Being a varsity high school basketball player naturally comes with scrutiny, but being a 5’6 varsity basketball player comes with even more. I do not share that to seek sympathy. Instead, I believe the resilience and determination I have developed through basketball have become some of my greatest strengths. I have played basketball since I was four years old. Every year I worked to improve my skills, court vision, and basketball IQ. Yet one thing rarely changed; I was almost always the shortest player on the court. Sometimes that made me the underdog everyone wanted to watch. More often, it meant I had to prove myself every practice, every game, and every season. I learned early that I could not rely on my size to make an impression. Instead, I had to earn respect through my work ethic, preparation, and consistency. There have been countless moments when people underestimated me before I even stepped onto the court. Rather than becoming discouraged, I embraced the challenge. Every doubt became motivation to work harder, compete smarter, and demonstrate that determination, discipline, and basketball intelligence can outweigh physical stature. I have learned to focus on the things I can control; my effort, my attitude, and my willingness to outwork expectations. That mindset has become part of who I am. Basketball has also shown me the value of being part of something bigger than myself. Success is never the result of one player. It takes trust, communication, accountability, and a commitment to a shared goal. Through wins and defeats, I have learned how to encourage teammates, accept constructive criticism, and remain positive when circumstances do not go my way. Those experiences have taught me that leadership is not always measured by points scored or minutes played. Sometimes it is demonstrated through consistency, preparation, and the willingness to do whatever the team needs. One lesson that has stayed with me is that effort is something no one can measure. I cannot control my height, but I can control how prepared I am, how hard I compete, and how I respond when faced with adversity. Over time, I realized those qualities matter far beyond basketball. They influence how I approach difficult classes, how I support my teammates and classmates, and how I continue pushing forward even when success is not immediate. While many people see basketball as simply a game, I see it as the foundation of my resilience. The perseverance I developed on the court has carried over into every aspect of my life, especially in the classroom. When I encounter difficult coursework or concepts, I approach them the same way I approach a tough opponent. It’s with preparation, persistence, and confidence that hard work will produce results. The discipline I have built through years of basketball has directly contributed to my academic success. As I plan to pursue a degree in chemical engineering, I know there will be challenges that require patience, problem-solving, and determination. Fortunately, basketball has already prepared me for those moments. It has taught me that success is not determined by the obstacles placed in front of you but by how you respond to them. Being the smallest player on the court never limited what I could accomplish. Instead, it taught me to let my perseverance, work ethic, and character define me. These lessons that will continue to guide me throughout college, my career, and my life.

Many people are surprised when I tell them I compete in three varsity sports: basketball, cross country, and track. At first glance, they seem completely different, but each one has taught me something valuable. Together, they have shaped the way I approach challenges in the classroom and in life. Basketball was my first sport, and I have been playing since I was four years old. It taught me discipline, teamwork, and the importance of staying focused even when things do not go as planned. Cross country and track challenged me in a different way. Unlike basketball, where you can rely on teammates during a game, distance running often comes down to your own mindset. There are no shortcuts. Improvement comes from showing up every day, putting in the work, and trusting the process even when progress feels slow. Balancing three sports with rigorous academics has never been easy. Between practices, meets, games, travel, and homework, my schedule is often stretched from early morning until late at night. There have been many evenings when I finished practice, came home tired, and still had to study for an AP Chemistry test or complete a challenging AP Precalculus assignment. Those moments taught me how to manage my time, stay organized, and prioritize what mattered most. Instead of seeing a busy schedule as an obstacle, I learned to see it as an opportunity to become more disciplined. That mindset has paid off both in the classroom and in athletics. Through consistent effort and careful time management, I have maintained a 4.7273 weighted GPA while earning a class rank of 3 out of 656. Those numbers represent more than academic achievement; they reflect countless early mornings, late nights, and a commitment to giving my best in everything I do. Balancing demanding coursework with three varsity sports has taught me that success is built through consistency rather than convenience. Being a student-athlete has also changed the way I think about success. Success is not always measured by winning a race, scoring the most points, or earning the highest grade. More often, it is about the decisions to stay committed, keep improving, and give your best effort even when no one is watching. Some of my greatest lessons have come after disappointing performances or difficult exams. Those experiences reminded me that setbacks are temporary if I am willing to learn from them and keep moving forward. The perseverance I have developed through sports has carried into every area of my life. It has helped me challenge myself academically, become involved in clubs and community service, and pursue my goal of studying chemical engineering. Whether I am solving a difficult math problem, running the final stretch of a race, or working toward a long-term goal, I know success requires patience, consistency, and resilience. Playing three sports while maintaining strong academic performance has not always been easy, but I would not trade the experience. Athletics have taught me lessons that extend far beyond competition. They have shown me that growth comes from commitment, that leadership begins with self-awareness, and that the habits I build today will prepare me for the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead.

My interest in STEM didn’t come from one moment. It developed over time through experiences that shaped how I think about myself and what I want to do after high school. As a black male interested in STEM, I’ve also come to understand that success in this field takes more than just doing well in math or science. It takes discipline, consistency, and the ability to keep going when things get difficult. Three moments really stand out in shaping my path. The first comes from sports. I’ve played basketball since I was four years old, so it has always been a major part of my life. Over time, I had to be honest with myself that I probably wouldn’t be playing at a high level beyond high school. That realization wasn’t easy, but it taught me how to handle setbacks and adjust without losing motivation. Basketball taught me discipline and accountability, but track and cross country pushed me in a different way. Those sports are more about endurance and mental toughness and learning how to keep going even when you’re exhausted and want to stop. That mindset has carried over into my academics and how I approach challenges in STEM. The second moment came when I started realizing I actually enjoy math and science more when the problems are difficult. I don’t like just memorizing steps. I like understanding why something works. STEM feels like that kind of thinking: breaking problems down, figuring out patterns, and staying with something until it makes sense. Chemical engineering interests me because it applies that kind of thinking to real-world problems like energy, materials, and environmental challenges. It feels meaningful because it’s not just theory, it’s using science and math to solve problems that affect people’s lives. The third moment is more personal. My late grandfather was a mechanical engineer, and I had the privilege of seeing how he could fix or figure out almost anything. He was a natural problem solver. Even outside of his job, he had a way of looking at something, thinking through it calmly, and figuring it out step by step. Learning from him made STEM feel more real to me. It showed me that engineering is not just formulas or equations, it’s patience, creativity, and problem-solving. I think about him often when I’m working through something difficult because it reminds me to slow down and stay persistent. Alongside these experiences, my academic journey has shown me that I can compete at a high level. I currently rank 3rd in my class out of 656 students with a 4.7273 GPA. That achievement reflects consistency more than anything else. I’m balancing challenging coursework, athletics, and everything else that comes with high school. It has also pushed me to keep raising my expectations for myself as I prepare for college and more advanced STEM coursework. These experiences have shaped not only my academic direction, but also how I see my role as a black male entering STEM. Representation matters, and I take that seriously. I want to pursue STEM not just for my own success, but to show what is possible and to contribute to solving real-world problems. Chemical engineering feels like the right path for me, and I’m ready to keep building toward that future.

Option 2: The first time I realized how powerful human connection could be, it wasn’t in a lecture or on a screen, it was in a quiet moment after a basketball game. We had lost, and the gym had mostly emptied. I remember sitting on the bench, still in my uniform, when one of my teammates came back, sat next to me, and didn’t say anything at first. He just sat there. Then he said, “We’ll figure it out together.” It wasn’t a speech or a solution, but in that moment, it meant everything. That simple act of presence reminded me that connection is often less about what is said and more about showing up for someone. In a world increasingly driven by technology, it is easy to confuse communication with connection. We text instead of talk, scroll instead of sit with each other, and react instead of listen. Technology has made it possible to reach people instantly across the world, but it has also created distance with those closest to us. The challenge today is not whether we can connect, but whether those connections are authentic, meaningful, and human. Preserving authentic human connection starts with intention. Technology should be a tool that supports relationships, not replaces them. For example, texting can help us stay in touch, but they should not replace real conversations where tone, emotion, and presence matter. Social media can help us share our lives, but it should not become a substitute for actually living them together. When we are intentional about when and how we use technology, we create space for deeper, more meaningful interactions. Strengthening human connection also requires empathy. One of the most important lessons I have learned as a student-athlete is that people are carrying more than what is visible. On the basketball court, you quickly realize that a teammate’s missed shot or frustration is often connected to something deeper; stress, pressure, or personal struggle. The same is true in everyday life. Strengthening connection means taking the time to understand people beyond their surface behaviors and choosing patience over judgment. My own experiences have also shown me that connection grows through shared effort. Whether I am volunteering with Lunches of Love or working concessions at a local junior high school, I see how simple acts of service bring people together. Packing meals, serving families, or helping at school events may seem small, but they create moments where people feel seen and supported. In those spaces, connection is not digital, it is real, physical, and rooted in care. Reimagining human connection in the digital age means finding ways to blend technology with humanity instead of separating them. Technology can actually enhance connection when used thoughtfully. It can help organize community service, support learning, and connect people who might otherwise never meet. Even then, the goal should always be to move from online interaction to real-world understanding. A message should lead to a conversation. A connection online should encourage connection in person. As an African American male student who values both academics and athletics, I have also learned how important it is to feel seen and understood in spaces where people may not always look like you or share your background. Connection becomes even more powerful when it crosses differences and builds bridges. It is in those moments when people choose to listen, learn, and understand that communities grow stronger. Ultimately, preserving authentic human connection in a technological world is about balance. It is about using technology without letting it use us. It is about remembering that behind every screen is a real person with experiences, emotions, and stories that matter. It is about choosing every day to engage with others in ways that are thoughtful, present, and human. No matter how advanced technology becomes, the most meaningful part of life will always be the connections we build with each other. Thank you for your consideration.

The first time I understood what it meant to serve others, I was not trying to make a difference, I was simply trying to help. I remember volunteering with Lunches of Love, carefully packing meals alongside other volunteers. At first, it felt like a small task: filling containers, organizing bags, and staying focused on the assembly line, but then I realized something important. Each meal represented a child, a family, and a moment where someone would not go hungry because of what we were doing in that room. That experience changed the way I see impact. I am an African American male student-athlete who has learned that true success is not just about what you accomplish for yourself, but what you contribute to others. I currently hold a 4.6842 GPA and ranked 3rd my graduating class of 669 students. While I am proud of my academic achievements and athletic discipline, I have come to understand that my greatest purpose is not personal recognition, it is service. Service has been a consistent part of my life. Through Lunches of Love, I have learned that even small, repetitive acts of kindness can create meaningful change when done with consistency and care. I have also worked concessions at a local junior high school, where I served students, families, and staff during school events. Although the role may seem simple, it taught me responsibility, teamwork, and the importance of showing up for others in dependable ways. These experiences helped me realize that service does not always require a title, it requires willingness. I plan to make a positive impact on the world through chemical engineering. I am drawn to this field because it has the potential to improve lives on a large scale; whether through cleaner energy, safer water systems, medical advancements, or sustainable materials. My goal is to use my education not only to understand how systems work, but to help design solutions that directly serve communities in need. My approach to engineering will always be rooted in service. I want to be the kind of engineer who asks, “Who does this help?” and “How does this improve people’s lives?” I believe the most meaningful innovations are the ones that reach beyond efficiency and profit to address real human needs. My experiences volunteering have taught me to think with empathy first, and I plan to carry that mindset into every problem I try to solve. My academic success comes from discipline and consistency, but also from understanding that learning is preparation for contribution. Every concept I master in science or math is another tool I can use to serve others more effectively in the future. Being a student-athlete has also shaped my understanding of teamwork and sacrifice. On the basketball court, no success is individual, and the same is true in life. Whether I am supporting teammates or supporting my community, I have learned that impact comes from doing your role with full effort and humility. Ultimately, my goal is to live a life defined by service. I want to use chemical engineering not just as a career, but as a way to improve living conditions, expand access to resources, and help solve problems that affect everyday people. I want my work to reflect the same lesson I learned while packing meals at Lunches of Love. Even the smallest act, when multiplied by purpose and consistency, can change lives. Thank you for your consideration.

The first time I saw what engineering really looked like, it wasn’t on the internet. It was in motion, steel beams rising, workers coordinating like a living system, and the sound of tools hitting wood and metal in a steady rhythm that felt like progress. I remember standing there longer than I needed to, watching how every piece had a purpose. Nothing was random. Everything had to fit. Even in that moment of inspiration, I noticed something else: almost everyone I saw didn’t look like me. As an African American male, that absence stood out in a way I couldn’t ignore. That realization stayed with me. Diversity in STEM is important because innovation is shaped by perspective. If everyone in a room shares the same background, experiences, and assumptions, then the solutions they create will also be limited. The world is far too complex for only one type of voice to shape its future. For me, this idea became personal early on. I am a 5’6 African American male student-athlete with a strong academic record. I currently hold a 4.6842 GPA and ranked 3rd out of 669 in my graduating class. I plan to pursue chemical engineering in college because I am drawn to solving complex problems and understanding how systems work to improve everyday life. To some people, being both a high-achieving student and a basketball player does not “fit” a single identity but I have learned that this balance is exactly what makes me adaptable and driven. In STEM fields, that same idea applies. Students bring different lived experiences, and those experiences shape how they see problems and solutions. A student from an underrepresented community may recognize challenges others overlook. A first-generation college student may bring a level of determination shaped by their path. A diverse team does not weaken STEM, it strengthens it. Representation matters because it changes what young people believe is possible. When students see engineers, scientists, and innovators who look like them, it expands their sense of belonging. Without that visibility, too many talented students quietly decide STEM is not for them before they never get a chance to try. I have experienced similar assumptions in athletics. At 5’6, people often underestimate my ability on the basketball court before I even step on the floor. I’ve learned that the goal is not just to prove people wrong, it is to change what they expect from the start. That same principle applies in STEM. Representation helps rewrite expectations before limitations are even placed. Another reason diversity matters is because STEM is about solving real-world problems that affect real people. Healthcare, energy, infrastructure, and technology all impact communities differently. If only one group is involved in creating solutions, then some perspectives will always be missing, and those gaps can lead to incomplete answers. When more voices are included, innovation becomes stronger. New questions are asked. Different approaches are considered. Solutions become more creative and more effective because they reflect the world they are meant to serve. Ultimately, STEM is not just about equations or machines, it is about people. People are diverse in every way imaginable. The more STEM reflects that reality, the more powerful and relevant it becomes. That is why representation matters. It ensures that the next generation of innovators does not walk into a lab or engineering classroom and wonder if they belong, but instead sees themselves reflected in the work and believes they are exactly where they are meant to be. Thank you for your consideration in helping me pursue a degree in chemical engineering.

The gym was almost empty, except for the squeak of my shoes and the steady echo of the ball hitting the hardwood. I remember standing at the three-point line, looking up at the rim that felt just a little too high for someone my size. At 5’6, I was used to it. What I wasn’t always used to was what people said about me before I even touched the ball. “He’s smart, but he’s not really a basketball player.” “That nerd probably spends more time in books than in the gym.” “You’re good for a short kid, but you won’t go far in this game.” Those words followed me for years. I was known for my academics, high grades, strong study habits, and a reputation as someone who took school seriously. Instead of that being celebrated alongside my athletic ability, it often became a label used to question whether I belonged on the court. What made it harder was that I loved basketball deeply. I wasn’t just playing to pass time, I played because it taught me discipline, resilience, and how to respond when things didn’t go my way. Still, there were moments when the doubt from others started to feel like doubt in myself. I wondered if I would always be seen as “the small, smart kid” instead of just a basketball player. The turning point came when I realized I couldn’t control how people labeled me, but I could control how I responded. I started treating every doubt like fuel. If someone said I was too small, I trained to be quicker and more efficient than anyone guarding me. If someone called me a “nerd,” I made sure they saw the work ethic behind that label; hours in the gym, early mornings, late nights, and constant repetition of fundamentals. I also stopped separating my identity as a student and an athlete. For a long time, I felt like I had to choose between being “smart” or being “athletic.” I realized my discipline in the classroom was the same discipline that made me better on the court. My ability to think through problems helped me read defenses. My focus in school helped me stay calm under pressure. Over time, I learned to embrace being different. Instead of trying to fit someone else’s definition of an athlete, I focused on becoming the best version of myself. I worked on speed, shooting, and decision making. I learned how to use my size as an advantage; staying low, moving quickly, and thinking a step ahead of bigger opponents. Most importantly, I learned confidence. Not loud confidence, but the kind that comes from preparation. I didn’t need to be the tallest or the most stereotypical player on the court. I just needed to be ready every time my name was called. This adversity shaped me into someone who doesn’t back down from labels or expectations. It taught me that people will always have opinions about who you are supposed to be, but those opinions don’t define your limits. They only define their perspective. If I could give advice to someone facing the same situation, I would tell them not to shrink themselves to fit expectations. Let doubt become motivation, not discouragement. Stay consistent, stay disciplined, and let your work speak for you. Eventually, performance will silence assumptions. Today, when I step on the court as a varsity player, I no longer see myself as the 5’6 player people underestimated or the “nerd” they misjudged. I see someone who earned respect through effort, resilience, and belief in himself.

The sound of metal hitting wood has always meant something in my family. I never met my great-grandfather, but I know him through stories, through my late grandfather’s voice, through family memories, and through the way North Carolina A&T is spoken about in my home like it is part of who we are. I imagine him on that campus, teaching construction, surrounded by the steady rhythm of tools hitting wood, the kind of sound that signals work, patience, and something being built piece by piece. That image has always stayed with me, even though I only know him through what others have shared. That idea, building something that lasts feels like it has been passed down to me. My journey to this point has always felt like I am building my own foundation, step by step. I am a varsity athlete in three sports; basketball, cross country, and track and each one has shaped how I approach life. Basketball taught me how to stay composed in fast moments, how to trust others, and how to compete under pressure. Cross country taught me endurance, how to keep moving forward even when everything in me wants to slow down. Track taught me precision and discipline, where every second and every detail matters. Together, these sports have shaped my mindset: show up consistently, work through discomfort, and keep improving even when progress feels slow. Academically, I have also pushed myself, earning a 4.6842 GPA and ranking #3 out of 669 in my class. You know what has shaped me just as much is my family’s legacy… North Carolina A&T. NC A&T is not just a school in my family, it is part of our identity. My father, my paternal grandfather, and my paternal great-grandfather all attended NC A&T. Growing up, I heard stories about the campus not as a distant place, but as a continuation of our family’s path. My great-grandfather also taught construction there, and I often think about what that must have meant helping students learn how to build with their hands while also building something larger in their lives. That connection makes NC A&T feel less like a future goal and more like something I am already connected to, something I am meant to continue. My mother also helped shape how I see education and opportunity. She is a graduate of Fisk University and earned her master’s degree from Tennessee State University. From her, I learned that HBCUs are more than schools, they are environments where students are seen, supported, and challenged to become their best selves. She speaks about her experience with pride, and through her I understand that being surrounded by people who share your history and push you forward can be life changing. Getting to this point has taken discipline and consistency. Balancing academics with three varsity sports is not easy, but it has taught me how to manage my time and stay focused even when I am tired. There are nights when practice runs late and schoolwork still waits for me, but I’ve learned that discipline is not about convenience, it is about commitment. That lesson has shaped how I approach everything I do. Attending an HBCU means continuing a legacy that started long before me, but also building my own place within it. North Carolina A&T represents excellence, tradition, and opportunity, but also responsibility. The responsibility to take what I learn and use it to make an impact beyond myself. I want to be in an environment where I am challenged to grow while also being part of a community that understands where I come from. I also understand that my journey is not just about personal success. It is about what I do with what I have been given. Through my education, I plan to pursue a path that allows me to give back to my community in a meaningful way, whether through engineering, leadership, or another field where I can create opportunity for others. I want to be someone who opens doors for others the way doors have been opened for me. In my family, education is not new, it is expected, valued, and shared. My father’s experience at NC A&T, along with my grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s, reminds me that I am part of something ongoing. My mother’s HBCU journey reinforces that same message from another side of my family. I am a varsity athlete in basketball, cross country, and track, but I am also someone learning how to carry forward a legacy of discipline, education, and service. When I think about that sound, the steady rhythm of tools hitting wood I understand it more clearly now. It is not just a memory or a story. It is a reminder that I am part of something still being built, something passed down through generations and still not finished. I am still building it too. Scholarship support like this matters deeply because it helps ease the financial burden of attending college and allows me to focus more fully on academics and leadership opportunities without adding unnecessary financial strain to my family. This assistance would directly help offset the high cost of higher education and bring me one step closer to continuing my family’s legacy at North Carolina A&T where I plan to pursue a degree in chemical engineering.

The morning light came through the kitchen window while my mom sat across from me, telling me a story I had heard before, but never really thought much about. She explained that when I was born, doctors noticed a heart murmur and decided to monitor it closely. I don’t remember any of it myself, but the way she told it made it feel important, like something quietly connected to the start of my life. At the time, it just sounded like background information about when I was a baby. That changed about two years ago. I remember hearing the words “enlarged heart” and not fully understanding them at first, but knowing they carried weight. It made that old story from my mom feel different, less like history and more like something that was still relevant to me. Around that same time, my grandfather, who I had known and loved, passed away from heart disease. Losing him after already learning about my own heart situation made everything hit harder. It wasn’t abstract anymore. It was real, personal, and something I couldn’t ignore. My other grandfather had passed away before I was even born, also from heart disease, which made the pattern even more difficult to think about. Looking back, that awareness has become the greatest driving force in my life. It’s not fear, it’s perspective. It’s the understanding that health, time, and opportunity are not things to take lightly. That mindset has shaped the way I approach everything, especially school. I’ve pushed myself to stay focused and disciplined, earning a 4.6842 GPA and ranking #3 out of 669 students in my class. I don’t work hard just for achievement, I work hard because I’ve learned to value what I’ve been given and what I want to build for my future. This perspective has also influenced how I think about my goals beyond high school. I’ve become interested in STEM, especially chemical engineering, because it’s a field centered around solving real-world problems that affect people’s lives. When I connect that to my family’s history with heart disease and my own health experiences, it pushes me to want to be part of something meaningful; something that can improve health outcomes and help people live longer, better lives. Even though I’m still figuring out my exact path within engineering, I know I want my future to involve work that connects to health, innovation, and real impact. At the same time, I don’t see my health history as something that defines limits for me. Instead, it has become something that sharpens my focus. It reminds me to stay disciplined, appreciate every opportunity, and keep moving forward no matter what challenges come up. Overall, the greatest driving force in my life is the awareness I carry with me every day. It started as a story I was told, became something I had to understand more deeply, and has grown into the mindset that shapes how I work, what I value, and who I want to become. Thank you for your consideration.

The late afternoon sun was still hanging over the backyard when I noticed my dad and grandfather building a shed from scratch. The sound of a hammer hitting wood echoed across the yard as they worked slowly and carefully, not rushing anything. They measured, stopped, checked again, and adjusted when something didn’t line up. At one point, something was off, and instead of getting frustrated, they stepped back, talked it through, and figured out a better way. My dad noticed me watching and started explaining what they were doing, breaking it down so I could understand. I was 10 years old. In that moment, I realized it wasn’t just about building a shed, it was about solving problems step by step until something real was created. That moment stuck with me and shaped how I see challenges today. Whether it’s climate change, new diseases, or improving myself in school, basketball, or track I want to be someone who helps create solutions instead of just talking about them. That mindset is a big part of why I’ve worked hard in school, earning a 4.6842 GPA and ranking #3 out of 669 students in my class. My work ethic has pushed me to take challenging courses, stay disciplined, and keep improving, which is also what led me to seriously consider pursuing a career in a STEM field, specifically chemical engineering. I didn’t choose chemical engineering right away. It actually took time for me to figure out what I wanted to do and where my strengths could make the biggest impact. Growing up, I was always around engineering because both my father and late grandfather were engineers. Seeing how they approached problems and created solutions made an impression on me, but I still wanted to find my own path. Over time, I realized that chemical engineering combines my interests in math, science, and real-world problem-solving, making it the right fit for me. What really excites me about chemical engineering is the chance to take on problems that actually matter. Climate change and pollution aren’t just topics we read about, they’re affecting people’s lives right now. I want to be part of the group of people working on real solutions, like developing cleaner energy or finding ways to reduce waste and emissions. The idea that something I help create could improve the environment and people’s lives is very motivating to me. I also feel strongly about healthcare and the role STEM plays in improving lives. Chemical engineering contributes to developing medicines and treatments, and being part of that kind of work would mean I could help people in a real and meaningful way. Even though I’m passionate about both climate impact and healthcare, I also know I’m still early in the process of figuring everything out. I’m confident that once I get into my college coursework and start exploring different areas of chemical engineering, I’ll discover where I fit best and what specific path I want to pursue within the field. Another reason I care about this path is representation. As an African American male, I know how important it is for younger students to see people like them in STEM careers. I want to be an example that shows they can succeed too. Overall, pursuing a career in STEM would allow me to use my strengths, work ethic, and passion to solve real problems and make a difference in people’s lives. Thank you for your consideration.

The first time I walked into cross country practice, I remember staring at the older runners stretching across the field and wondering if I had made a mistake. The Texas heat felt unbearable, my legs were already sore from summer basketball workouts, and I wasn’t even sure I could keep up. But I had set a goal for myself, I didn’t just want to join another sport, I wanted to prove to myself that I could compete at the varsity level in something that didn’t come naturally to me. Running long distance was different from anything I had done before. In basketball, there are quick bursts of energy and constant movement. In cross country, it’s just you, your breathing, and the voice in your head telling you to slow down. My first few meets were humbling. I finished near the back of the pack, lungs burning, questioning why I signed up. But quitting wasn’t an option. I decided that if I was going to do this, I would commit fully. I started waking up earlier to run on my own before school. I focused on building endurance and adding mileage gradually and tracking my pace. I watched videos about running form and learned how small adjustments in stride and posture could make a difference over three miles. I changed how I ate and made sure I was hydrating consistently throughout the day. Most importantly, I trained my mindset. Instead of thinking, “I can’t keep this pace,” I told myself, “Stay with the runner in front of you. Just one more minute. Just one more turn.” Balancing cross country with varsity basketball, track, National Honor Society, National Science Honor Society, Mu Alpha Theta, and my academic workload wasn’t easy. Maintaining a 4.6842 GPA while being ranked 3rd in a class of 669 requires discipline. There were nights when I studied for AP courses after practice with ice packs on my knees. There were weekends when I wanted to relax but chose to review math concepts or outline essays instead. I learned that excellence isn’t about motivation, it’s about consistency. By the end of the season, I wasn’t finishing in the back anymore. I had earned a varsity spot and cut significant time off my personal record. More than that, I developed mental toughness that carried over into every other area of my life. When I retook the SAT after earning a 1320 the first time, I approached it the same way I approached running: identify weaknesses, train intentionally, and push through discomfort. Instead of being discouraged by my reading score, I practiced daily, reviewed mistakes carefully, and treated preparation like conditioning for a race. Reaching that varsity goal showed me that growth happens when you choose discomfort over convenience. It also helped clarify what I’m working toward next. Academically, I’m pushing to strengthen my SAT score and continue challenging myself in STEM courses as I prepare to major in chemical engineering. Athletically, I want to continue competing at a high level while becoming a stronger leader on my teams. I want to be someone younger athletes can look up to the way I once looked at the upperclassmen on that first day of practice. Crossing the finish line at my final meet of the season, exhausted but proud, I realized something important: the real goal was never just the time on the clock. It was becoming the kind of person who refuses to stop when things get hard. That’s the mindset I’m carrying with me into whatever finish line comes next.

Math has always been one of my favorite subjects because it makes sense to me. I like that math has clear steps and clear answers. When I work through a problem, I know that if I stay focused and follow the process, I will get to the right solution. That feeling motivates me to keep challenging myself. I enjoy math because it makes me think. Some problems are not easy at first, but I like the challenge of figuring them out. When I finally understand a tough problem, it feels rewarding. Math has taught me to be patient and not give up when something is difficult. If I make a mistake, I can go back, fix it, and try again. Math has also helped me become a better problem solver. It has taught me how to break problems into smaller parts and think logically. These skills help me in other classes and in everyday life. I also see math in things I enjoy, like basketball. Whether it’s understanding angles, timing, or statistics, math plays a role in the game. Doing well in math has pushed me to take harder classes and set higher goals for myself. It has helped build my confidence and work ethic. I know that success in math comes from effort, practice, and focus, and those habits have helped me academically. I love math because it challenges me and helps me grow. It has taught me discipline, patience, and confidence. Math is more than just numbers to me. It’s a subject that prepares me to handle challenges both in school and in life.

The family member I lost who shaped me the most was my grandfather, who I called G Daddy. He retired from BP as a mechanical engineer right before I was born, but growing up, I felt like I knew his career well because of the stories he shared. He had traveled all over the world for work and for fun, and listening to him talk about those experiences made me curious about how things worked and how science could open doors far beyond where you start. Even though I never saw him go to work, G Daddy had a way of making engineering feel real. He loved explaining how systems fit together and why details mattered. He would break things down in a way that made sense and made learning feel interesting instead of overwhelming. Those conversations were the reason I started to enjoy science and think seriously about becoming an engineer myself. When G Daddy passed away, it was one of the hardest things I’ve gone through. He was always present in my life, whether it was sitting in the stands at my basketball games or asking about my grades and goals. Losing him left a big gap, and it forced me to grow up faster than I expected. I realized that the encouragement and expectations he had for me were now my responsibility to carry forward. After his death, I became more focused, especially in school. I pushed myself more in my science classes and started thinking clearly about my future. What began as curiosity turned into a real goal; I want to become a chemical engineer. I see engineering as a way to solve problems and make a difference, just like G Daddy did throughout his career, even if I learned about it through stories instead of watching it firsthand. Basketball also played a big role in helping me deal with the loss. It taught me discipline, teamwork, and resilience. On hard days, whether in the classroom or at practice, I remind myself that G Daddy believed in showing up and doing the work, even when things weren’t easy. One of the most important lessons G Daddy taught me was about giving back. He believed in helping others without needing recognition. Because of him, I volunteer regularly, serving meals and supporting families in my community. Service has helped me understand that success isn’t just about personal achievement, but about using your abilities to help others. Even though G Daddy is no longer here, his influence is still a big part of my life. The stories he shared, the lessons he taught, and the example he set continue to guide my choices. Losing him was painful, but it gave me purpose and direction, and it helped shape the person I am becoming.

Engineers, engineers, engineers. I have been surrounded by engineers my whole life. At first, I was resistant to wanting to pursue a career as an engineer and then I took honors chemistry and it changed the focus and the trajectory for my future. This school year I took AP chemistry to expand my knowledge in this area. I enjoyed learning about chemical properties and foreseeing the impact I could make in the efficiency of industry processes. You see, my vision for the future is one where I want to be known for impacting industries in ways where more efficient and cleaner solutions allow us all to utilize the natural resources we have in more productive and safe ways. I currently live in Texas and my family has benefited from the oil and gas industry for decades. The impact I want to make as a chemical engineer is to bridge our natural resources with safer processes so that the oil and gas industries can continue to thrive but we can all live in a healthier and safer world. My parents have made many sacrifices to ensure I was successful and have a head start in life. One core value I have is being able to pay in forward for my future family and for the next generation. Ensuring a cleaner planet is important to me. How do I plan to accomplish this, you ask? The answer is actually quite simple..work hard, learn from those currently in the field, and consider analytical solutions that make sense and are doable. My personality and who I am naturally makes me a leader. Watching my parents, I have learned that the best leaders are those that learn and truly have a desire to understand how systems work before guiding people. I have been told several times that my soft skills are equally as effective as my hard skills. It’s not about if I find solutions for cleaner manufacturing in the petroleum industry but rather when I do, I am confident that I will be able to lead others to acceptance of those solutions. Mixing solutions and warming wax as a child were “fun” activities. Being able to take what I considered fun, adding guided study of the field, and taking that knowledge and experience to the petroleum industry to make it safer is a dream of mine. My late grandfather worked as a mechanical engineer and after retirement he worked in the wind energy sector. I recall my father asking him questions about the different sectors and realizing that his expertise, experience, and drive to continue learning were able to bring both sectors together in productive ways. My ultimate goal in life is to follow in the wisdom, analytical thinking, and impact that my grandfather made in the petroleum industry. Although I did not have the privilege of knowing Tebra Hobson, please know that I have the upmost respect and admiration for teachers. You see, my mother is an assistant principal. She was an AP in an elementary school and now in a junior high school. She taught me to value the profession and all the hard work that teachers give every day. Thank you for your time and consideration. If chosen for this scholarship, I guarantee you will see my name in a publication that highlights my work and ability to merge natural resources with clean processes. Thank you.

Ugh, you’re too distracted and you’re too small. These are words I have heard more times than I can count. First in the classroom, then on the basketball court. Living with ADHD and standing at just 5’6 in a sport dominated by taller athletes, I’ve often been underestimated. Instead of letting those labels define me, I have used them as fuel. They have pushed me to prove that focus can be trained, that size does not equal strength, and that perseverance can outshine doubt. In elementary school, my ADHD didn’t affect my ability to learn or complete assignments and I always liked school and excelled in academics. The real challenge was behavioral. I was impulsive, restless, and often the student teachers had to redirect. That was especially difficult because my mother is an assistant principal. While other kids could go home and leave their school behavior behind, mine followed me. I knew that every call, every report, and every meeting with teachers made her job harder. At times, I felt embarrassed that my actions reflected on her. More than anything, I didn’t want to disappoint her. Over time, I learned to manage my impulses, focus my energy in positive ways, and prove through my actions that I could rise above the challenges of ADHD. That growth has carried me into middle and high school, where I now hold a 4.625 GPA and rank #3 in my class of 708 students. Basketball has been another arena where I’ve had to prove myself. At 5’6, I don’t fit the image of a dominant player. Opponents often underestimate me before the game even begins but that doubt only motivates me. I’ve worked hard to sharpen my speed, ball handling, and court vision so that my impact isn’t measured by height but by heart, court IQ, and skill. Playing school ball and AAU basketball has taught me to maximize my strengths, out hustle taller players, and never let size determine my worth. Every game is another chance to show that effort and perseverance matter more than appearance. Both in school and on the court, the common thread has been the need to prove myself. With ADHD, I had to prove to teachers and to myself that I was more than my impulsive behavior. On the court, I have to prove to coaches and competitors that size doesn’t dictate skill. Through those experiences, I’ve built resilience, discipline, and confidence. Looking ahead, I know college will bring its own set of challenges. The workload will be heavier, the competition tougher, and the expectations higher. But I feel prepared. My experiences with ADHD and basketball have taught me that the obstacles in front of me don’t define me but my response to them does. I no longer see my ADHD or my height as disadvantages. Instead, I see them as the reasons I’ve learned to fight harder, push further, and stay focused on my goals. They’ve shaped my desire to pursue chemical engineering, a field that challenges problem solvers to think critically and find solutions that impact everyday life. Just as I’ve learned to turn my own challenges into opportunities, I want to use my education to design, innovate, and contribute to creating a better future. Adversity has made me stronger, more determined, and more focused on what lies ahead. I am ready to carry those lessons into college, into chemical engineering, and into every challenge that comes next in my life.

Service has shaped how I respond to challenge and how I measure success. I have learned that meaningful change is created not by avoiding difficult circumstances, but by choosing how to act within them. Through consistent service, leadership, and mentorship, I strive to positively impact my community and leave every environment better than I found it. One of the most meaningful ways I serve is through my volunteer work with Lunches of Love. Working directly with families experiencing food uncertainty has shown me how hardship can affect everyday life. While I cannot eliminate those challenges, I can contribute in ways that provide immediate support and dignity. Helping prepare and distribute meals has taught me that service is about showing up with compassion and consistency. The impact of this work extends beyond the meals themselves, it strengthens community connections and reminds families that they are seen and supported. I also serve my community by babysitting younger children for a family who relies on dependable care. This responsibility has taught me accountability, patience, and the importance of being reliable. Parents trust me with what matters most to them, and that trust reinforces my belief that meaningful service is often quiet and steady. By providing consistent support, I help create stability for families navigating busy and demanding schedules. Basketball has given me another platform to serve and lead. As a varsity, JV, and AAU basketball player, I have learned discipline, teamwork, and perseverance. These are lessons that extend far beyond athletics. Sports often place young people under pressure, and how they respond can shape their confidence and character. Moving forward, I plan to volunteer as a middle school basketball co-coach as a hobby alongside my other service commitments. Through coaching, I hope to mentor younger students, encourage positive decision-making, and create an environment where growth and effort are valued. The James Lynn Baker II Scholarship emphasizes a powerful idea: when faced with adversity, individuals can choose to let circumstances define them or to transform the environment around them. This message resonates with how I approach service and leadership. Rather than becoming discouraged by challenges, I strive to contribute positively wherever I am placed.Whether it’s academically, athletically, and in my community. This mindset is reflected in my academic commitment as well. I am currently ranked 3rd out of 708 students with a GPA of 4.625. Balancing rigorous coursework, athletics, and service has required discipline and perseverance, but it has also taught me that achievement carries responsibility. I believe my abilities should be used to serve others and create opportunity. Looking ahead, I plan to pursue a degree in chemical engineering to expand my ability to create change. Through this field, I hope to develop solutions related to sustainability, energy efficiency, and access to essential resources. By combining technical knowledge with a service-oriented mindset, I want to continue making a meaningful impact on communities facing complex challenges. The values honored by the James Lynn Baker II Scholarship align with how I live my life: choosing growth, service, and positive influence in every environment. No matter the challenge, I am committed to contributing in ways that create lasting change and uplift others.

Change doesn’t happen all at once; it usually starts the moment you realize that who you are today isn’t yet who you will become. That moment happened for me during a late evening study session after a long basketball practice, when I looked at everything I was trying to balance and asked myself whether I was doing enough to become the kind of person who makes a real impact. I knew then that I didn’t just want to work hard. I wanted to grow with more meaning. I want to make a change in my life because I know I’m capable of more than just going through the motions. When I was younger, I struggled with behavioral challenges connected to my ADHD, especially in elementary school. I was restless, talkative, easily distracted, and always on the move. I remember getting reminders to stay seated or stay focused more times than I can count. Those experiences taught me early on that controlling my energy and learning how to channel it the right way would be one of my biggest responsibilities as I grew up. Over time, I learned to turn that same energy into drive. Over the past few years, I’ve learned that talent and potential only take you so far. What truly matters is discipline, service, and using your gifts to influence the people around you. As I’ve grown, I’ve realized that I want my life to be about more than grades or basketball. I want it to be about leadership and character. One of the biggest changes I am working toward is becoming the best version of myself academically, athletically, and personally. In school, I’ve challenged myself by staying committed to my coursework and earning a 4.625 GPA while ranking #3 in my class. I push myself to improve every day, whether that’s showing up to early morning basketball workouts, studying late, or volunteering. Even though my volunteer roles are simple like working concessions or volunteering at Lunches of Love they’ve shown me how small acts can positively impact the community around me. Through these experiences, I’ve learned what responsibility really looks like and how important it is to stay consistent even when it’s hard. I’ve also realized how much I value being someone others can depend on. Leadership isn’t always about being the loudest voice; it’s about patience, commitment, and doing what’s right even when no one is watching. This scholarship would help me continue that growth. It would relieve some of the financial pressure from my family and allow me to focus on preparing for college academically and mentally. It would also open doors for opportunities and resources I might not otherwise have access to. Most importantly, receiving this scholarship would remind me that people believe in me and support the goals I’m working toward. Paying it forward is something I already take seriously. I know how much it has meant to have mentors, coaches, teachers, and community members invest in me, especially during the years when learning how to manage my ADHD behavior took patience and guidance. I want to do the same for someone coming up behind me. In the future, I plan to tutor younger students who struggle academically, mentor younger athletes, and continue volunteering in my community. I want to show kids who look like me that success is possible when you work hard, stay committed, and surround yourself with people who believe in your potential. If I am blessed with this scholarship, I intend to pass that blessing long to others through my service. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Ugh, you’re too distracted and you’re too small. These are words I have heard more times than I can count. First in the classroom, then on the basketball court. Living with ADHD and standing at just 5’6 in a sport dominated by taller athletes, I’ve often been underestimated. Instead of letting those labels define me, I have used them as fuel. They have pushed me to prove that focus can be trained, that size does not equal strength, and that perseverance can outshine doubt. In elementary school, my ADHD didn’t affect my ability to learn or complete assignments and I always liked school and excelled in academics. The real challenge was behavioral. I was impulsive, restless, and often the student teachers had to redirect. That was especially difficult because my mother is an assistant principal. While other kids could go home and leave their school behavior behind, mine followed me. I knew that every call, every report, and every meeting with teachers made her job harder. At times, I felt embarrassed that my actions reflected on her. More than anything, I didn’t want to disappoint her. Over time, I learned to manage my impulses, focus my energy in positive ways, and prove through my actions that I could rise above the challenges of ADHD. That growth has carried me into middle and high school, where I now hold a 4.625 GPA and rank #4 in my class of nearly 800 students. Basketball has been another arena where I’ve had to prove myself. At 5’6, I don’t fit the image of a dominant player. Opponents often underestimate me before the game even begins but that doubt only motivates me. I’ve worked hard to sharpen my speed, ball handling, and court vision so that my impact isn’t measured by height but by heart, court IQ, and skill. Playing school ball and AAU basketball has taught me to maximize my strengths, out hustle taller players, and never let size determine my worth. Every game is another chance to show that effort and perseverance matter more than appearance. Both in school and on the court, the common thread has been the need to prove myself. With ADHD, I had to prove to teachers and to myself that I was more than my impulsive behavior. On the court, I have to prove to coaches and competitors that size doesn’t dictate skill. Through those experiences, I’ve built resilience, discipline, and confidence. Looking ahead, I know college will bring its own set of challenges. The workload will be heavier, the competition tougher, and the expectations higher. But I feel prepared. My experiences with ADHD and basketball have taught me that the obstacles in front of me don’t define me but my response to them does. I no longer see my ADHD or my height as disadvantages. Instead, I see them as the reasons I’ve learned to fight harder, push further, and stay focused on my goals. They’ve shaped my desire to pursue chemical engineering, a field that challenges problem solvers to think critically and find solutions that impact everyday life. Just as I’ve learned to turn my own challenges into opportunities, I want to use my education to design, innovate, and contribute to creating a better future. Adversity has made me stronger, more determined, and more focused on what lies ahead. I am ready to carry those lessons into college, into chemical engineering, and into every challenge that comes next in my life.

My name is Carson Dawkins, and I am a 15 year old high school student, set to graduate in 2027. I currently have a 4.6250 GPA and plan to pursue a degree in chemical engineering. My academic journey has not been easy, but every challenge has shaped me into the focused, driven student I am today. One of the biggest challenges I’ve had to overcome is my ADHD. I was diagnosed with ADHD in elementary school. For years, I struggled with focus, organization, and impulsivity. I often felt frustrated. School felt overwhelming at times, and I sometimes wondered if I’d ever be “good enough” to compete with other students. With the support of my parents, teachers, and a lot of hard work, I’ve learned how to manage my ADHD and turn it into a strength rather than a setback. Over the years, I’ve developed systems to stay organized, learned how to break big tasks into smaller ones, and built strong time management habits. I’ve learned that having ADHD doesn’t mean I can’t succeed, it just means I have to work a little differently, and sometimes a little harder. That perseverance has fueled my academic achievements and given me the confidence to pursue my goals. One of my greatest passions is science, especially chemistry and engineering. I love understanding how materials interact, how energy is transferred, and how innovations are developed to solve real-world problems. I am especially interested in clean energy and sustainability. I hope to one day work on projects that reduce carbon emissions, develop renewable energy sources, or improve water purification systems in underserved areas. Becoming a chemical engineer would allow me to take my love for science and use it to make a real difference in people’s lives and the health of our planet. This scholarship would help me move closer to that dream. It would ease the financial strain on my family and allow me to focus on my academics, leadership development, and college preparation. I plan to participate in engineering summer programs, AP courses, and internships that will strengthen my foundation and prepare me for a competitive university. Without financial support, many of these opportunities may be out of reach. I am not afraid of hard work. In fact, overcoming ADHD has taught me how to keep pushing forward even when things get tough. I’ve learned that focus and a positive attitude can open doors that once seemed closed. With this scholarship, I hope to continue opening those doors; not just for myself, but for others as well. Thank you for considering my application. Your investment in me would not only support a student with big dreams, but one who knows how to work through challenges and rise above them. I am excited for what lies ahead and grateful for the opportunity to take one step closer to becoming the chemical engineer I’ve always dreamed of becoming.

My name is Carson Dawkins, and I am pursuing a college education because I believe it is the key to unlocking my full potential, building a meaningful career, and living a life of independence and purpose. My goal is to study chemical engineering because I have always been curious about how things work and how to solve real-world problems. Whether it’s designing more efficient systems, creating mixtures, or developing solutions to everyday challenges, I want to use my education to make a positive impact in the world. My journey through education has not been easy. I was diagnosed with ADHD in elementary school, and for years I struggled with focus, self-control, and organization. These challenges made it difficult for me to sit still, follow directions, and stay on task in the classroom. I often felt frustrated with myself, wondering why things that seemed simple for others were so hard for me. There were moments when I doubted whether I could succeed in life at all. Thankfully, I was not alone in this journey. My parents, teachers, and school counselors worked closely with me, teaching me strategies to manage my behavior and focus my energy in positive ways. With their help, I learned to break tasks into smaller steps, use planners and reminders, and develop habits that kept me organized and on track. These lessons were not learned overnight, but over time they made a huge difference. By the time I reached junior high and high school, I was not only catching up but I was excelling. Today, I am ranked fourth in my graduating class, a result of years of hard work, growth, and perseverance. My ADHD, once a source of frustration, has become a part of my story; a reminder that determination and support can overcome even the toughest obstacles. To me, independence means being able to manage my own responsibilities, make wise decisions, and contribute to society in a meaningful way. Education is the foundation of that independence. It will allow me to pursue a career that challenges me, provides for my future, and gives me the freedom to live life on my own terms. My struggles with ADHD have taught me how to problem-solve, adapt, and stay determined. These skills will serve me not only in school but in life as an independent adult. I am committed to continuing this journey, building on what I’ve overcome, and using my education to create a bright and self-sufficient future.

Where is the hope? This is a question I asked myself on numerous occasions this school year. My grandfather recently passed away, my AP classes were taking a toll on my wellbeing, and to top it all off I was not doing well in basketball. The truth is I was losing the passion for things I once enjoyed. Using a term from my generation, I was “crashing out.” I recognized it, didn’t think I needed professional support, but wasn’t quite sure how I was going to get out of this rut I was feeling. You see, for me mental and physical health go hand in hand. When my family and teachers noticed a difference in my demeanor it was a wake up call that I could not remain in this state for long. My mental health was ultimately going to affect the two things I take the most pride in- my academics and basketball. Mental health for men in general is taboo, but it is especially taboo in the African American community. As a high achieving teenage boy, I am expected to maintain my grades and athleticism at all costs. It wasn’t until this year did I realize the costs of that could be too great until it is too late. Maintaining my potential is a weight I carry often and I am glad that this year has taught me that even when the lows are low they are temporary. Just because I am feeling down doesn’t mean that I need to spiral. During this time of discomfort my physical health was affected by my mental health. I was not eating healthy, didn’t find physical activity enjoyable, and didn’t care about my appearance. My mother was concerned and sought therapy for me. At this point, I knew it must be bad. In addition to my parents, I also had friends who recognized I needed to snap out of this or seek professional support. That was tough hearing that I, the person who problem solves most things couldn’t problem solve his own emotions. Whoa, just typing that brings back the emotions of feeling out of control. You are probably wondering how did I overcome this, well let me tell you. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t my therapist my mom made me see, it was me compartmentalizing my life in areas I could control and areas I couldn’t control. For example, I chose to tackle the easiest tasks first to give me confidence to tackle the areas that were weighing me down. It was close to the end of the school year and I knew I needed to focus on classes that I was for sure going to do well. I did that….great… what’s next? Now, I focused on the next easiest task, basketball. I couldn’t find confidence in it because I wasn’t putting in the work like I used to. I decided to devote time each day to working on that. The basketball focus went hand in hand with making better eating choices. Lastly, I tackled English… yes, my English class was bringing me the most grief and was the class that was the jump start to my spiral. I decided to pray, work hard, and realize if this class did not yield the grade I was seeking it wasn’t going to define me. When I was able to compartmentalize my tasks, my mental health, and ultimately my physical health improved. Looking back I realize this lesson was meant to happen so I can use this strategy in future obstacles. For that, I am thankful.

Engineers, engineers, engineers. I have been surrounded by engineers my whole life. At first, I was resistant to wanting to pursue a career as an engineer and then I took honors chemistry and it changed the focus and the trajectory for my future. This upcoming school year I plan to take AP chemistry to expand my knowledge in this area. I enjoyed learning about chemical properties and foreseeing the impact I could make in the efficiency of industry processes. You see, my vision for the future is one where I want to be known for impacting industries in ways where more efficient and cleaner solutions allow us all to utilize the natural resources we have in more productive and safe ways. I currently live in Texas and my family has benefited from the oil and gas industry for decades. The impact I want to make as a chemical engineer is to bridge our natural resources with safer processes so that the oil and gas industries can continue to thrive but we can all live in a healthier and safer world. My parents have made many sacrifices to ensure I was successful and have a head start in life. One core value I have is being able to pay in forward for my future family and for the next generation. Ensuring a cleaner planet is important to me. How do I plan to accomplish this, you ask? The answer is actually quite simple..work hard, learn from those currently in the field, and consider analytical solutions that make sense and are doable. My personality and who I am naturally makes me a leader. Watching my parents, I have learned that the best leaders are those that learn and truly have a desire to understand how systems work before guiding people. I have been told several times that my soft skills are equally as effective as my hard skills. It’s not about if I find solutions for cleaner manufacturing in the petroleum industry but rather when I do, I am confident that I will be able to lead others to acceptance of those solutions. Mixing solutions and warming wax as a child were “fun” activities. Being able to take what I considered fun, adding guided study of the field, and taking that knowledge and experience to the petroleum industry to make it safer is a dream of mine. My late grandfather worked as a mechanical engineer and after retirement he worked in the wind energy sector. I recall my father asking him questions about the different sectors and realizing that his expertise, experience, and drive to continue learning were able to bring both sectors together in productive ways. My ultimate goal in life is to follow in the wisdom, analytical thinking, and impact that my grandfather made in the petroleum industry. Thank you for your time and consideration. If chosen for this scholarship, I guarantee you will see my name in a publication that highlights my work and ability to merge natural resources with clean processes. Thank you.