I plan to earn Political Science degree and it is very important to me for numerous reasons. It has always been a huge goal of mine to be the first in my family to not only attend a four-year university, but also continue striving to further my education by pursuing a Juris Doctorate degree program. With a Political Science degree, I plan to enroll in a notable law program. I see college as a vital stepping stone in my attorney journey, as the offered Certificate in Public Law courses align perfectly with my career path and can prepare me for the next step in my journey. My ultimate goal is to become an attorney who defends disability rights. The importance of disability defense holds a special place in my heart as I have struggled with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), as well as have family members who have been directly impacted and require support. Since a young age, I have assisted my family with providing care for my uncle who is a quadriplegic and diagnosed with a critical mental illness. This health condition hinders his ability to perform daily tasks on his own that most take for granted—such as walking, drinking water, and eating without assistance. Due to my uncle needing twenty-four-hour care, the phrase “I can’t, I have to watch Uncle Mike” quickly became a recurring statement in my household and the primary cause of having to cancel plans. Growing up, I did not initially understand the significance of taking on this level of responsibility at such a young age, but as I have gotten older, the days of “watching” my uncle have become critical moments in my life, shaping my character and skills of independence—proactive approaches and problem-solving, to name a few—in unimaginable ways that I am forever grateful for. I have taken advantage of the opportunity to learn the importance of these qualities and the legal regulations that work alongside his health conditions. It is because of this that I am truly passionate in my pursuit of studying and understanding the laws that pertain to treating individuals with disabilities with fairness, regardless of their mental or physical challenges. As a disability attorney, I plan to defend the Americans with Disabilities Act (1990) that has been so predominant in my upbringing and daily life. I want to give and amplify the voices of those who are not typically given the platform needed to share their stories, by defending those with cases close to my heart.

Though diagnosed during my freshman year of high school, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) has been a significant battle I have combated since I was little. Tasks that are seemingly second nature to others, like completing a math problem set or even doing loads of laundry, are actions that take extreme amounts of effort and mental discipline to cross off of my to-do lists. The most predominant obstacle that comes alongside this aspect of my life is the constant need for brain stimulation. Throughout my educational career, I have experienced many moments where my mind has wandered during crucial teaching or curriculum practice sessions, making it a draining action to concentrate on various learning ventures during a full school day. Although this has taken a toll on both my mental health and academic achievement at times, my constant need for stimulation has pushed me to explore a range of extracurricular activities both on and off campus. I have immersed myself in a plethora of clubs and organizations that have expanded and embraced my interests and even sought out opportunities for leadership positions in these clubs to provide the mental stimulation to cater to my mind's unique needs. Engaging in multiple activities allows me to channel my restless energy productively and use it to my advantage. ADHD subjects my mind to be composed of a whirlwind of thoughts, ideas, and impulses. While this whirlwind often enables me to explore diverse activities due to my recurring search for something new, it also presents challenges of staying organized. In my constant pursuit of staying active and stimulated, there have been instances when deadlines collided, and priorities seemed impossible to align. These situations created major setbacks in my personal motivation to remain dedicated to the various responsibilities I was committed to. However, to overcome this, I have developed strategies to manage my time, such as breaking tasks into smaller, manageable steps and seeking suitable environments for focused work. Although living with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder has presented significant hurdles throughout the trajectory of my upbringing, and it remains a predominant aspect of my life that I seemingly always have to work around, it is a constant reminder of the importance of perseverance and finding mechanisms that work best for me. Learning to embrace my hyper-activeness and apply it to my life as a beneficial tool has been a strenuous journey. Still, it has also been incredibly rewarding, teaching me valuable lessons that extend beyond the classroom.

Monthly ski field trips, building personal water slides into at-home pools, and Lululemon bags as lunch pails—these were just some of the typical privileges that surrounded me throughout my prestigious elementary school academics. However, I was never able to participate in these activities with the rest of my classmates. I went on many play-dates with my elementary school friends—always taking place at activity centers or my companions’ homes—and returned to my crowded, multi-generational living space, forty-five minutes away from school. At the age of five, my mother established expectations of straight As and honorable participation in my classes. I questioned why she was so hard on me, in comparison to other parents’ acceptance of their childrens’ lighthearted outlooks on their academics. The response, “You are not like the other kids, Chlo; you have to work harder than them. We’ve sacrificed so much for you to be where you are today,” became a key quote in the turning point of my academic career. Coming from a single-parent household, I finally registered the sacrifices my mom always alluded to; the weight of being my main provider at twenty-two and wanting to provide me with the best academics hindered her ability to finish her college education, as she was busy picking up extra shifts to make ends meet. Understanding the significance of my private school placement, I truly took advantage of the vast resources accessible to me. I became more present and participatory in elective activities. I made sculptures and took computer coding classes. At my young age, I knew the importance of absorbing the knowledge from these advanced learning opportunities because most children with my background and familial situation had no access to these prestigious benefits. Graduating from elementary classes, I was enrolled in public school in an effort to assimilate with larger class sizes. Due to my previous advanced education, I entered middle school with a deeper understanding of many topics that my classmates were just learning. Since then, I have benefitted and embraced my academic advantages by applying the discipline and character building that was instilled in me throughout my elementary years. I have taken on challenges, such as enrolling and succeeding in Advanced Placement courses, obtaining leadership positions in most of my extracurriculars, and doing my best to be an advocate on my high school campus. Throughout my educational career, a major motivation of mine has been the determination to be a success story of escaping the poverty structure that most experience as a generational cycle.

Comforting cold mornings wrapped in blankets and pajamas, an abundance of gifts and loved ones, and a tamale-filled dinner platter awaiting my family for the busy day ahead are some of the things that come to mind when thinking of Christmas Day, filling my heart with joy and content. However, some individuals are not lucky enough to be overcome by these warm feelings when reflecting on the holidays. Instead, they wake up to cold mornings, no gifts under their trees, solitude, and an empty stomach, symbolizing their absence of holiday spirit. The charity event, Operation Holiday Cheer, that I have spearheaded for the past two years, brings a personalized experience to these individuals during the season of giving. Unlike typical toy drives that generalize gifts based on the age and gender of recipients, Operation Holiday Cheer revolves around collecting wishlists from residents of our local family restart center to begin our efforts to deliver an individualized gift-giving experience. Once we receive the wishlists, I assemble and post sign-up sheets for fellow students at my school to gather items to donate to the cause, ranging from basic necessities to cherished gifts. When the items are collected, a "wrapping party" is hosted to wrap the presents in preparation for their delivery. This part of the event allows individuals who may not have the financial resources to donate physical items to contribute their time to the cause instead. However, Operation Holiday Cheer does not stop at simply collecting items. I additionally organize a heartwarming event where we deliver gifts and spend the evening with the restart center's residents, sharing cheerful moments and creating lasting memories. We engage in various activities together, such as decorating cookies and playing musical chairs, but most importantly, we establish the importance of human connection. It has opened my eyes to appreciating everything I have the privilege to have in my life, as the individuals we serve during the event are not in pursuit of any fancy new gadget, but mostly basic items, like winter coats or shoes without holes in them. Leading this initiative has taught me many valuable lessons about empathy, leadership, and the notable impact small acts of kindness can have on others. The eyes filled with joy, the squeals of adults when they unwrap new slippers, and the laughs shared throughout the night are what motivate me to continue this event long after I graduate.

Throughout the trajectory of my life, I have always been a very vocal individual; unafraid to share my opinions or concerns, and especially gifted with the skill of being able to communicate them effectively. Due to this, I was raised being told that I should be a lawyer when I grew up–a statement that is not uncommon to be told to those like me. Mistaking one’s desire to gather all perspectives of a discussion, and their common asking of “Why?,” as disrespect to authority figures, society tends to group curious and outspoken adolescents as born-debaters only in need of an outlet to display their argumentative skills. I did not give much thought to my assumed goal of pursuing a law career, as it was what I was supposed to be good at–debating–and it was a field that included the opportunity to do what I was passionate about: being a voice for those who are not listened to. I began my high school career prepared to spend the next four years working toward getting into an admirable law program and obtaining my dream profession. However, my sophomore year, there was a group of students handing something out to others on campus during break time. One of the distributors approached me; “Do you want a paper? It’s the Platinum Press’ latest issue!,” she said. I accepted her offering and looked around at my peers, each excited to read the newest release of the school newspaper. It was an intriguing sight–seeing people my age actually care about physical copies of writing–and every month after that, the students took their post during break time and began the distributing process once again. As the school year continued, I read the different issues and began to notice the various topics covered within the articles; the “Editorials” section particularly caught my interest as the student writers voiced their opinions on controversial and relevant global events. With these aspects in mind, I applied for the Platinum Press and was accepted into the class. As a first-year journalist, I hesitantly applied for the position of Copy Editor and, to my pleasant surprise, was granted the role over a number of those with seniority who also applied. Over the course of my junior year, I have written about things I am passionate about, and continued my aspiration to amplify voices by sharing their stories. Through the school newspaper, I have rediscovered my love for writing, established a newfound family in the newsroom, and strayed from my previous ideal career in law to one involving the media and continuing my daily work of journalistic processes. Journalism is important to me because we write about what is important to us and our audience; stories that the students on campus actually care about and get excited for. I enjoy being a part of the design process, content decisions, and distribution events, as each of these aspects of the newspaper provide me with experiences like no other and vitally strong connections with my peers.

"Hello," to most people, a greeting; to me, a question. When I hear the word "hello," I cannot help but hear the echo of my uncle calling out from his room, questioning if anyone is in the house to help him, or sometimes simply wanting to see a friendly face. Growing up, it was my Nana, his mother, who provided my uncle full-time care to assist with his mental and physical disabilities. These disabilities hindered his ability to perform daily tasks that most take for granted, such as drinking water, taking showers, and even using the restroom. When my Nana suddenly passed, one would expect that his five siblings and extensive family would band together to provide attentiveness. However, only one of his sisters and her immediate family, including myself, took the initiative to protect his health. Due to my uncle needing twenty-four-hour care, the phrase "I can't, I have to watch Uncle Mike" quickly became a recurring statement in my household and the primary cause of having to cancel plans. I did not initially understand the significance of taking on this level of responsibility at such a young age. In fact, I started off somewhat resentful of the role that was unsolicitedly bestowed on me. However, as I have gotten older, this role has helped me recognize the importance of sacrifice in a family unit. I understand the significance and positive impacts of my contributions on not only my uncle's life, but also my family members'. My experience with my uncle has molded me into a resilient individual, fostering empathy and an unwavering commitment to those in need. It has opened my eyes to the profound impact one person can have on another's life. The days of "watching" my uncle have become critical moments in my life, shaping my character and skills of independence (proactive approaches, problem-solving, and caregiving qualities, to name a few) in unimaginable ways that I am forever grateful for. I have taken advantage of the opportunity to learn the importance of prioritizing family and loved ones and develop the everlasting compassion that reflects in my daily interactions and relationships. Most of all, the true prize of taking on this responsibility is the bond that I have been able to form with my uncle and the laughs we share. I have embraced prioritizing our relationship so that the predominant word in mind when thinking of my uncle stays "Hello," and does not change to "Goodbye."

“Don’t worry about her. That girl is going to do great things.” A simple blanket statement; a statement with no multi-faceted metaphorical meaning. However, it is one that engulfed me throughout my childhood. To most, this random person’s vague claim is to be read and disregarded. To me, it is the quote that holds the most meaning in my everyday life, because the author was not just a random person to me, she was my Nana Sally. Nana Sally was an inspiring women; leading a church, teaching to classrooms packed with kids, and being a reliable listening ear to the entire community, all while raising seven children of her own. Her ability to read one’s character was strong and she never lied, so when she made a claim, you believed it. Everyone had the general understanding that to question Nana Sally would be foolish; what experience could you be going through that she has not gone or worked someone else through herself? That is why, when Nana Sally first uttered these words to my mother as she stressed about making ends meet to fund my better primary education, calm instantly followed. Over time, I adopted the saying to confront daily obstacles and overpower negative self-talk. Eventually, the statement grew from a comforting flame during dark times, to a fire that ignited strong ambition. When my school district unjustly banned critical race teachings, not only was I asked to participate in the student-opposing walkout, but also to write the school newspaper article on the controversial protest. We had just lost Nana Sally to a fight against cancer, so as I feared and reflected on the potential consequences of these actions, the idea that overpowered the debate in my mind was the determination to not disappoint Nana Sally. Her voice reminded me to not worry, to do great things; How could powerful change occur without risk? I fought for what I believed in, and my article later enabled a ripple effect of bringing national attention to the local discrimination that was previously going undetected. Remembering Nana Sally’s words influences me in various aspects of my life. My greatest goal is to honor her belief in me and become even a fraction of the role model she was to everyone around her. It is the motivation provided to me by her inspiring memory that prompts me to ask the recurring question: What change can I make, and how can I do great things today?