My Dad took his life on August 5, 2021. The details of that day will be forever burned in my mind. But what haunts me more than anything are the details I do not know. What was causing my Dad, my big, strong Dad, to be so unable to fight through the darkness that depression brings? What was causing the smartest person in my life to not understand that things would pass and get better? He kept it all inside. It festered and burned until he could see no way out except to leave. As he was contemplating ending his suffering, mine was just beginning. About 6 weeks before my Dad died, I began having terrible panic attacks. I had had small ones in the past but these were all encompassing and took over my life. I did not understand what was going on but I was desperate for it to stop. After my Dad died, they got even worse and I struggled to function. While people tried to be patient with me, many could not understand what was going on with me. I had teachers in my high school who made my struggles even worse because they did not know how to manage what I was going through. Their focus on rules and discipline instead of empathy deepened my shame and fear. This made me think even more about how my Dad must have felt when he kept everything inside. Eventually, I understood that silence is what steals people from us. I continued therapy and added medication so I could get space from the panic attacks to learn how to use what I was learning in therapy. I shared with my family and friends how I was feeling and, if I could, what I thought I needed. As I shared, my friends shared back and I realized that while I was facing an enormous grief, most of my friends were facing some kind of struggle with their mental health. My courage to be open about mine encouraged them to do the same and we were able to help each other. I have been a dancer for my entire life but when my Dad left, it was difficult to continue. However, I realized how much movement helped me so I worked hard to be able to continue and in the course of this, I discovered that I had things to say about my struggles, my Dad's, my friends'. So I created a solo called The Storm. I used this to be vulnerable and dance my story. It was brutally painful and it was beyond challenging. And it was healing. It was cathartic and actually helped me to realize how strong I actually was. It opened conversations about mental health that I do not think would have happened if I had not been so brave. Even in the dance competitions I brought it to, where it is usually about how many turns you can do, the judges were very moved by what I showed them. I am currently pursuing my BFA in Dance and my BA in Entrepreneurial Studies. My dream is to create a dance studio and continue using movement as a tool for healing. I want to teach young dancers that their emotions are not weaknesses to hide, but experiences that they can work through, share, and transform. My journey has shown me that mental health support saves lives, and I hope to build a future where dance is a safe space for young people to face their struggles-with courage, connection, and hope. Thank you for your consideration.

My Dad took his life on August 5, 2021. The details of that day will be forever burned in my mind. But what haunts me more than anything are the details I do not know. What was causing my Dad, my big, strong Dad, to be so unable to fight through the darkness that depression brings? What was causing the smartest person in my life to not understand that things would pass and get better? He kept it all inside. It festered and burned until he could see no way out except to leave. As he was contemplating ending his suffering, mine was just beginning. About 6 weeks before my Dad died, I began having terrible panic attacks. I had had small ones in the past but these were all encompassing and took over my life. I did not understand what was going on but I was desperate for it to stop. After my Dad died, they got even worse and I struggled to function. While people tried to be patient with me, many could not understand what was going on with me. I had teachers in my high school who made my struggles even worse because they did not know how to manage what I was going through. Their focus on rules and discipline instead of empathy deepened my shame and fear. This made me think even more about how my Dad must have felt when he kept everything inside. Eventually, I understood that silence is what steals people from us. I continued therapy and added medication so I could get space from the panic attacks to learn how to use what I was learning in therapy. I shared with my family and friends how I was feeling and, if I could, what I thought I needed. As I shared, my friends shared back and I realized that while I was facing an enormous grief, most of my friends were facing some kind of struggle with their mental health. My courage to be open about mine encouraged them to do the same and we were able to help each other. I have been a dancer for my entire life but when my Dad left, it was difficult to continue. However, I realized how much movement helped me so I worked hard to be able to continue and in the course of this, I discovered that I had things to say about my struggles, my Dad's, my friends'. So I created a solo called The Storm. I used this to be vulnerable and dance my story. It was brutally painful and it was beyond challenging. And it was healing. It was cathartic and actually helped me to realize how strong I actually was. It opened conversations about mental health that I do not think would have happened if I had not been so brave. Even in the dance competitions I brought it to, where it is usually about how many turns you can do, the judges were very moved by what I showed them. I am currently pursuing my BFA in Dance and my BA in Entrepreneurial Studies. My dream is to create a dance studio and continue using movement as a tool for healing. I want to teach young dancers that their emotions are not weaknesses to hide, but experiences that they can work through, share, and transform. My journey has shown me that mental health support saves lives, and I hope to build a future where dance is a safe space for young people to face their struggles-with courage, connection, and hope. Thank you for your consideration.

My Dad took his life on August 5, 2021. The details of that day will be forever burned in my mind. But what haunts me more than anything are the details I do not know. What was causing my Dad, my big, strong Dad, to be so unable to fight through the darkness that depression brings? What was causing the smartest person in my life to not understand that things would pass and get better? He kept it all inside. It festered and burned until he could see no way out except to leave. As he was contemplating ending his suffering, mine was just beginning. About 6 weeks before my Dad died, I began having terrible panic attacks. I had had small ones in the past but these were all encompassing and took over my life. I did not understand what was going on but I was desperate for it to stop. After my Dad died, they got even worse and I struggled to function. While people tried to be patient with me, many could not understand what was going on with me. I had teachers in my high school who made my struggles even worse because they did not know how to manage what I was going through. Their focus on rules and discipline instead of empathy deepened my shame and fear. This made me think even more about how my Dad must have felt when he kept everything inside. Eventually, I understood that silence is what steals people from us. I continued therapy and added medication so I could get space from the panic attacks to learn how to use what I was learning in therapy. I shared with my family and friends how I was feeling and, if I could, what I thought I needed. As I shared, my friends shared back and I realized that while I was facing an enormous grief, most of my friends were facing some kind of struggle with their mental health. My courage to be open about mine encouraged them to do the same and we were able to help each other. I have been a dancer for my entire life but when my Dad left, it was difficult to continue. However, I realized how much movement helped me so I worked hard to be able to continue and in the course of this, I discovered that I had things to say about my struggles, my Dad's, my friends'. So I created a solo called The Storm. I used this to be vulnerable and dance my story. It was brutally painful and it was beyond challenging. And it was healing. It was cathartic and actually helped me to realize how strong I actually was. It opened conversations about mental health that I do not think would have happened if I had not been so brave. Even in the dance competitions I brought it to, where it is usually about how many turns you can do, the judges were very moved by what I showed them. I am currently pursuing my BFA in Dance and my BA in Entrepreneurial Studies. My dream is to create a dance studio and continue using movement as a tool for healing. I want to teach young dancers that their emotions are not weaknesses to hide, but experiences that they can work through, share, and transform. My journey has shown me that mental health support saves lives, and I hope to build a future where dance is a safe space for young people to face their struggles-with courage, connection, and hope. Thank you for your consideration.

My Dad took his life on August 5, 2021. The details of that day will be forever burned in my mind. But what haunts me more than anything are the details I do not know. What was causing my Dad, my big, strong Dad, to be so unable to fight through the darkness that depression brings? What was causing the smartest person in my life to not understand that things would pass and get better? He kept it all inside. It festered and burned until he could see no way out except to leave. As he was contemplating ending his suffering, mine was just beginning. About 6 weeks before my Dad died, I began having terrible panic attacks. I had had small ones in the past but these were all encompassing and took over my life. I did not understand what was going on but I was desperate for it to stop. After my Dad died, they got even worse and I struggled to function. While people tried to be patient with me, many could not understand what was going on with me. I had teachers in my high school who made my struggles even worse because they did not know how to manage what I was going through. Their focus on rules and discipline instead of empathy deepened my shame and fear. This made me think even more about how my Dad must have felt when he kept everything inside Eventually, I understood that silence is what steals people from us. I continued therapy and added medication so I could get space from the panic attacks to learn how to use what I was learning in therapy. I shared with my family and friends how I was feeling and, if I could, what I thought I needed. As I shared, my friends shared back and I realized that while I was facing an enormous grief, most of my friends were facing some kind of struggle with their mental health. My courage to be open about mine encouraged them to do the same and we were able to help each other. I have been a dancer for my entire life but when my Dad left, it was so difficult to continue. However, I realized how much movement helped me so I worked hard to be able to continue and in the course of this, I discovered that I had things to say about my struggles, my Dad's, my friends'. So I created a solo called The Storm. I used this to be vulnerable and dance my story. It was brutally painful and it was beyond challenging. And it was healing. It was cathartic and actually helped me to realize how strong I actually was. It opened conversations about mental health that I do not think would have happened if I had not been so brave. Even in the dance competitions I brought it to, where it is usually about how many turns you can do, the judges were very moved by what I showed them. I am currently pursuing my BFA in Dance and my BA in Entrepreneurial Studies. My dream is to take over my Mom's dance studio and continue using movement as a tool for healing. I want to teach young dancers that their emotions are not weaknesses to hide, but experiences that they can work through, share, and transform. My journey has shown me that mental health support saves lives, and i hope to build a future where dance is a safe space for young people to face their struggles-with courage, connection, and hope. I appreciate your consideration of my application for this scholarship. The community of Mental Health Warriors is so much more powerful when we stand together so i also appreciate you offering this scholarship.

My name is Brenna Labus and I have been a dancer for 18 years. While dance can be artistic and beautiful, it certainly takes a trained athlete to be successful in dance! Earning this scholarship would help me achieve my goals as I continue dance as a Dance and Entrepreneurial Business major at the University of Iowa. As a competition dancer in high school, not only was I on my High School's varsity team for 4 years, but I continued to dance competitively with my home studio. I was awarded the Title of Miss Leap Sensation in Chicago 2021. In 2023, I won the title of Regional Champion for Uproar Dance Competition, First place overall soloist at Fluid Dance Competition, as well as winning the Leap For the Stars competition with Leap Dance Competition. I also made my way through the Teacher Training program and the Student Choreographer program at my home studio. In 2021, I lost my Dad to suicide. I was devastated and began having panic attacks that were on their way to becoming debilitating. I funnelled my grief, sadness, and confusion into a self choreographed solo called "The Storm". This was a turning point for me as a dancer and as an athlete. I was not dancing for a prize. I was dancing for me. I was dancing to share with my community. And I was dancing to heal. Someone I admire is my Mother because she is a very hard worker who makes constant sacrifices for me and for our family to be sure everyone has peace, happiness and what they need. Obviously, this has been extremely challenging since my Dad died, but she continues to try so hard to meet everyone's needs. She has also been a huge role model in how I should treat others and in relationships between myself and others. She has shown me how to make myself a priority and value communication in relationships. I am proud to say that not only is she my mom, but she was also my dance teacher and Artistic Director for the time while I was in studio dance. She has always encouraged me to fill my work with my passion, my joy, and yes, even my pain. This scholarship would go directly toward my college tuition. I am learning so much about how to be a dancer, a teacher, and a business owner and hope to someday to open a dance studio that combines the amazing background I was given at my home studio with more education to dancers about mental health and how to be both competitive and mindful. Earning scholarships is a way I can help ease my Mom's financial burdens. I am a dancer in the University of Iowa's Dance Department. I am regularly cast in pieces that are enriching my knowledge and capabilities, as well as stretching my limits as an artist. I use these opportunities to shine my light as an artist and athlete. I am also always looking for opportunities to share information and awareness about mental health. Whether this is through my work as an artist, volunteering with AFSP, or simply being brave enough to speak about my experiences, I am trying hard to allow my light to be contagious to others as well. I appreciate you taking the time to read this and am grateful for any consideration of me receiving this scholarship.

My Dad took his life on August 5, 2021. The details of that day will be forever burned in my mind. But what haunts me more than anything are the details I do not know. What was causing my Dad, my big, strong Dad, to be so unable to fight through the darkness that depression brings? What was causing the smartest person in my life to not understand that things would pass and get better? He kept it all inside. It festered and burned until he could see no way out except to leave. As he was contemplating ending his suffering, mine was just beginning. About 6 weeks before my Dad died, I began having terrible panic attacks. I had had small ones in the past but these were all encompassing and took over my life. I did not understand what was going on but I was desperate for it to stop. After my Dad died, they got even worse and I struggled to function. While people tried to be patient with me, many could not understand what was going on with me. I had teachers in my high school who made my struggles even worse because they did not know how to manage what I was going through. Their focus on rules and discipline instead of empathy deepened my shame and fear. This made me think even more about how my Dad must have felt when he kept everything inside Eventually, I understood that silence is what steals people from us. I continued therapy and added medication so I could get space from the panic attacks to learn how to use what I was learning in therapy. I shared with my family and friends how I was feeling and, if I could, what I thought I needed. As I shared, my friends shared back and I realized that while I was facing an enormous grief, most of my friends were facing some kind of struggle with their mental health. My courage to be open about mine encouraged them to do the same and we were able to help each other. I have been a dancer for my entire life but when my Dad left, it was so difficult to continue. However, I realized how much movement helped me so I worked hard to be able to continue and in the course of this, I discovered that I had things to say about my struggles, my Dad's, my friends'. So I created a solo called The Storm. I used this to be vulnerable and dance my story. It was brutally painful and it was beyond challenging. And it was healing. It was cathartic and actually helped me to realize how strong I actually was. It opened conversations about mental health that I do not think would have happened if I had not been so brave. Even in the dance competitions I brought it to, where it is usually about how many turns you can do, the judges were very moved by what I showed them. I am currently pursuing my BFA in Dance and my BA in Entrepreneurial Studies. My dream is to take over my Mom's dance studio and continue using movement as a tool for healing. I want to teach young dancers that their emotions are not weaknesses to hide, but experiences that they can work through, share, and transform. My journey has shown me that mental health support saves lives, and i hope to build a future where dance is a safe space for young people to face their struggles-with courage, connection, and hope.

In middle school, I gravitated toward stories where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Then, as I was going into my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We make assumptions about people we do not know: “They're fine.” “They're depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. Expanding our understanding of others is something I believe needs attention in the world. Living with mental health challenges is not a weakness; it is proof of resilience. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who cannot yet raise their own voices. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival-proof that art can transform pain into connection and change.

In middle school, I gravitated toward stories where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Then, as I was going into my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We make assumptions about people we do not know: “They're fine.” “They're depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. Expanding our understanding of others is something I believe needs attention in the world. Living with mental health challenges is not a weakness; it is proof of resilience. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who cannot yet raise their own voices. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival-proof that art can transform pain into connection and change.

In middle school, I gravitated toward stories where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Then, as I was going into my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We make assumptions about people we do not know: “They're fine.” “They're depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. Expanding our understanding of others is something I believe needs attention in the world. Living with mental health challenges is not a weakness; it is proof of resilience. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who cannot yet raise their own voices. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival-proof that art can transform pain into connection and change.

I grew up with a front row seat to business. My mom opened her own dance studio when I was in Kindergarten and my dad was always working on his own side hustles as he worked a full time job. Seeing their struggles and their successes inspired me in so many ways. I saw that my mom had such a passion for teaching new generations of dance students. She had an amazing grasp on the educational portion of it and spent years developing curriculum and teaching experiences, but it took her many trials to learn the business side of things and she often felt behind in her knowledge of accounting and marketing which often made her timid in terms of business sense. My dad, on the other hand, understood a lot about the business side of things; he had a great mind for the mechanics of it all and understood that staying current in a business sense was integral to success, but he lacked passion for anything he tried and so it ended up fizzling and he ended up frustrated. I also had the opportunity while in high school to work at a local boutique where the owner did all of the ordering, pricing, merchandising, all of it! I loved hearing her thoughts on what would be successful, when it was time to sell for whatever you could get, and what the next big trend might be. I believe I can take the best of what they all taught me and learn the technical aspects of running a business and pair it with the passion required. In this vein, I am double majoring in business and dance and intend to pursue creating successful strategies to combine passion and technology as it pertains to a dance studio. I find marketing and advertising exciting as they create branding and draws your ideal customers in. Making someone desire something they had not even considered is exhilarating. Forecasting what will be trending and staying relevant are talents I have so much respect for. I am also intrigued by sales as there are both inside and outside sales associated with every business venture and it is very exciting to see the level of control you can have over creating the opportunity to turn a maybe into a yes! Finally, what some might consider mundane and boring-the numbers and the breakdowns of the data, I find fascinating! This is the roadmap to create the next sale! I would be honored to be considered for this scholarship to help me continue this pursuit.

In middle school, I gravitated toward books or television shows where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Three weeks before starting my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. It was later in the day. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We humans make these assumptions about people we do not know: “They are fine.” “They are depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. Adjusting our perspectives of other people is something I believe needs attention in the world. Having mental health issues is not a weakness; it is a superpower. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who are too afraid. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival. I have worked hard to cultivate meaningful relationships in my life. I have found that the journey of grief has allowed me

In middle school, I gravitated toward books or television shows where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Then, as I was going into my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. It was later in the day. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We humans make these assumptions about people we do not know: “They are fine.” “They are depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. I would love for everyone to challenge their own perspective of others. Having mental health issues is not a weakness; it is a superpower. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who are too afraid. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival.

My name is Brenna Labus and I have been a dancer for 18 years. While dance can be artistic and beautiful, it certainly takes a trained athlete to be successful in dance! Earning this scholarship would help me achieve my goals as I continue dance as a Dance and Entrepreneurial Business major at the University of Iowa. As a competition dancer in high school, not only was I on my High School's varsity team for 4 years, but I continued to dance competitively with my home studio. I was awarded the Title of Miss Leap Sensation in Chicago 2021. In 2023, I won the title of Regional Champion for Uproar Dance Competition, First place overall soloist at Fluid Dance Competition, as well as winning the Leap For the Stars competition with Leap Dance Competition. I also made my way through the Teacher Training program and the Student Choreographer program at my home studio. In 2021, I lost my Dad to suicide. I was devastated and began having panic attacks that were on their way to becoming debilitating. I funnelled my grief, sadness, and confusion into a self choreographed solo called "The Storm". This was a turning point for me as a dancer and as an athlete. I was not dancing for a prize. I was dancing for me. I was dancing to share with my community. And I was dancing to heal. Someone I admire is my Mother because she is a very hard worker who makes constant sacrifices for me and for our family to be sure everyone has peace, happiness and what they need. Obviously, this has been extremely challenging since my Dad died, but she continues to try so hard to meet everyone's needs. She has also been a huge role model in how I should treat others and in relationships between myself and others. She has shown me how to make myself a priority and value communication in relationships. I am proud to say that not only is she my mom, but she was also my dance teacher and Artistic Director for the time while I was in studio dance. She has always encouraged me to fill my work with my passion, my joy, and yes, even my pain. This scholarship would go directly toward my college tuition. I am learning so much about how to be a dancer, a teacher, and a business owner and hope to someday take over my Mom's studio. Earning scholarships is a way I can help ease my Mom's financial burdens. I am a dancer in the University of Iowa's Dance Department. I am regularly cast in pieces that are enriching my knowledge and capabilities, as well as stretching my limits as an artist. I appreciate you taking the time to read this and am grateful for any consideration of me receiving this scholarship.

My name is Brenna Labus and I am absolutely a "You Got It Girl"! I have been a dancer for 18 years and while dance can be artistic and beautiful, it certainly takes a trained athlete to be successful in dance! Earning this scholarship would help me achieve my goals as I continue dance as a dance and business major at the University of Iowa. As a competition dancer in high school, not only was I on my High School's varsity team for 4 years, but I continued to dance competitively with my home studio. I was awarded the Title of Miss Leap Sensation in Chicago 2021. In 2023, I won the title of Regional Champion for Uproar Dance Competition, First place overall soloist at Fluid Dance Competition, as well as winning the Leap For the Stars competition with Leap Dance Competition. I also made my way through the Teacher Training program and the Student Choreographer program at my home studio. In 2021, I lost my Dad to suicide. I was devastated and began having panic attacks that were on their way to becoming debilitating. I funnelled my grief, sadness, and confusion into a self choreographed solo called "The Storm". This was a turning point for me as a dancer and as an athlete. I was not dancing for a prize. I was dancing for me. I was dancing to share with my community. And I was dancing to heal. Someone I admire is my Mother because she is a very hard worker who makes constant sacrifices for me and for our family to be sure everyone has peace, happiness and what they need. Obviously, this has been extremely challenging since my Dad died, but she continues to try so hard to meet everyone's needs. She has also been a huge role model in how I should treat others and in relationships between myself and others. She has shown me how to make myself a priority and value communication in relationships. This scholarship would go directly toward my college tuition. I am learning so much about how to be a dancer, a teacher, and a business owner and hope to someday take over my Mom's studio. Earning scholarships is a way I can help ease my Mom's financial burdens. I am a dancer in the University of Iowa's Dance Department. I am regularly cast in pieces that are enriching my knowledge and capabilities. I appreciate you taking the time to read this and am grateful for any consideration of me receiving this scholarship.

I grew up with a front row seat to business. My mom opened her own dance studio when I was in Kindergarten and my dad was always working on his own side hustles as he worked a full time job. Seeing their struggles and their successes inspired me in so many ways. I saw that my mom had such a passion for teaching new generations of dance students. She had an amazing grasp on the educational portion of it and spent years developing curriculum and teaching experiences, but it took her many trials to learn the business side of things and she often felt behind in her knowledge of accounting and marketing which often made her timid in terms of business sense. My dad, on the other hand, understood a lot about the business side of things; he had a great mind for the mechanics of it all and understood that staying current in a business sense was integral to success, but he lacked passion for anything he tried and so it ended up fizzling and he ended up frustrated. I also had the opportunity while in high school to work at a local boutique where the owner did all of the ordering, proving, merchandising, all of it! I loved hearing her thoughts on what would be successful, when it was time to sell for whatever you could get, and what the next big trend might be. I believe I can take the best of what they all taught me and learn the technical aspects of running a business and pair it with the passion required. In this vein, I am double majoring in business and dance and intend to pursue creating successful strategies to combine passion and technology as it pertains to a dance studio. I find marketing and advertising exciting as they create branding and draws your ideal customers in. Making someone desire something they had not even considered is exhilarating. Forecasting what will be trending and staying relevant are talents I have so much respect for. I am also intrigued by sales as there are both inside and outside sales associated with every business venture and it is very exciting to see the level of control you can have over creating the opportunity to turn a maybe into a yes! Finally, what some might consider mundane and boring-the numbers and the breakdowns of the data, I find fascinating! This is the roadmap to create the next sale! I would be honored to be considered for this scholarship to help me continue this pursuit.

In middle school, I gravitated toward books or television shows where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Then, as I was going into my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. It was later in the day. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We humans make these assumptions about people we do not know: “They are fine.” “They are depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. Maturing our perspectives of other people is something I believe needs attention in the world. Having mental health issues is not a weakness; it is a superpower. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who are too afraid. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival.

In middle school, I gravitated toward books or television shows where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Then, as I was going into my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. It was later in the day. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We humans make these assumptions about people we do not know: “They are fine.” “They are depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. Maturing our perspectives of other people is something I believe needs attention in the world. Having mental health issues is not a weakness; it is a superpower. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who are too afraid. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival.

In middle school, I gravitated toward books or television shows where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Then, as I was going into my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. It was later in the day. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We humans make these assumptions about people we do not know: “They are fine.” “They are depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. Maturing our perspectives of other people is something I believe needs attention in the world. Having mental health issues is not a weakness; it is a superpower. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who are too afraid. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival.

I began my journey with anxiety and panic attacks in the spring of 2021. I did not really understand what was happening and truly thought I was dying. Learning that it was my brain doing this to me was shocking and I became determined to get help. Then in August of 2021, my dad took his own life. This devastation has been beyond any pain I could ever describe and increased my anxiety exponentially. Due to dealing with the loss of my dad, I have now added depression to the list of mental illness issues I have to deal with. I have also recently been diagnosed with Trichotillomania which is a disorder that makes me pull my hair out. When I am low, it is an enormous challenge to make academics a priority. I find myself procrastinating and then having anxiety about my long to do list. While I do maintain a 3.75 GPA and am well regarded in my major department, this is through great effort and determination. Depression and anxiety can also make me want to isolate from my friends. When I am in a tough place, Nothing sounds fun. I have very little desire to socialize. I also find that pulling my hair out is an anxiety response as well as an anxiety provoker. I am very self conscious about others being able to see that I have pulled my hair out. I have been in therapy since my panic attacks began. I try to keep my appointments no matter where I am or what I may have going on because I know that I need this. Through therapy, I have learned so many tools to cope with my anxiety and depression. One of my favorite tools has been learning about IFS-Internal Family Systems. IFS has made me more aware of why my brain works the way it does. It has also helped me to change my perspective from needing to change myself, to accepting that this is the way my beautiful brain works. However, I will acknowledge that knowing the tools and using them can sometimes be two separate things. I have found my authenticity to be one of my greatest strengths in this quest. I have surrounded myself with people who love me, people who know the real me, and people who are brave enough to ask me if I am ok. They recognize my symptoms and let me know that they care and I do not have to hide. This gives me the space to love myself as much as they do and use my tools.

In middle school, I gravitated toward books or television shows where the main character had experienced devastation. Never would I have thought I would become one of those characters in real life. Then, as I was going into my junior year of high school, my dad died by suicide. If I had the right words to explain the unbearable heartbreak my family and I felt, I would lay them all out on a piece of paper; however, since words cannot even begin to explain that pain, let me share the journey I have tackled since August 5, 2021. It was later in the day. I had just finished a long day of dance and was waiting for my mom, the studio owner, to finish up so we could leave. While waiting in the lobby, my sister recklessly pulled into the parking lot. She rushed in, teary-eyed, struggling to get words out. It was just me in the room when she spoke the words that would flip my world upside-down. “Dad killed himself”. To this day, I still remember the exact wave of panic I felt going through my body hearing those three words. The world spun. It was as if my heart detached from my body, leaving nothing but numbness. Chaos, physically and mentally. I remember being in a daze of disbelief. This only happens in movies. This cannot be real; I have to be dreaming. Wake up. These thoughts raced through my head endlessly, taking over my whole body. Until suddenly, they stopped. I was left with the silent realization that it was real, admitting I would never see my dad ever again. We tirelessly searched for an answer for days with no note, no goodbye, and no explanation. I blamed myself for a long time. I regretted spending my teen years giving an unnecessary attitude toward my dad. Feeling that regret encouraged me to appreciate those still here as much as possible. The following months were full of learning experiences. I began my struggle with anxiety before my dad’s passing, but it only worsened afterward. I never realized how many people dealt with anxiety and depression, like I was, on a day-to-day basis. It opened my eyes to how stigmatized and quieted these topics are. Making small efforts to use my voice, I began noticing how capable I was of making a difference. Mental health is a topic that needs to be addressed and will always be something I advocate for, no matter where I am. We humans make these assumptions about people we do not know: “They are fine.” “They are depressed.” “They do not care enough.” “They care too much.” "Their life is so easy." In reality, we will never know the life of someone behind their smile. I have not only learned this through the unexpected loss of my dad, but also due to others’ perceptions of me. Maturing our perspectives of other people is something I believe needs attention in the world. Having mental health issues is not a weakness; it is a superpower. It gives you incredible strength. So I will continue to speak up for those who are too afraid. I was given the opportunity to choreograph several dances that gave an artistic voice to my pain. One was a solo for myself called "The Storm" that was not only well received, but also cathartic and a conversation starter for my dance community. This inspired me to continue to study dance in college so I can not only improve as a dancer, but as a story teller-sharing stories of hope and survival.