Kindness in Action: One of the most meaningful acts of kindness I’ve offered happened while coaching youth lacrosse at the YMCA. There was a younger kid on the team who struggled with confidence. He was smaller than the others, and every time he made a mistake, you could see it on his face. He'd shut down and got really quiet. I could tell he liked the sport, but he didn’t think he belonged, and I didn’t want him to lose that. One day after practice, I stayed behind with him to work on the basics. I told him about how many mistakes I made when I first started playing, and honestly, I still mess up sometimes. I wanted him to understand that messing up doesn’t mean you’re not good, it usually means you’re actually trying. Over the next few weeks, I kept checking in with him. Nothing big, just small goals, quick encouragement, and making sure he knew when he was improving. Even the little things. By the end of the season, he was a different kid. He ran onto the field with confidence, called for the ball, and even started encouraging another teammate who was struggling. That stuck with me. It showed me that kindness doesn’t have to be big or obvious. Sometimes it’s just being consistent and showing someone you believe in them. That’s the kind of person I try to be. Creating Connection: Creating connection has always mattered to me because I know how much it affects whether someone feels like they belong. Whether I’m coaching, volunteering, or just working with classmates, I try to be aware of the people who might feel left out. Coaching youth lacrosse at the YMCA has really shaped that. Every kid walks in different, some confident, some quiet, some not sure why they signed up. I make it a point to learn names quickly and treat everyone the same. If someone’s standing off to the side or looks unsure, I’ll go over, talk to them, and get them involved. Sometimes that’s all it takes. I’ve also volunteered at Cinderella’s Closet, where students can pick out formalwear at no cost. It’s a different setting, but the same idea. I help them find something they feel good in, hype them up a little, and make sure they leave feeling confident. You can actually see the difference in how they carry themselves. In school and on teams, I’m usually not the loudest person, but I try to be someone people can count on, someone who listens and keeps things positive. Creating connection matters to me because when people feel like they belong, everything changes. They show up with more confidence, and I like knowing I can play a small part in that.

The kid being picked on in my neighborhood never asked for help. He probably didn’t even know I was looking out for him. I didn’t want to make things worse, so I would just go outside and stay nearby until the other kids left. He never realized I was there on purpose, and that was fine with me. I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I just didn’t want him to feel invisible. Looking back, I understand that small, quiet actions like that can make a real difference in someone’s day. My dad often talked about Officer Katelyn Tully, who he supervised. Her loss affected the entire Haverhill community, and he always said she cared deeply about people and saw the human side of everyone, even when her job was difficult. I never met her, but her example stayed with me. She showed me that real service isn’t about recognition, it’s about compassion, integrity, and doing the right thing even when nobody is watching. Her legacy reminds me that quiet leadership can be just as powerful as the kind everyone sees. I don’t usually think of what I do as “service.” I just try to help where I can. Over the years I’ve volunteered in different ways: wrapping gifts for the Haverhill Police Department, helping at Cinderella’s Closet at Haverhill High, working at the food pantry, volunteering at local 5K races, and coaching little kids in YMCA youth lacrosse. I also love animals, so I’m always willing to help neighbors with their pets. None of these things feel big on their own, but I’ve learned that showing up consistently builds trust and lets people know they can count on you. As I prepare to study business in college, I want to carry that mindset with me. I’m competitive and I want to succeed, but I don’t want to lose the instinct to look out for people. Whether it’s on a team, in a classroom, or someday in my career, I want to be someone others feel comfortable relying on. I may not be a loud or obvious leader, but I’m learning that leadership can be quiet, standing nearby so someone doesn’t feel alone, or doing the work without needing credit. That’s the kind of person I hope to be, and the kind of service Officer Tully lived every day. I want to honor her legacy by continuing to lead with empathy, dedication, and integrity wherever life takes me.