Just twelve days before it happened, I turned 6. Like many other young boys and girls, I was attending summer camp. The summer before FIRST GRADE! The fun-filled day had ended, and parents were gathering their children, but I was the last one remaining. My dad was late. It was June 27th, 2014—the day my life split into two: before and after. I don’t remember every detail clearly, but certain things are burned into my memory like photographs that never fade. Like the trembling of my mom’s voice and the paleness of her face as she was speaking to my uncle. The light from the sunshine was strange that day as well, too bright and too quiet at the same time. I knew something was wrong before a word was uttered. “Your dad is gone,” mom and dad’s best friend shared the news. Those words didn’t make sense. Gone where? Was he coming back later? I stared at them, waiting for someone to explain. My dad died in a traffic collision. The house had filled quickly—people coming and going, whispering, hugging, and crying. I remember the heaviness in the air and a feeling of walls closing in on me. The adults who had surrounded me were breaking apart, and I didn’t know how to join them. I was too young to understand what “forever” meant, but I knew my world had changed. Soon after my dad’s death, we attended a group at Brook’s Place. It is an organization that supports grieving kids and their families. To me, a place where grief didn’t make you different. At first, I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to sit in circles or talk about feelings. But slowly, I started to see that everyone there understood in a way others didn’t. We played games, drew pictures, and told stories about the people we’d lost. It helped me realize I wasn’t alone, even though I often felt like I was. I didn’t grieve the way the adults did. They cried openly, whispered about memories, and carried sadness in their faces. I grieved in silence. I buried myself in music, video games, and lost hours fighting battles in galaxies far,far away. “Star Wars” became more than just a movie—it was a way to make sense of things. Luke lost his father, too, and yet he still found strength and light. That story gave me hope when I didn’t have the words to describe what I felt. Even now, years later, the loss continues to echo through my life. Every birthday, every Father’s Day, and every small milestone carries a shadow. But with time, I’ve learned that grief doesn’t disappear—it changes shape. It becomes part of who you are, a reminder of how deep love runs. My dad isn’t here, but his memory is stitched into everything I do—the laughter, the resilience, and the quiet moments when I wish I could tell him about my day. For a long time, I thought losing him meant losing part of myself. But over the years, I’ve realized it also gave me something—a kind of strength I never would’ve known otherwise. I’ve learned how to push through hard days, turning pain into motivation. When school gets tough or life feels overwhelming, I remind myself that I’ve already survived the hardest thing imaginable. Perseverance, for me, isn’t about pretending everything is fine—it’s about choosing to keep moving even when it hurts. It’s showing up, working hard, finding meaning in the small things, and carrying my dad’s memory as fuel rather than a weight. Grief may have changed me, but it also taught me compassion, patience, and determination. My story isn’t just about loss—it’s about endurance. It’s about learning to live with a broken heart and still find reasons to smile. Every step forward is proof that I didn’t give up, even when it would’ve been easier to stop trying. Today, I think about that 6-year-old self and stand proud of what I have accomplished as I look forward to graduating high school and continuing my education.

My name is Carter Elder, and I am currently a student at Indiana Digital Learning School, where I’ve learned to balance academic responsibility, personal interests, and community involvement in a self-motivated learning environment. Studying online has strengthened my independence, time management, and discipline, allowing me to grow both academically and personally throughout high school. Outside of the classroom, I am actively involved in several extracurricular activities that have shaped who I am. Through the sport of basketball, I’ve learned teamwork, leadership, resilience, and how to remain composed under pressure. Playing basketball has taught me that success requires both individual effort and collaboration—lessons that I carry into all areas of my life. In addition to athletics, I am a dedicated member of the National Honor Society. Being part of NHS has pushed me to uphold high academic standards and commit myself to service and integrity, values that I consider essential to my character. My involvement in the community is another important part of who I am. I volunteer at God’s Bounty, a local food pantry, where I help organize food donations, assist families as they shop, and support the pantry’s daily operations. This experience has shown me the importance of empathy and community support. Meeting people from all backgrounds and helping provide such a basic need has reminded me that small acts of service can have a meaningful impact. Volunteering has also strengthened my desire to continue serving others throughout my life. After high school, I plan to attend the University of Indianapolis, where I hope to study Sports Communications. I have always been passionate about sports—not only playing them but understanding how they bring people together. A career in sports communications would allow me to combine my love of athletics with my interest in media, storytelling, and public relations. My goal is to work in a field that keeps me connected to the world of sports while allowing me to contribute to the way athletes, teams, and communities share their stories. If I had the opportunity to start my own charity, I would create an organization dedicated to helping dogs find loving homes. Growing up around animals, I developed a deep appreciation for the companionship, joy, and comfort they bring. My charity would focus on rescuing stray, abandoned, or neglected dogs and providing them with medical care, training, and temporary shelter. Volunteers would work directly with the dogs by walking them, socializing them, cleaning their living spaces, and assisting with adoption events. They could also help educate the community about responsible pet ownership and the importance of spaying and neutering. Ultimately, the mission would be to give every dog a safe place to stay and a chance to find a forever family. Overall, my experiences in school, sports, service, and community involvement have shaped me into someone who values hard work, compassion, and dedication—qualities I hope to carry into my future career and any service opportunities that come my way.

Just twelve days before it happened, I turned six. Like many other kids, I was at summer camp—the summer before first grade! The fun-filled day had ended, and parents were picking up their children, but I was the last one left. My dad was late. It was June 27th, 2014—the day my life split in two: before and after. I don’t remember every detail, but some moments are burned into my memory. My mom’s trembling voice. The pale look on her face as she spoke to my uncle. The sunlight that felt too bright and too quiet. I knew something was wrong before a word was said. “Your dad is gone,” my mom and my dad’s best friend told me. Those words didn’t make sense. Gone where? Was he coming back later? I stared at them, waiting for an explanation. Then came the truth—my dad had died in a traffic collision. The house filled quickly with people—whispering, hugging, crying. The air felt heavy, and the walls seemed to close in. The adults around me were breaking apart, and I didn’t know how to join them. I was too young to understand what “forever” meant, but I knew my world had changed. Soon after, my mom took me to Brook’s Place, an organization that supports grieving kids and their families. At first, I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to sit in circles or talk about feelings. But slowly, I began to see that everyone there understood in a way others didn’t. We played games, drew pictures, and told stories about the people we’d lost. It helped me realize I wasn’t alone, even though I often felt like I was. I didn’t grieve like the adults did. They cried openly and whispered about memories. I grieved in silence. I buried myself in music and video games—losing hours fighting battles in galaxies far, far away. Star Wars became more than a movie; it was how I made sense of things. Luke lost his father too, yet he still found strength and light. That story gave me hope when I didn’t have the words to describe what I felt. Even now, years later, the loss still echoes through my life. Every birthday, every Father’s Day, and every small milestone carries a shadow. But with time, I’ve learned that grief doesn’t disappear—it changes shape. It becomes part of who you are, a reminder of how deep love runs. My dad isn’t here, but his memory is stitched into everything I do—the laughter, the resilience, and the quiet moments when I wish I could tell him about my day. For a long time, I thought losing him meant losing part of myself. But I’ve realized it also gave me something—a kind of strength I never would’ve known otherwise. I’ve learned to push through hard days and turn pain into motivation. When school gets tough or life feels overwhelming, I remind myself that I’ve already survived the hardest thing imaginable. Perseverance, for me, isn’t about pretending everything is fine—it’s about choosing to keep moving even when it hurts. It’s showing up, working hard, finding meaning in small things, and carrying my dad’s memory as fuel rather than a weight. Grief changed me, but it also taught me compassion, patience, and determination. My story isn’t just about loss—it’s about endurance. It’s about learning to live with a broken heart and still find reasons to smile. Every step forward is proof that I didn’t give up, even when it would’ve been easier to stop trying.

Essay: Community Involvement, Financial Need, and Youth Safety By Carter Elder My name is Carter Elder, and I am currently a high school senior in the graduating class of 2026. As I prepare to begin my journey into higher education, I reflect not only on my goals and ambitions but also on the ways I have served my community, the financial challenges I face, and the responsibility I feel to help keep children and youth safe—both in-person and online. Community involvement has always been a key part of who I am. Whether through school events, service clubs, or volunteer work, I try to use my time and energy to make a difference for others. I believe that even small actions can have a big impact. I’ve participated in local clean-up events, volunteered at school functions, and helped support classmates who may be struggling socially or emotionally. I try to be someone who listens, who supports, and who leads by example. I don’t do these things for recognition—I do them because I care about people and I want my community to be a place where everyone feels welcome and safe. As I enter higher education, financial need is one of the biggest obstacles I face. Like many students, I come from a family that is doing its best, but college is expensive. Between tuition, textbooks, housing, and transportation, the costs add up quickly. I would be incredibly grateful for any financial aid available to help ease this burden. I am determined to succeed in college, and financial assistance would allow me to focus more on my studies and less on how I will afford them. One area I care deeply about is the safety of children and youth, especially when it comes to bullying and cyberbullying. I believe everyone deserves to feel safe, whether they are walking through the school hallways or browsing the internet at home. That’s why I make it a personal responsibility to step up if I see someone being mistreated. I follow the principle: “If you see something, say something.” I report bullying to trusted adults, support the victim, and do my best to discourage others from spreading negativity or hate. Online, I speak out against cyberbullying and encourage my peers to treat others with respect and kindness. Silence only allows bullying to grow—speaking up can stop it in its tracks. In everything I do, I aim to build a better, kinder, and more inclusive community. With support through financial aid and the opportunity to continue my education, I hope to expand my ability to give back and help even more.

ADHD, Generalized Anxiety, NVLD (bet this is one you are not familiar with, most are not), and unilateral hearing: THESE “DIFFERENCES” DO NOT DEFINE ME! Living with a learning difference has taught me more about perseverance than any textbook. From the beginning, school was never easy. While my classmates seemed to breeze through reading and writing assignments, I struggled to keep up. Even though I tried my hardest, I often felt frustrated, behind, and misunderstood. But those early challenges shaped me into a person who doesn’t give up easily. I’ve had to work harder, advocate for myself, and discover what truly motivates me to continue learning. One of the most difficult challenges I’ve faced is processing information at a slower pace than others. In a typical classroom setting, everything moves quickly—lectures, assignments, tests—and it can be overwhelming. I’ve often needed extra time on exams or further clarification in understanding instructions, which sometimes made me feel different or even embarrassed. There were days when I doubted myself and I felt like no matter how hard I tried, I would always fall short. On top of that, it was hard to stay organized and manage due dates, which added more pressure and stress. As I got older the learning differences extended beyond the classroom and into social settings (NVLD). I could present an entire essay on this language based learning difference, but for the purpose of this essay I want the readers to understand that not all “disabilities” are recognized by the schools. Having a language based learning difference, such as NVLD, has greatly impacted my ability to create and sustain positive relationships with my peers. Therefore, impacting what school looked like for me. My education settings have not been traditional. From brick and mortar, a private school, and eventually to an online education platform the past two years. In 2026, I will graduate high school with an Honors Diploma and an Indiana College Core Certificate. Despite these struggles, I’ve learned to adapt and find strength in the support systems around me. My IEP has given me helpful tools, such as extended time on tests, one-on-one support, and the ability to break assignments into smaller parts. My teachers and family have played a big role in encouraging me not to give up. I’ve also learned how to advocate for myself by speaking up about what I need. Over time, I started seeing small successes, and those victories reminded me that progress is possible—even if it takes longer. I’ve become more organized, better at managing my time, and more confident in my abilities. What keeps me going is my desire to succeed and prove to myself that I am capable of reaching my goals. I want to show others—and myself—that a learning difference doesn’t define who I am or what I can achieve. I dream of building a career that I’m passionate about and will use my experiences to help others who may be struggling too. Higher education is my path forward, and I’m committed to continuing the journey, no matter how challenging it gets.

How I Will Make a Positive Impact on the World Each person has the power to make a difference, no matter how small their actions may seem. I believe that creating a positive impact on the world doesn’t always require grand gestures—it starts with the mindset of wanting to help others, improve lives, and leave the world a little better than I found it. I plan to make a meaningful impact by combining compassion, action, and a commitment to learning and leadership. One of the most important ways I hope to make a difference is through service to others. I am passionate about volunteering, as I volunteer at a local food pantry every week. I’ve seen firsthand how a small act of giving can brighten someone’s day, whether it’s helping them carry groceries or simply offering a smile and a kind word. In the future, I plan to expand my involvement by volunteering at more non profits as well as animal shelters. Leadership will also be a big part of how I try to improve the world. I believe good leaders use their voice to uplift others, promote justice, and unite people around a common goal. I strive to be that kind of leader—someone who listens, collaborates, and inspires action. By leading with integrity and compassion, I hope to create a ripple effect in my community that encourages others to do the same. Whether it’s leading a student club or helping mediate conflicts, I want to be someone others can trust and look to for support and guidance. Another way I aim to make a positive impact is through education and awareness. I want to keep learning about global issues like climate change, inequality, and mental health, and then share that knowledge with others. Raising awareness and starting conversations—especially with young people—can lead to greater understanding and change. I believe that change often begins with education and empathy. Finally, I will make a positive impact by always being a kind and thoughtful person. The world needs more kindness, and I believe that even small acts—like being respectful, listening to someone who’s struggling, or standing up against bullying—can make a big difference in someone’s life. In the end, my goal is to leave the world better than I found it—not through fame or fortune, but by helping others, acting with integrity, and doing my part to make the world more compassionate, sustainable, and just. I know the journey won’t always be easy, but I’m ready to start making a difference—one step at a time.