Selected Paragraph (Epictetus, Enchiridion, 1): “Some things are up to us and some things are not up to us. Up to us are opinion, impulse, desire, aversion-in a word, whatever is our own doing. Not up to us are our body, property, reputation, office, and, in a word, whatever is not our own doing. The things up to us are by nature free, unhindered, and unimpeded; the things not up to us are weak, enslaved, hindered, and not our own.” Epictetus’s central claim is not merely a distinction between control and lack of control, but a radical redefinition of human freedom: true freedom consists in aligning one’s sense of self exclusively with moral agency, thereby dissolving the emotional tyranny of fortune, loss, and social judgment. Epictetus opens the Enchiridion with a deceptively simple division that has misled generations of readers into thinking Stoicism is about emotional detachment or passive resignation. In fact, this opening paragraph establishes a far more ambitious project. By separating what is “up to us” from what is not, Epictetus is not offering practical advice for stress management; he is proposing a philosophical surgery on the self. He wants to cut away everything we mistakenly identify as “me” and leave behind only what is genuinely ours: the capacity for rational judgment and ethical choice. The force of the passage lies in how narrowly Epictetus defines ownership. Opinion, impulse, desire, and aversion-these are internal movements of judgment, the ways the mind interprets and responds to the world. Everything else, including the body itself, falls outside this domain. This is a shocking claim, especially in a culture that treats physical health, social status, and public recognition as extensions of identity. Epictetus denies that these things belong to us at all. They may be associated with us, but they are not governed by us, and therefore cannot define our freedom. By labeling external things as “enslaved” and “hindered,” Epictetus reverses common intuition. We typically think wealth, power, and reputation increase freedom. Epictetus argues the opposite: dependence on these things places the self at the mercy of chance, other people, and time. If my sense of worth depends on my body, I am enslaved to illness and aging. If it depends on reputation, I am enslaved to opinion. If it depends on office or status, I am enslaved to political currents I cannot command. What appears strong is actually fragile. The paragraph’s underlying ethical argument is that suffering is not caused by events, but by misidentification. Pain arises when we treat what is not ours as if it were essential to who we are. This is why Epictetus insists that what is truly “up to us” is “by nature free.” Moral agency cannot be coerced in the same way the body can be imprisoned or property confiscated. Even under extreme external constraint, the capacity to judge, assent, or refuse remains intact. Freedom, then, is not a condition granted by society but an internal discipline maintained by clarity. Importantly, Epictetus is not dismissing the value of external things. He is redefining their ethical status. Health, wealth, and reputation may be preferred or dispreferred, but they are not goods in the moral sense. They do not make a person better or worse. Only the use of judgment does that. This distinction prevents both despair and arrogance. Loss does not degrade one’s moral worth, and success does not enhance it. What matters is how one responds to either condition. This framework also carries a moral demand that is often overlooked. If opinion and desire are truly up to us, then we cannot excuse our reactions by appealing to circumstance. Anger, envy, fear, and despair are not imposed from outside; they are choices of interpretation. This does not mean they are easy to control, but it does mean they are our responsibility. Epictetus’s philosophy removes the alibi of fate. One cannot claim to be free while blaming the world for one’s inner disorder. The distinction Epictetus draws also clarifies the nature of ethical effort. Instead of attempting to control outcomes, which is futile, the Stoic focuses on refining judgment. This inward turn is not escapism; it is realism. By investing energy only where agency exists, the individual avoids the frustration of fighting reality. The result is not passivity, but precision. Action becomes deliberate rather than reactive, guided by principle rather than fear of loss. Perhaps the most unsettling implication of the passage is that freedom is available to everyone, regardless of circumstance. Epictetus himself was born enslaved, and his philosophy reflects this lived reality. By locating freedom entirely within moral agency, he denies external oppression the power to define the self. This is not a denial of injustice, but a refusal to let injustice dictate one’s inner life. Ethical dignity becomes inviolable. Ultimately, this opening paragraph functions as a gatekeeper to the entire Stoic system. Without accepting this redefinition of freedom, the rest of Epictetus’s teachings collapse into platitudes. With it, however, the reader is forced to confront a demanding truth: most human suffering is not caused by the world’s instability, but by our insistence on grounding identity in what cannot be secured. Epictetus challenges us to relocate the self where it cannot be taken-within the disciplined use of reason-and to recognize that anything else was never truly ours to begin with.

When I first joined JROTC, I thought I was signing up for discipline and structure—but what I found was a deeper purpose. The program taught me that real leadership isn't about giving orders. It’s about serving others, even when no one’s watching. JROTC introduced me to community service, and over time, it became more than just volunteering hours—it became a way of life. One of the most meaningful moments for me was organizing a local food drive in my neighborhood. Many families were struggling, and I saw how something as simple as a bag of groceries could lift someone’s spirits. Through experiences like this—along with flag ceremonies, tutoring younger cadets, and helping at community clean-up events—I began to see that service is powerful. It connects people. It builds trust. And most importantly, it gives hope. But the road hasn’t always been smooth. In my first year of JROTC, I was quiet, unsure of myself, and terrified of failure. I remember being asked to lead a drill team at the last minute. I wanted to say no. I didn't feel ready. But something in me said, “Try.” I stumbled through the first practice, second-guessed every decision—but I kept showing up. We didn’t win the competition, but I gained something more valuable: confidence. That experience changed my goals. I stopped doubting myself and started working harder to earn leadership roles. I learned that growth doesn’t happen in comfort zones—it happens when you rise to the moment, no matter how shaky your voice is. Now, my dream is to continue serving others through a career that uplifts underserved communities—whether through public service, the military, or community health. I want to be on the front lines of change, especially in neighborhoods that too often get overlooked. I believe everyone deserves access to opportunity, and I want to be someone who helps open those doors. If I could be the world’s next superhero, my theme song would be “Rise” by Katy Perry. It’s not about being the strongest or the loudest—it’s about resilience. It’s about getting back up, time and time again, with purpose in your heart. That song reflects my journey—from a quiet cadet to someone ready to lead, serve, and rise above any challenge. This scholarship would not just support my education—it would be an investment in a future leader committed to community, compassion, and change. I’m ready to serve—not just with words, but with action.

The American Dream has long stood as a symbol of hope, opportunity, and ambition. Rooted in the idea that anyone—regardless of their background, social status, or origin—can achieve success and prosperity through hard work and determination, the American Dream has inspired generations to believe in a better future. But in today’s complex and ever-changing world, what does the American Dream truly mean? At its core, the American Dream is about possibility. It’s the belief that with enough effort, individuals can rise above their circumstances and shape their own destiny. This ideal has attracted millions to the United States throughout history, from immigrants fleeing hardship to citizens seeking to reinvent themselves. For many, owning a home, securing a stable job, raising a family, and building a life better than their parents’ represents the fulfillment of that dream. However, the American Dream is not a one-size-fits-all concept. Its definition varies widely depending on who you ask. For some, it’s financial independence or entrepreneurial success. For others, it’s the freedom to express oneself, to live without fear or persecution, or simply to have access to education and healthcare. In this way, the Dream is deeply personal—shaped by individual values, histories, and experiences. Yet, as inspiring as the American Dream is, it is also filled with contradictions. The idea that hard work always leads to success ignores the systemic barriers many face—poverty, racism, gender inequality, and unequal access to education and resources. Not everyone starts the race from the same starting line, and for some, the Dream feels more like a distant illusion than an attainable goal. Still, the power of the American Dream lies not just in achieving it, but in striving for it. It serves as a motivation to push beyond limitations, to innovate, and to hope. It's a vision that encourages resilience and courage, even in the face of adversity. It challenges individuals and the nation as a whole to live up to its ideals—freedom, equality, and justice for all. In modern times, the American Dream is evolving. Young people today are redefining success—not just in terms of wealth, but in purpose, balance, and social impact. They are questioning traditional paths and forging new ones, driven not just by ambition but by values and connection. This shift doesn't mean the Dream is dying—it means it's adapting to reflect the realities and aspirations of a new generation. Ultimately, the American Dream is a mirror. It reflects both our highest hopes and our deepest flaws. It asks us not only what kind of life we want to build, but what kind of country we want to be. And while it may never be perfect or guaranteed, the pursuit of the Dream remains one of the most defining—and enduring—aspects of the American identity.

I grew up living with my grandparents, whose home was on the flight path of a major airport. A normal day for me was sitting in the front yard, waiting for the planes to fly over my head. I was fascinated by them, but my connection was simply being in awe of these massive human accomplishments. My perspective changed when I was 13 and traveled by plane for the first time; I discovered that airplanes not only carried people to their destinations, but also my dreams of becoming part of the aviation industry. While waiting to board, I saw the pilot on the apron thoroughly checking the airplane’s condition. Seeing this made me realize that pilots play an indispensable role in the aviation industry. I thought about how they are responsible for the passengers’ safety and how many people depend on pilots for safe travel. Even though I had been fascinated by planes for many years, this experience was the moment that inspired me to pursue my dream of becoming a pilot and safely transporting people. Beyond that, I also always had a question in mind: how do those giant machines go up into the sky? I realized that my fascination was more than just flying - it included the engineering behind the flight. I wanted to understand how the mechanical systems inside the plane operate. The curiosity brought me to aerospace engineering, a field that focuses on understanding, innovating, and improving aviation. My passion for aviation is not only by the excitement of flight but also by the desire to contribute to an industry that connects people and cultures around the world. I am inspired by the teamwork, precision, and innovation that aviation requires, and I want to be part of that. No mater what kind of role will I be in the aviation industry, I am driven by the goal of ensuring safety, efficiency, and advancement in air travel. Safety always comes first above everything else. Aviation represents a perfect blend of science, technology, and human connection, and pursuing a career in this field allows me to follow my dreams while making a positive impact on others. Aviation challenges me to continually learn and grow, pushing the boundaries of what is possible. The dynamic nature of this industry excites me, and I am passionate about becoming a commercial pilot in the future and bringing people safely to their destinations.

After an exhausting first day of my junior year, my energy was completely drained from studying in school for five hours. As I approached the Algebra II classroom, math was the last thing on my mind. Mr. Arredondo was standing at the door greeting every student, and I entered the class expecting a boring lecture for another hour until the school ended. When the bell rang, he immediately came in and began teaching, and I realized I was wrong. I was used to classes beginning late because teachers seemed to still be preparing their lessons or doing other things, but Mr. Arredondo was excited to begin! Instead of teaching materials from traditional textbooks, he used many examples from our daily experiences, which made math easier and more relatable. It was the first time that I had a teacher who excited my interest in math. Before that, I had always seen math as a confusing and difficult subject—something I struggled to understand and often avoided putting my full effort into. Mr. Arredondo was different, not just because he was dedicated to teaching, but also because he cared about my feelings. During his class, I followed his teaching techniques, asked questions, and reviewed his lessons; thus, I always got good grades on the exams and he would proudly announce it every time. His encouragement became my motivation to keep doing my best, and I could feel my personal growth. When I began studying for the SAT and found myself struggling with the math section, Mr. Arredondo didn’t hesitate to help. Without me even having to ask twice, he stayed after school, working through practice questions with me, breaking down the problems, and reminding me that I could do it. Those after-school sessions were never rushed. He gave me his full attention, and that kind of support meant more to me than he probably knew. He made me feel capable. Little by little, my frustration with math faded and was replaced by something I never expected: confidence. Math became one of my favorite subjects, a feeling I never expected to have. His impact has changed my perspective on math and myself. Sadly, it was his last year of his teaching career, but his dedication, his kindness, and his passion for teaching will always be a part of the reason I believe in myself today. He made math meaningful, but more importantly, he helped me see my own value. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

One of the most moving performances of Taylor Swift’s career, for me, was her acoustic rendition of “All Too Well (10 Minute Version)” during the Red (Taylor’s Version) short film premiere in 2021. It wasn’t a stadium full of flashing lights or pyrotechnics—it was just Taylor, a guitar, and her raw emotions. But that stripped-back setting made it all the more powerful. You could feel the weight of every lyric she sang, and the years of experience, heartbreak, and healing that had gone into rewriting and reclaiming that song. What struck me most was how present and vulnerable she allowed herself to be in front of such an intimate audience. She wasn’t just performing a song—she was reliving a deeply personal story that so many fans have connected with. You could hear her voice break slightly during certain lines, not from a lack of control, but from sheer emotion. It was honest and unfiltered in a way that reminded everyone why she’s such a respected storyteller. That performance felt like a full-circle moment. After years of fans begging to hear the full version, Taylor gave them not only the song, but a performance that honored everything it stood for—grief, growth, memory, and self-worth. In an industry that often polishes every emotion, that night, Taylor chose authenticity. And that’s what made it unforgettable.

Love Island has always been known for its dramatic twists, cheeky games, and unexpected revelations that keep both the Islanders and viewers on their toes. To continue that tradition, I’ve come up with a brand-new challenge called “Ex Marks the Spot.” It’s designed to bring out secrets, stir emotions, and test trust—all while staying true to the playful yet explosive nature of the show. In this challenge, Islanders take part in a treasure hunt-style game where hidden secrets are waiting to be discovered… literally. The setup involves a large sandpit in the garden, filled with glass bottles containing scrolls. Each scroll holds a mysterious secret about one of the Islanders—some light-hearted, some jaw-dropping. The twist is that the scrolls are color-coded (pink for girls, blue for boys) but don’t reveal exactly who the secret is about. One by one, Islanders dig through the sand and pull out a scroll. Once a secret is uncovered, it is read aloud—either by the host or through the iconic voice-over narration. The Islander who found the scroll must then guess which contestant the secret belongs to, and explain their reasoning. If they guess correctly, they earn a point. If they guess wrong, the correct Islander must step forward, potentially leading to some awkward or hilarious moments depending on the nature of the secret. What makes this challenge especially juicy is that some of the secrets may be about current couples, while others could be from past relationships—or even submitted by people outside the villa. For example, one secret might be, “This Islander still stalks their ex’s Instagram stories every single day,” or “This Islander admitted to having feelings for someone in the villa but hasn’t told them.” One scroll, however, contains a message from someone’s actual ex, which adds an extra layer of drama. The final twist? At the end of the challenge, the Islanders are told that one of the exes may be entering the villa soon. The winners of the challenge—one boy and one girl with the most correct guesses—are rewarded with a romantic private date. Meanwhile, the rest of the villa is left reeling from the revelations, questioning loyalties, and wondering who might be the next person to walk through those famous villa doors. What makes “Ex Marks the Spot” such a great fit for Love Island is how it blends fun, tension, and unpredictability. It keeps the mood entertaining with the digging and guessing elements, but it also opens the door for emotional confessions, jealousy, and playful banter. Like the best Love Island moments, it pushes relationships to the limit while keeping the viewers hooked.

I’m a fan of Sabrina Carpenter because she’s grown into her own voice in a way that feels honest, bold, and unapologetically real. I first discovered her during her Girl Meets World days, and back then she was this talented, sweet actress with a great voice. But watching how she’s evolved over the years—from a Disney star to a fully independent artist—has been inspiring. What really made me a true fan was seeing how she took control of her music and started writing songs that didn’t feel watered down or overly filtered. Albums like emails I can’t send and Short n’ Sweet showed a more personal, vulnerable side of her. She doesn’t shy away from heartbreak, awkward moments, or insecurity—but she turns those feelings into something empowering. Songs like “because i liked a boy” or “skin” hit hard because they show her navigating judgment and criticism while still staying true to herself. That kind of confidence doesn’t come easy, and seeing her own it has pushed me to care less about what others think and more about how I want to express myself. Sabrina’s also funny and clever, both in her lyrics and in how she presents herself in interviews or on stage. She’s not afraid to be sarcastic or call things out with humor, and that balance of strength and playfulness has honestly helped me feel more comfortable in my own skin. She’s taught me that you can be emotional and strong at the same time, and that being soft doesn’t mean you’re weak. Her journey has reminded me that growth takes time and that it’s okay to change—your sound, your style, your opinions. She never let being labeled as a “Disney girl” stop her from becoming the artist she wanted to be. That’s had a huge impact on me, especially when I’ve felt boxed in or underestimated. Watching her break through those limits made me believe I could too, in my own way. At the end of the day, Sabrina Carpenter is more than just a pop star to me—she’s someone who’s shown how powerful it can be to own your story, even when it’s messy. And that’s something I’ll always admire.

I’ve always been a fan of Wicked because it completely changed the way I thought about stories, people, and how quick we are to label things as “good” or “bad.” I remember watching it for the first time and expecting a simple prequel to The Wizard of Oz, but instead I got something much deeper and more emotional. What stuck with me the most was Elphaba’s journey. She’s painted as the villain by the world around her, but as the story unfolds, you realize how misunderstood she is. That hit home for me. Growing up, I didn’t always fit in. I was quiet, a little different, and sometimes felt like I had to work twice as hard to be heard or understood. Watching Elphaba go through that—feeling out of place, being judged for things out of her control—it made me feel seen in a way I didn’t expect from a musical. And then there’s her friendship with Glinda, which might be one of the most powerful parts of the whole show. They come from completely different worlds, yet they find this complicated, real bond. It reminded me that people can surprise you, and that some of the best connections in life are the ones you never see coming. Especially, the music is unforgettable. “Defying Gravity” gave me chills the first time I heard it live. That moment when Elphaba literally rises up, singing about not letting anyone hold her back—it’s more than just theatrical, it’s inspiring. It felt like a call to own who you are, no matter what the world says. Wicked isn’t just about witches and magic—it’s about choosing your own path, challenging what you’ve been told, and finding strength in your differences. That’s what makes it special to me. It’s stayed with me long after the final curtain.

I grew up living with my grandparents, whose home was on the flight path of a major airport. A normal day for me was sitting in the front yard, waiting for the planes to fly over my head. I was fascinated by them, but my connection was simply being in awe of these massive human accomplishments. My perspective changed when I was 13 and traveled by plane for the first time; I discovered that airplanes not only carried people to their destinations, but also my dreams of becoming part of the aviation industry. While waiting to board, I saw the pilot on the apron thoroughly checking the airplane’s condition. Seeing this made me realize that pilots play an indispensable role in the aviation industry. I thought about how they are responsible for the passengers’ safety and how many people depend on pilots for safe travel. Even though I had been fascinated by planes for many years, this experience was the moment that inspired me to pursue my dream of becoming a pilot and safely transporting people. Beyond that, I also always had a question in mind: how do those giant machines go up into the sky? I realized that my fascination was more than just flying - it included the engineering behind the flight. I wanted to understand how the mechanical systems inside the plane operate. The curiosity brought me to aerospace engineering, a field that focuses on understanding, innovating, and improving aviation. During high school, I actively sought out chances to demonstrate my leadership ability by serving in many different organizations. In school, I am a member of the student council and the Cancer Care Club. In both organizations, I take an active role and serve as a leader in decision-making and problem solving. I also show leadership in my weekend volunteer role at a local no-kill animal shelter. As an animal care-assistant and adoption counselor, it is up to me to match potential adoptees with the right animals and provide guidance throughout the adoption process. I have also become a mentor to new volunteers, providing orientation and showing them how to best do the job. However, my work as a College Board Ambassador best exemplifies my leadership qualities. I decided to apply for this position to provide valuable information about the college application process to students in my high school. However, I believed in the purpose of this role and appreciated the challenge, knowing it would push me to improve myself while helping others at the same time. Even though I had reasons to be hesitant about applying for the role, my desire to help students navigate the system was stronger than my personal fears. I was surprised and excited when I got the news that I was selected as an ambassador. I got to know other ambassadors and found we shared common academic experiences; I continuously learn from them as they learn from me. As the only ambassador selected from my high school, it is my responsibility to provide my peers with college information. This made me become more outgoing and take initiative to improve students’ awareness of college and career planning. Despite English being my third language and my lack of confidence at first, this activity built my independence and communication skills. I feel proud of my leadership through seeking out this role despite entering an American high school only a year ago. I know I will continue to serve as a leader in college as it is a role I naturally find.