended a mute classmate. After months of one-sided blacktop chats, the day she finally spoke was a triumphant moment. I accompanied her to speech therapy sessions, supporting her through the challenges of learning to express herself verbally. While she claimed I showed her the power of her voice, I believe she did the same for me. In freshman year, I noticed students fainting during school and sports practices due to improper hydration. After presenting my case to the school board, our district implemented a policy to ensure students have access to water bottles and clean water sources. Moving every couple of years, I’ve always valued opportunities to learn from diverse perspectives. At Girls State, I led discussions with other youth delegates about what we can best do to support our veterans. The stories I’ve gathered empower me to seek out veterans and other military children everywhere I go. The Dahlgren Heritage Museum is a highlight of my community’s history, and hopefully soon, a hot spot of STEM education. To lead the museum’s outreach program, I am connecting Dahlgren’s rich Naval history with at-home experiments. In classrooms or at home, I am committed to improving access to STEM education for youth, especially those in rural areas. As I reflect on my high school experiences with advocacy, Dolores Huerta’s words speak to me: "We must use our lives to make the world a better place to live, not just to acquire things," she said. "That is what we are put on the earth for." As I enter college, her wise words remind me that my purpose is bigger than myself—it’s about uplifting those around me. However, achieving these goals comes with financial challenges. A college education is essential for me to continue my advocacy, yet it is also a significant financial burden on my retired Navy father and self-employed artist mother who must also pay for college education for my two younger sisters. Receiving this scholarship would relieve some of the financial stress, allowing me to focus fully on pursuing a degree that empowers me to build upon my past experiences and take them even further. Whether it’s advocating for STEM access or supporting veterans, higher education will equip me with the knowledge and skills necessary to make a lasting impact. This scholarship wouldn’t just support me—it would help me support others. By reducing the financial strain, I’ll have more time and resources to continue my community work, both in college and beyond. With the financial assistance, I can continue turning my passions into meaningful projects, like expanding STEM opportunities for youth and advocating for veterans and military families. Every effort I’ve made so far has been a stepping stone toward creating a future where I can dedicate my life to service and innovation.

Math is my secret language. A code with which I can communicate with the stars in secret. As my whispers have transformed from talk of fractions to the complex world of derivatives, I've learned of math's ability to remain a constant in our evolving world. Even as the stars migrate across the night sky, numbers and equations define their patterns. However, what I love most about math is its ability to create stories and connect with others. Since I was young, I would count the stars with my dad. "1, 2, 3..." we went on for what seemed like hours, "1001, 1002, 1003..." until our eyelids grew heavy and my dad would carry my tired body inside. Our counting adventures transformed into breakfast mayhem when I started to learn about fractions. "Okay, so what is one half of 3/4 cup," my dad would ask me. "3/2," little me would say with a grin spreading across my face. Fractions never came easy to me. It took months of our breakfast calculation ritual to understand them, but by the time my final assessment came around, I aced it! All the late nights and early mornings I spent with my dad trying to make sense of the world through math are some of the fondest memories I have of him. Even though some of the topics I am starting to explore now with trigonometry, calculus, and statistics are beyond the reach of my father's memory, I still take time to sit down and narrate my story of the world through math. My most recent fascination has been quantum probabilities, specifically when describing neural networks. Although some of the equations and symbols are above me, I have made it my goal to understand how they work. Pointing to the equations on printed-out pages of physics journals, I try to explain to my father the ins and outs of quantum tunneling, superposition, and the difference between classical and quantum probabilities. Although we sometimes get nowhere. The melody of the mathematical language used between the lines gives us solace that these obscure concepts are somehow rooted in nature. My relationship with my dad would not be the same without math. Math is the language that connects us through our love of making sense of the chaotic world. Math is our timeless bond beneath the stars.

From California to Virginia, I spent most of my childhood in constant motion. Being a military child meant moving every couple of years—uprooting my life and having to form a whole new one each time. Changing places also brought changing faces. In each place I lived, I met new kinds of people and came to understand the meaning of diversity. It became second nature for me to just go up to someone and start asking questions, trying to learn about what makes them unique. Although I found many similarities between the places I lived, each person always happened to be distinctive. Cherishing this diversity is what ignited most of my childhood. I was always the kid on the playground who made sure to include the person no one wanted to hang out with. I accompanied my friend to their speech therapy class to help them feel confident in using their voice. While these acts seemed like small gestures of kindness to me, they meant the world to some of these kids. When I saw that my other classmates would not only refuse to help some of these kids but also outright make fun of them, I made it my mission to advocate for inclusivity and kindness wherever I moved. My early experiences showed me how much I enjoy advocacy. Not only was I able to help others, but I could make a lasting change in the world. Debates over inclusion on the playground became debates over gender equality, racial injustice, and constitutional rights. At the same time, my family settled into our final home in a small rural community in Virginia. I quickly came to realize that my new community did not share my values of inclusivity. This is what brought me into the world of politics. In my first election there, I decided it was time to take my passion for advocacy into the realm of politics. I took my experience as a military child to be able to talk to and understand different types of people and their opinions. Being able to connect with people through shared experiences and mutual understanding defined my approach to advocacy. I staffed tables to inform community members about candidates, wrote postcards to potential voters, and attended meetings for the King George Democrats as the only youth attendee. While we were often unsuccessful in local elections, the experience I gained learning about the political process was invaluable. However, I do not plan to stop there. Recently, I formed the King George Democrats Youth Committee, a place where other youth can come to make their voices heard. I want to continue to grow this community, bringing in more voices and opinions to grow support for many of the issues that often seem to be ignored. As I pursue higher education and plan to leave my small community, I will continue to bring my passion for advocacy and helping others wherever I go. In exploring the world, meeting new people, and coming to understand society, the lessons I've learned from the school playground to the election booth will forever define me. My early experiences with injustice defined my perspective on civic engagement. I want to work for a world where no person will have to feel alone and excluded just because of being who they are. If I spoke to a little me who had to leave their friends for the fifth time, she would be amazed by the immense impact of the military child experience. I am no longer frustrated by change; I am ready to harness it to change the world.

I have always been captivated by the beauty of nature. From the perfectly repeating petals of a blooming flower to the coordinate plane that is the starry night sky, the natural world never ceases to amaze me. However, it was through my love for mathematics that I truly began to appreciate the underlying beauty and harmony that permeates every aspect of nature. Mathematics is the language that describes all relationships within the fabric of our universe. In uncovering its boundless mysteries, we unravel some of the greatest secrets of the natural world. It stands as the sole means through which humanity can articulate and unravel the indescribable beauty and elegance that are captured in every snapshot of our existence. When I was younger, I would spend hours walking through the gardens behind my house, mesmerized by the beauty of what I saw. Each plant held within it perfect patterns that left me in a state of astonishment. I couldn't help but marvel at the harmonious coexistence of untamed wilderness and flawless precision. In the classroom, I delved into studies of symmetry within my math classes. I sat eagerly as the teacher explained the various types of symmetry. After the lesson, I rushed home to inform my mother of my new insight into math in nature. As I deepened my understanding of complex geometries in the following years of math courses, I came to realize that one of the most astonishing manifestations of mathematical beauty in nature is found in the concept of symmetry. The perfect reflection of a moth's wings and the flawless repetition of stems on a cactus, all seen in my very own backyard, owe their impeccable beauty to the magic of mathematics. Mathematics serves as a bridge between the abstract and the tangible. A bridge that directs the interconnectedness of all things. A bridge that creates underlying order amidst the chaos of our universe. It provides a unique insight into the exquisite balance and harmony that exist in every living organism, every celestial body, and every moment of human existence. My love for mathematics stems from its ability to reveal the inherent beauty in nature. Through its language, I can decipher the intricate patterns, symmetries, and proportions that help us define the world around us. As I continue my studies of mathematics in pursuit of a mathematics-based degree, I aim to find a deeper connection with nature and an enduring appreciation for its innate beauty.

I have always been captivated by the beauty of nature. From the perfectly repeating petals of a blooming flower to the coordinate plane that is the starry night sky, the natural world never ceases to amaze me. However, it was through my love for mathematics that I truly began to appreciate the underlying beauty and harmony that permeates every aspect of nature. Mathematics is the language that describes all relationships within the fabric of our universe. In uncovering its boundless mysteries, we unravel some of the greatest secrets of the natural world. It stands as the sole means through which humanity can articulate and unravel the indescribable beauty and elegance that are captured in every snapshot of our existence. When I was younger, I would spend hours walking through the gardens behind my house, mesmerized by the beauty of what I saw. Each plant held within it perfect patterns that left me in a state of astonishment. I couldn't help but marvel at the harmonious coexistence of untamed wilderness and flawless precision. In the classroom, I delved into studies of symmetry within my math classes. I sat eagerly as the teacher explained the various types of symmetry. After the lesson, I rushed home to inform my mother of my new insight into math in nature. As I deepened my understanding of complex geometries in the following years of math courses, I came to realize that one of the most astonishing manifestations of mathematical beauty in nature is found in the concept of symmetry. The perfect reflection of a moth's wings and the flawless repetition of stems on a cactus, all seen in my very own backyard, owe their impeccable beauty to the magic of mathematics. Mathematics serves as a bridge between the abstract and the tangible. A bridge that directs the interconnectedness of all things. A bridge that creates underlying order amidst the chaos of our universe. It provides a unique insight into the exquisite balance and harmony that exist in every living organism, every celestial body, and every moment of human existence. My love for mathematics stems from its ability to reveal the inherent beauty in nature. Through its language, I can decipher the intricate patterns, symmetries, and proportions that help us define the world around us. As I continue my studies of mathematics, I find a deeper connection with nature and an enduring appreciation for its innate beauty.

I have always been captivated by the beauty of nature. From the perfectly repeating petals of a blooming flower to the coordinate plane that is the starry night sky, the natural world never ceases to amaze me. However, it was through my love for mathematics that I truly began to appreciate the underlying beauty and harmony that permeates every aspect of nature. Mathematics is the language that describes all relationships within the fabric of our universe. In uncovering its boundless mysteries, we unravel some of the greatest secrets of the natural world. It stands as the sole means through which humanity can articulate and unravel the indescribable beauty and elegance that are captured in every snapshot of our existence. When I was younger, I would spend hours walking through the gardens behind my house, mesmerized by the beauty of what I saw. Each plant held within it perfect patterns that left me in a state of astonishment. I couldn't help but marvel at the harmonious coexistence of untamed wilderness and flawless precision. In the classroom, I delved into studies of symmetry within my math classes. I sat eagerly as the teacher explained the various types of symmetry. After the lesson, I rushed home to inform my mother of my new insight into math in nature. As I deepened my understanding of complex geometries in the following years of math courses, I came to realize that one of the most astonishing manifestations of mathematical beauty in nature is found in the concept of symmetry. The perfect reflection of a moth's wings and the flawless repetition of stems on a cactus, all seen in my very own backyard, owe their impeccable beauty to the magic of mathematics. Mathematics serves as a bridge between the abstract and the tangible. A bridge that directs the interconnectedness of all things. A bridge that creates underlying order amidst the chaos of our universe. It provides a unique insight into the exquisite balance and harmony that exist in every living organism, every celestial body, and every moment of human existence. My love for mathematics stems from its ability to reveal the inherent beauty in nature. Through its language, I can decipher the intricate patterns, symmetries, and proportions that help us define the world around us. As I continue my studies of mathematics, I find a deeper connection with nature and an enduring appreciation for its innate beauty.