We threw off our backpacks and plopped down, ready to rest after a weeklong backpacking trip. My youth group was exhausted, and as we sat in the aspen shade, we were thankful for the reprieve. Then our leader introduced us to the Barnabas Project. With an emphasis on encouragement, he explained how giving genuine compliments can help us flourish and find our passion in ministry. As eager as I was to be praised, I was selected to go last. When it was eventually my turn, my leader immediately dove into how he had seen me grow, not just on the trip, but in the years he had known me. He compared me to the quiet leadership of Jesus, the most impactful compliment I had ever received. Then Kate went, completely transforming my perspective. Her brother, Hunter, was excited to enter middle school because he wanted a relationship—with me. At this, I started bawling. Hunter, a quiet kid I had rarely interacted with, wanted a connection with me, the goofy Christian sophomore. Shortly after the trip, my youth leader asked if I would lead WyldLife, a ministry for middle schoolers. I was eager to recreate the connection I had with Hunter with others, so I said yes. After training, we held our first meeting, called Club. For one hour each week, we bonded, playing baby food roulette and learning about Jesus. At the time, I believed leadership meant taking charge and keeping things under control. When things went wrong, I felt like I was failing myself and the people I was supposed to lead. We strove to create an inclusive environment, but some kids continually interrupted us and excluded others. Despite our efforts, those patterns persisted for months. This was frustrating; if I couldn’t lead well, I wasn’t just failing as a leader, I was failing the very kids I wanted to impact. I was disciplining them, not shepherding them, and nothing was changing. As we entered the second semester, our challenges continued. The more I pushed against their behavior, the more they pushed back, not concentrating on the lessons and missing the point of WyldLife: Jesus. I realized my instinct was to control situations, correct behavior quickly, and prove I could lead. But that approach wasn’t working, and it wasn’t helping the kids grow. Instead of continuing my resistance, I decided to listen. One Club, two best friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of scolding him for his actions, I sat down with him. He explained to me the series of events that had led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. My approach to leadership changed after this conversation. As the semester progressed, I applied this technique of attentive listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having genuine conversations, and the environment of peace and fun I desired for WyldLife began to manifest. We still had problems, but with my new perspective, they became more remediable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. I think back to the aspen shade, where I realized I wanted to lead and shepherd. Then, it meant mentoring middle schoolers in my community. Now, as I transition to college, I will carry the lesson I learned from Hunter: a real leader connects with the people he serves, driving those around him to trust and follow.

When most people think of “March Madness,” they think of the epic college basketball bracket that produces the national champion. I think of the debate I won my sophomore year organized by Talley Nichols. Armed with Cosimo de’ Medici, I was ready to answer the question, “Who was the biggest bridge to the modern world?” Talley, through this competition, taught my grade the importance of rhetoric and oration. For me, debates and dialectics became favorite activities, regardless of topic. I’ve debated the dropping of the nuclear bomb, how to effectively protect the environment, and if cereal is a soup. Talley instilled my joy for conversation, but she is influential in more ways than that. Growing up, I often wondered what I was going to be when I grew up, but could never settle on a single answer. This posed a challenge, as it felt like I was asked this question every day. So I started brainstorming. First, I was set on police officer. Shortly after, I upgraded myself to Secret Service. Next, marine biologist (until I realized I didn’t like saltwater). Then, I was going to be a biomedical engineer, a YoungLife leader, or an economist. College is an opportunity for me to explore all of my interests. I won't be locked into only taking one set of classes, so I can truly find what I want to be when I grow up. At Notre Dame, I will study economics, as I’ve recently discovered my zeal for the subject, all because of Talley. In my social studies classes with Talley, we explored the pros and cons of different economic systems, applications of these systems in the real world, and how the economy and stock market adapt to match man made conditions. When we discussed capitalism versus communism, her nuanced perspective allowed me to develop my beliefs, while also learning the history of each country; I can look at how their story has an impact on how their country is run to this day. Her class has given me a global perspective, leading me to pursue an Economics major next year. Talley is a stellar teacher. Her style invites all students to participate in open discussion, and she encourages us to be active citizens, engaged and participating in our country. She put me on my current career path, and empowered me to become a confident public speaker. I am proud and thankful to have been taught by her.

As I entered my sophomore year of high school, I was presented with the opportunity to join the National Honor Society and choose which committees to participate in. When I first read “Empty Bowls Committee,” I had never heard of it. When I found out it raised money for our local food bank, I was excited to participate. I showed up to the meetings, made my great grandfather’s award-winning chili, and did my part for the group. However, I noticed a few aspects that could be improved, such as the variety of dishes, advertising, and more means for fundraising. The next year, I was appointed head of the Empty Bowls Committee. Instead of waiting until the last minute to coordinate, I started early, clearly defining roles and responsibilities for each leader and member. Then, I coordinated a partnership with the local pottery studio to make bowls to raffle off at the event. This involved the community and created another source of income for the food bank. Finally, I challenged each member to reach out to a local business or resident to sponsor Empty Bowls in return for recognition at the event. These new fundraising methods, combined with the dedication of the entire committee, raised the most money out of an Empty Bowls event in my school’s history. My ingenuity and leadership helped the NHS make a significant contribution to the food bank, aiding in the fight against food insecurity in our valley. Next, I will help the new leaders of Empty Bowls grow the event even larger, and I will monitor all of the other committees as president. This way, I can help every event have the same impact that Empty Bowls did.

We threw off our backpacks and plopped down, ready to rest after the weeklong backpacking trip. My youth group was exhausted, and as we sat down in the aspen shade, we were thankful for the reprieve. Then, our leader introduced the Barnabas Project to us. With an emphasis on encouragement, he explained how giving genuine compliments to each other can help us flourish and find our passion in ministry. As eager as I was to be praised, I was selected to go last. When it was eventually my turn, my leader dove into how he had seen me grow, not just on the trip, but in the years he had known me. He compared me to the quiet leader of Jesus, easily the most impactful compliment I had ever received. Until Kate went, completely transforming my perspective on what I needed to prioritize. Her brother, Hunter, was excited to enter middle school because he wanted to forge a relationship: with me. At this, I started bawling. Hunter, a quiet kid with whom I had rarely interacted, desired a relationship with me, the goofy Christian sophomore. Shortly after the backpacking trip, my youth group leader reached out to ask if I wanted to lead WyldLife, a Christian ministry for middle schoolers. I wanted to recreate Hunter’s and my connection with others, so I eagerly accepted the opportunity. After training, we had our first WyldLife meeting, called Club. For one hour a week, we bonded at the meetings, playing baby food roulette and learning about Jesus. The leaders wanted to create an inclusive environment, but some kids continually interrupted us and excluded others. Despite our efforts to lead by example, some remained in the same patterns for the first semester. This was frustrating, as I felt like I wasn’t living up to my epiphany. I was disciplining these kids, not shepherding them, and no change was coming from it. As we entered the second semester, our challenges continued. The more I pushed against their behavior, the more they pushed back, not concentrating on the lessons, and missing the more important point of WyldLife: Jesus. Instead of continuing my resistance, I decided to listen. One Club, two best friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of scolding him for his actions, I sat down with him. He explained to me the series of events that had led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. My approach to leadership changed after this conversation. As the WyldLife semester progressed, I continued attentively listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having real conversations, and the environment of peace and fun I desired for WyldLife began to manifest. Granted, we still had problems, but with my new perspective on leading, they became more remediable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. Service is a lifelong commitment. WyldLife taught me that leadership grows from empathy, listening, and genuine connection. At Notre Dame, I will use economics, politics, and philosophy to create meaningful solutions, uplift communities, and expand the impact of compassionate, thoughtful service, carrying forward the lessons I learned from Hunter.

"Kindness in Action" We threw off our backpacks and plopped down, ready to rest after a weeklong youth backpacking trip. Exhausted, we sat in the aspen shade, grateful for a pause. Our leader introduced the Barnabas Project, emphasizing encouragement and giving authentic compliments to help each other flourish. When it was my turn, he spoke about my growth over the years, comparing me to the quiet leader of Jesus, easily the most genuine, impactful compliment I have ever received. Shortly after, I was asked to help lead WyldLife, a Christian ministry for middle schoolers. I was excited to recreate the connection I had felt with others, especially with kids like Hunter, a quiet middle-schooler who wanted to build a friendship with me. One WyldLife meeting, two best friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of disciplining him, I sat down and listened. He explained the events that led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. That conversation changed my approach to leadership. As the semester progressed, I applied attentive listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having real conversations, and the environment of peace and fun I had hoped for started to manifest. Granted, challenges still arose, but with this perspective, they became more manageable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. I think back to that aspen shade, where I realized I wanted to lead and shepherd. Volunteering with WyldLife has become an integral part of who I am. As I transition to college, I will take that desire to lead with me, carrying the lessons I learned: a real leader connects with the people he serves, encouraging those around him to trust and follow. “Creating Connection” The first time I truly felt at home in a new place, I was holding a guitar. I’ve lived in four different states, and each move meant starting over with a new school, new people, and new surroundings. But music gave me something constant. It became more than just an interest; it is how I build connections. Through the years, music has taught me discipline through daily practice, resilience through difficult pieces, and curiosity as I explore new styles. As the guitarist for my school’s jazz band, I've learned that music is as much about listening as it is about playing. Rehearsals aren't always smooth; at times, we struggle to find cohesion. But working through challenging moments has shown me the importance of adaptability, communication, and trust. Music has become a shared responsibility, where success depends on how well we support one another. On recent camping trip with my senior class, I found myself sitting by the campfire, playing music with my classmates as they sang along. I felt a sense of belonging that I had been building toward for years. In that moment, music wasn’t about performance or practice; it was about connection. This year, I will be singing and playing guitar at my high school graduation. In our small mountain town, graduation is more than a ceremony. The entire community gathers with Mount Crested Butte in the background, followed by a parade down Elk Avenue. Being able to contribute to that moment through music is deeply meaningful. It represents not just years of effort, but a way of giving back to a community that has supported me. Next fall, when I settle into a new space at Notre Dame, guitar in hand, I won’t just be playing. I’ll be home.

The first time I truly felt at home in a new place, I was holding a guitar. I’ve lived in four different states, and each move meant starting over with a new school, new people, and new surroundings. But music gave me something constant. It became more than just an interest; it was how I built connections, expressed myself, and found stability in unfamiliar environments. Six years ago, while living in Nashville, I began taking guitar lessons with my teacher, Drew. Even after moving to a small Colorado ski town, our lessons continued over Zoom, bridging the distance and providing a sense of continuity. Through those years, music taught me discipline through daily practice, resilience through difficult pieces, and curiosity as I explored new styles. My musical interests gradually expanded. What began with rock grew into campfire-style acoustic playing, then into jazz and bluegrass. Learning songs like “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” “American Pie,” and “All the Things You Are” pushed me to develop both technical skill and deeper musical understanding. Jazz, in particular, challenged me to think differently. I’ve learned complex chord voicings, transcribed solos, and applied music theory in real time. It taught me how to balance structure with creativity. As the guitarist for my school’s jazz band, I learned that music is as much about listening as it is about playing. Rehearsals weren’t always smooth; at times, we struggled to find cohesion. But working through those moments showed me the importance of adaptability, communication, and trust. Music became a shared responsibility, where success depended on how well we supported one another. Outside of jazz band, I was one of the founding members of Nobody Fancy, a bluegrass group, and began learning the banjo. Starting over on a new instrument was humbling, but it reinforced a mindset I’ve carried into other parts of my life: growth comes from stepping into discomfort. With guidance from my teacher, I explored new techniques and traditions, broadening my skills and perspective. This year, I will be singing and playing guitar at my high school graduation. While I’ve always been confident on guitar, singing in front of others pushes me outside my comfort zone. Preparing for this performance with my friend Cole, I’ve worked to develop confidence in my voice as well as my playing. Together, we will perform “Good Riddance” and “Call Your Mom,” perfect songs to capture the nostalgia of high school while encouraging my class to do great things. In our small mountain town, graduation is more than a ceremony. The entire community gathers with Mount Crested Butte in the background, followed by a parade down Elk Avenue. Being able to contribute to that moment through music is deeply meaningful. It represents not just years of effort, but a way of giving back to a community that has supported me. Next fall, when I settle into a new space at Notre Dame, guitar in hand, I won’t just be playing. I’ll be home.

My name is Brody Jennings, and I am a senior planning to major in International Economics at University of Notre Dame. Thank you for the opportunity to apply for this scholarship, and I hope you consider me a worthy recipient. Being able to establish my career across a wide variety of fields is one of my goals heading into college. My degree in economics will provide me that opportunity. Technology, finance, and government sectors are all hiring economists to advise and help them grow. After graduation, I look forward to applying my theoretical knowledge into real world business. I’ve been a consistent high-achieving student, maintaining a 4.0 GPA, on top of my extracurricular activities, including my work as president of the National Honor Society, and my volunteer work with local Christian ministry WyldLife. I’ve enjoyed working with WyldLife from my junior year until now, and it has provided some of my favorite memories during high school. During my first year leading WyldLife, the other leaders and I wanted to create an inclusive environment, but some kids continually interrupted us and excluded others. Despite our efforts to lead by example, some remained in the same patterns for the first semester. This was obviously frustrating—especially for me. I was disciplining these kids, not shepherding them, and no change was coming from it. As we entered the second semester, our challenges continued. The more I pushed against their behavior, the more they pushed back, not concentrating on the lessons, and missing the more important point of WyldLife: Jesus. Instead of continuing my resistance, I decided to listen. One Club, two best friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of scolding him for his actions, I sat down with him. He explained to me the series of events that had led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. My approach to leadership changed after this conversation. As the WyldLife semester progressed, I applied this technique of attentive listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having real conversations, and that environment of peace and fun that I desired for WyldLife began to manifest. Granted, we still had problems, but with my new perspective on leading, they became more remediable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. The lessons I’ve learned through my family, education, and leadership have prepared me for the opportunities and challenges beyond Crested Butte. I am excited to continue growing through my economics studies, and eager to pursue my passion of mentorship as I leave the valley. Thank you for considering my application and for supporting students like me.

My name is Brody Jennings, and I am a senior planning to major in International Economics at University of Notre Dame. Thank you for the opportunity to apply for this scholarship, and I hope you consider me a worthy recipient. Being able to establish my career across a wide variety of fields is one of my goals heading into college. My degree in economics will provide me that opportunity. Technology, finance, and government sectors are all hiring economists to advise and help them grow. After graduation, I look forward to applying my theoretical knowledge into real world business. I’ve been a consistent high-achieving student, maintaining a 4.0 GPA, on top of my extracurricular activities, including my work as president of the National Honor Society, and my volunteer work with local Christian ministry WyldLife. I’ve enjoyed working with WyldLife from my junior year until now, and it has provided some of my favorite memories during high school. In my sophomore year, my youth group leader reached out to ask if I wanted to lead WyldLife. I wanted to mentor the youth in my valley, so I agreed. After training, we had our first meeting, called Club. For one hour a week, we bonded at Club, playing games and learning about Jesus. The leaders wanted to create an inclusive environment, but some kids continually interrupted and excluded others. Despite our efforts to lead by example, some remained in the same patterns for the first semester. This was frustrating—especially for me. I was disciplining these kids, not shepherding them, and no change resulted. Instead of continuing my resistance, I decided to listen. One Club, two friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of scolding him for his actions, I sat down with him. He explained to me the events that had led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. My approach to leadership changed after this conversation. As the WyldLife semester progressed, I applied this technique of attentive listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having real conversations, and that environment of peace and fun that I desired for WyldLife began to manifest. Granted, we still had problems, but with my new perspective on leading, they became more remediable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. WyldLife changed my life, and has the capacity to change the lives of everyone involved, leaders and kids alike. If I was to start my own charity, I would start something similar to WyldLife. It would still minister to middle schoolers, but it would place a larger emphasis on mentoring leaders as well. For each local group, high school students would make up the majority of the leaders, with one employee to disciple and guide the high schoolers as they begin their leadership journey. With each group, middle schoolers could experience the love of Jesus, and high schoolers could experience what genuine leadership looks like. WyldLife provided this for me, so I want to provide it for others in return.

My name is Brody Jennings, and I am a senior planning to major in International Economics at University of Notre Dame. Thank you for the opportunity to apply for this scholarship, and I hope you consider me a worthy recipient. Being able to establish my career across a wide variety of fields is one of my goals heading into college. My degree in economics will provide me that opportunity. Technology, finance, and government sectors are all hiring economists to advise and help them grow. After graduation, I look forward to applying my theoretical knowledge into real world business. Attending Notre Dame is expensive, and they are reluctant to distribute merit scholarships. The Kalia D. Davis Scholarship will go towards my tuition, and will empower me to pursue my future without hesitation due to finances. I’ve been a consistent high-achieving student, maintaining a 4.0 GPA, on top of my extracurricular activities, including my work as president of the National Honor Society, and my volunteer work with local Christian ministry WyldLife. I’ve enjoyed working with WyldLife from my junior year until now, and it has provided some of my favorite memories during high school. During my first year leading WyldLife, the other leaders and I wanted to create an inclusive environment, but some kids continually interrupted us and excluded others. Despite our efforts to lead by example, some remained in the same patterns for the first semester. This was obviously frustrating—especially for me. I was disciplining these kids, not shepherding them, and no change was coming from it. As we entered the second semester, our challenges continued. The more I pushed against their behavior, the more they pushed back, not concentrating on the lessons, and missing the more important point of WyldLife: Jesus. Instead of continuing my resistance, I decided to listen. One Club, two best friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of scolding him for his actions, I sat down with him. He explained to me the series of events that had led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. My approach to leadership changed after this conversation. As the WyldLife semester progressed, I applied this technique of attentive listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having real conversations, and that environment of peace and fun that I desired for WyldLife began to manifest. Granted, we still had problems, but with my new perspective on leading, they became more remediable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. The lessons I’ve learned through my family, education, and leadership have prepared me for the opportunities and challenges beyond Crested Butte. I am excited to continue growing through my economics studies, and eager to pursue my passion of mentorship as I leave my valley. Thank you for considering my application and for supporting students like me.

We threw off our backpacks and plopped down, ready to rest after the weeklong backpacking trip. My youth group was exhausted. We sat down in the aspen shade, thankful for the reprieve. Then, our leader introduced the Barnabas Project to us. With an emphasis on encouragement, he explained how giving genuine compliments to each other can help us flourish and find our passion in ministry. As eager as I was to be praised, I was selected to go last. When it was my turn, my leader dove into how he had seen me grow, not just on the trip, but in the years he had known me. He compared me to the quiet leader of Jesus, easily the most impactful, fulfilling compliment I had received. Until Kate went, completely transforming my perspective on what I needed to prioritize. Her brother, Hunter, was excited to enter middle school because he wanted to forge a relationship: with me. At this, I started bawling. Hunter, a quiet kid with whom I had rarely interacted, desired a relationship with me, the goofy Christian sophomore. After my backpacking trip, my leader reached out to ask if I wanted to lead WyldLife, a Christian ministry for middle schoolers. I was delighted at the opportunity, eager to recreate Hunter’s and my connection with others. After training, we had our first WyldLife meeting, called Club. For one hour a week, we bonded at Club, playing baby food roulette and learning about Jesus. The leaders wanted to create an inclusive environment, but some kids continued to interrupt and exclude others. Despite our efforts to lead by example, some remained in the same patterns for the first semester. This was obviously frustrating—especially for me, as I felt like I wasn’t living up to my epiphany. I was disciplining these kids, not shepherding them, and no change was coming from it. As we entered the second semester, our challenges continued. The more I pushed against their behavior, the more they pushed back, not concentrating on the lessons, and missing the more important point of WyldLife: Jesus. Instead of continuing my resistance, I decided to listen. One Club, two best friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of scolding him for his actions, I sat down with him. He explained to me the series of events that had led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. My approach to leadership changed after this conversation. As the WyldLife semester progressed, I applied this technique of attentive listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having real conversations, and that environment of peace and fun that I desired for WyldLife began to manifest. Granted, we still had problems, but with my new perspective on leading, they became more remediable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. I think back to aspen shade, where I realized that I wanted to lead and shepherd. At that moment, this meant leading the middle schoolers in my community. Now, as I transition out of my rural hometown into college, I am taking that desire to lead with me. Volunteering with WyldLife has become an integral part of who I am, and in college I will take whatever opportunities I find to lead and volunteer. I will carry the lesson I learned from Hunter: a real leader connects with the people he serves, driving those around him to trust and follow.

In my sophomore summer, my youth group leader reached out to me to ask if I wanted to lead WyldLife, a Christian ministry for middle schoolers. I was delighted at the opportunity, and we had our first WyldLife meeting, called Club, soon after. For one hour a week, our group bonded at Club, playing baby food roulette and learning about Jesus. The leaders wanted to create an inclusive environment, but some kids continued to interrupt us and exclude others. Despite our efforts to lead by example, some remained in the same patterns for the first semester. This was obviously frustrating—especially for me, as I was disciplining these kids, not shepherding them, and no change was coming from it. As we entered the second semester, our challenges continued. The more I pushed against their behavior, the more they pushed back, not concentrating on the lessons, and missing the more important point of WyldLife: Jesus. Instead of continuing my resistance, I decided to listen. One Club, two best friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of scolding him for his actions, I sat down with him. He explained to me the series of events that had led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. My approach to leadership changed after this conversation. As the WyldLife semester progressed, I applied this technique of attentive listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having real conversations, and that environment of peace and fun that I desired for WyldLife began to manifest. Granted, we still had problems, but with my new perspective on leading, they became more remediable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. For both in-person and online bullying, I utilize this leadership style to protect others. I guide people to resolve these problems, either by demonstrating how to end disagreements, or prompting a change in discussion that diverts attention from the target. Then, after some time, I always reach out to both the bully and the bullyee, to check in, and resolve any remaining issues. I’ve found that listening to all sides and acting as a mediator is the best way to end bullying. I've applied and been accepted in many schools that do not offer merit aid. These tuition expenses place a strain on my family’s financial situation, so this scholarship will help me be able to attend these high quality institutions without harming my family.

To me, serving is grounded in my Christian faith. I believe I should emulate Jesus, loving all and reflecting His character. The summer before my junior year, my youth group leader reached out to ask if I wanted to lead WyldLife, a Christian ministry for middle schoolers. I was thrilled about the opportunity to form new connections with these kids. After training, we had our first WyldLife meeting, called Club. The leaders worked hard to create an inclusive environment, but some kids consistently interrupted and excluded others. Despite our efforts to lead by example, some continued acting out throughout the first semester. This was obviously frustrating—especially for me. I was disciplining these kids, not shepherding them, and no change was coming from it. As we entered the second semester, the challenges continued. The more I pushed against their behavior, the more they pushed back, not concentrating on the lessons, and missing the more important point of WyldLife: Jesus. Instead of continuing my resistance, I decided to listen. One Club, two best friends had a falling out, with shoes thrown and insults hurled. I took one aside, and instead of scolding him for his actions, I sat down with him. He explained to me the series of events that had led up to their fight, and how, more than anything, he was afraid of losing a friend. My approach to leadership changed after this conversation. As the WyldLife semester progressed, I applied this technique of attentive listening to grow my relationships with the kids. We began having real conversations, and that environment of peace and fun that I desired for WyldLife began to manifest. Granted, we still had problems, but with my new perspective on leading, they became more remediable. I needed to listen, not command; serve, not control. As I move through college and beyond, community service will remain a high priority for me. In college, I will lead another WyldLife group, sharing my testimony and passion for Jesus with others. Once I begin my career, I will choose a path that allows me to spend time with my volunteer activities. I could continue helping with local food insecurity, like I did while organizing the NHS food bank donation, or I could depart on another mission trip, similarly to when I went to Peru, spending time and loving kids in a growing foster care system. My passion for service will never fade, and I will make sure it remains a priority for me in my future.