I did not grow up with a clear picture of what my future would look like. My grandparents raised me after my parents had me when they were both 15, and for a long time, I was simply focused on figuring out what I wanted and how I was going to get there. That has made the idea of building my future especially meaningful to me. I have learned that I do not need to have every step figured out to keep moving forward. I started working in high school through a fellowship with NYC Parks and Green Guerillas, went on to become the first person in my immediate family to graduate from college, and recently earned my master’s degree in public media. Along the way, I discovered that I want to build a career in journalism. I have always been curious about people and the places they live, and I like the process of finding a story and figuring out why it matters. Writing for NYS Music has given me the chance to cover artists and events across New York, while my work with Show Brain has shown me another side of storytelling and community. As a volunteer, I helped put on free concerts in New York City parks and saw how something as simple as music could bring strangers together. Those experiences have made me want to build a career that connects people with information, stories, and experiences they might not otherwise encounter. I am especially interested in public-facing journalism because I want my work to be useful to the people reading or watching it. I still do not know exactly where that career will take me, and I think that is okay. Right now, I am focused on continuing to learn, gaining experience, and finding opportunities that challenge me. I have spent much of my life figuring things out as I go, and I think that has made me comfortable with building something before I can see exactly what it will become.

My grandparents raised me after my parents had me when they were both 15 years old. Because they were so young, my grandparents stepped in and became the people who raised me. I grew up in a multigenerational household, which meant I was surrounded by family from an early age. There was always someone home, someone to talk to, and someone making sure I was taken care of. Growing up, I understood that my family did not have the same financial resources as some of the families around me. When I went to friends’ houses, I noticed that they had things I did not. They could pick out new clothes, choose from more food, or ask for toys without their parents having to think twice about it. Those differences made me aware of money at a young age, but they also taught me something more important. My grandparents could not give me everything I wanted, but they gave me their time, their support, and a home where I always felt cared for. That upbringing made me independent. I learned early that if I wanted something, I might have to work for it. My first job was through a high school fellowship with NYC Parks and Green Guerillas, and earning my own money gave me a sense of independence that stayed with me. I continued working throughout college and graduate school while pursuing an education that no one in my immediate family had experienced before. I eventually became the first person in my family to graduate from college and went on to earn my master’s degree. Being raised by my grandparents also shaped what I want to do with my life. Their support gave me the confidence to pursue a career in journalism and public media, even when I was entering unfamiliar territory. I want my work to help people understand the communities around them and to bring attention to stories that might otherwise be overlooked. I often think about how different my childhood might have been if my grandparents had not stepped in. I was fortunate to grow up with people who made sure I knew I was capable of more than my circumstances might have suggested. Their example taught me that support can change the direction of someone’s life, and that is something I hope to offer others through both my work and the communities I become part of.

My grandparents raised me after my parents had me when they were 15 years old. So I grew up in a multigenerational household, surrounded by family and rarely without someone looking out for me. We did not have much money, but I never felt short on love or support. I became more aware of our financial situation as I got older. When I visited friends’ houses, I noticed that they had choices I did not. They could pick out new clothes, choose what they wanted to eat, or ask their parents for a new toy. I never resented them for having those things, but I understood that if I wanted something, I could not always expect my family to provide it. That realization made me independent early. I got my first job in high school through a fellowship with NYC Parks and Green Guerillas. Earning my own money was important to me, but so was realizing that I could create opportunities for myself. I carried that mindset into college and graduate school, working while pursuing my education and eventually becoming the first person in my immediate family to graduate from college and earn a master’s degree. My upbringing has also shaped how I give back. I know how much it matters to have people who believe in you when you do not have many resources. That is why I volunteer with Show Brain, a nonprofit that throws free live outdoor concerts. My family taught me to work hard, make the most of every opportunity, and appreciate the people who help me along the way. I hope to carry those lessons into my career in journalism by using my work to help others feel heard.

I found Show Brain almost by accident. I had gone to a free concert in Washington Square Park and ended up volunteering with the organization that put it on. At the time, I was mostly interested in the music and the idea of helping with something that brought artists into public spaces. I did not expect that one afternoon would eventually turn into several years of volunteering, or that I would come to recognize the parks, musicians, volunteers, and regular concertgoers as a small community of my own. Show Brain organizes free outdoor concerts throughout New York City, which means much of the work happens long before anyone hears the first note. As I became more involved, I helped coordinate with artists, sponsors, city agencies, and precincts, while also handling the practical problems that come with putting on an event in a public park. I built relationships with musicians and helped expand the organization's artist database from fewer than ten performers to more than 100. I also helped with audience outreach and event logistics, sometimes spending an entire day solving problems that most people would never notice once the concert began. That invisible work became one of my favorite parts of volunteering. I liked knowing that a successful afternoon in the park depended on dozens of people quietly doing their part. More importantly, I began to see what happened when all of that work came together. People who had never met sat beside one another on the grass. Parents brought their children, friends met up after work, and people who had simply been passing through the park stopped to listen. Someone might arrive knowing exactly who they wanted to see, while another person might discover a new musician simply because they happened to walk by at the right time. The concerts gave people a reason to stay, listen, and share a space with one another. The artists became an important part of that experience for me, too. I watched musicians return to perform year after year and saw how much it meant to them to have an audience and a place to share their work. Through Show Brain, I have had the chance to work with more than 100 artists and help create concerts that have reached thousands of New Yorkers each season. Those numbers are satisfying, but they do not really capture why I continued volunteering. What stays with me are the smaller moments, like recognizing a musician from a previous summer, seeing a child dance through an entire set, or watching strangers strike up a conversation because they happened to be standing next to each other. Living in New York can make it easy to feel anonymous, even when millions of people surround you. My years with Show Brain have given me a different experience of the city. I have seen how a shared interest, a public park, and a few hours of music can turn strangers into neighbors, even temporarily. I am proud that I have been able to contribute to those moments, and I think that is what community service means to me now: helping create the circumstances where people can find one another.

I'll never forget the feeling I felt, looking up at a billboard in Times Square and realizing, in disbelief, that I had helped create what was on it. I knew how much work went into those images, how many people worked long hours, and how many small decisions led to something people might only glance at for a few seconds. The same campaign showed up in subway stations across the city, tucked into people’s daily commutes. That experience didn’t change everything, but it clarified something I had been building toward. I liked being part of something that comes together piece by piece. I liked knowing how content is developed, created, and then shared, but I still felt like I was only seeing part of it. That curiosity is what pushed me to apply to graduate school for media at Fordham University, where I could better understand not just how things are made, but how they reach people and why they matter. Right now, I’m balancing graduate school with freelance work in creative production, and no two days really look the same. Some weeks are packed, others are uncertain, and I’ve had to figure out how to stay steady through both. There isn’t a perfect routine to rely on, so I’ve had to build one for myself. I’ve gotten used to working in fragments of time, finishing assignments in between other responsibilities, and staying focused even when I’m tired. It’s not a system that looks impressive from the outside, but it works, and it’s what’s allowed me to keep moving forward. When I first started working on set, most of what I did was behind the scenes and easy to overlook. I was the person making sure things were where they needed to be, catching small details before they became problems, and paying attention in ways that weren’t always visible to anyone else. Over time, I found myself becoming more involved in how things actually looked and felt, not just how they functioned. I started thinking more about the visual side of a shoot, how a space is arranged, how small changes can shift the tone of an image. That shift didn’t happen all at once, but it changed how I saw my role and what I wanted to grow into. At the same time, some of the most meaningful work I’ve done hasn’t been tied to big campaigns or visible outcomes. I volunteer with Show Brain, helping organize free music events in New York City parks. People bring blankets, sit on the grass, and listen. There’s no cost to be there, which changes the kind of space it becomes. I have also worked with high school students through a poetry outreach program, helping them write and perform their first poems. Watching someone stand up and share something they wrote, especially when they’re unsure of themselves, stays with you in a different way. Being in both of those spaces has shaped how I think about the kind of work I want to keep doing. There’s something valuable about creating work that reaches a wide audience, but there is also something just as important about smaller moments where the impact is immediate and personal. I’ve learned to pay attention to both. They ask for different things, but they both require care, attention, and follow-through. Academically, I’ve tried to bring that same consistency into my work. I graduated cum laude with my bachelor’s degree, and I currently hold a 4.0 GPA in graduate school. Those outcomes didn’t come from having extra time or an easy schedule. They came from learning how to stay focused and follow through, even when everything else is competing for my attention. School has become part of how I ground myself, even when other parts of my life are less predictable. Paying for school while working freelance has been one of the harder parts of this process. Income isn’t always consistent, but tuition and expenses don’t adjust to match that. I’ve taken on as much work as I can and tried to plan ahead, but there are limits. There are times when I have to choose between taking on more work or protecting time for school, and neither choice feels easy. This scholarship would make that balance more manageable. It would give me room to focus on my coursework without constantly recalculating what I can afford. It would also allow me to keep building the kind of work I care about, both professionally and in the community, without having to step back from one to support the other. I don’t think of where I am right now as a starting point. It feels more like something already in progress. School, work, and the choices I’ve made around both are all connected. I’ve built a way of moving through them that depends on consistency more than anything else. Support like this would not change that approach, but it would make it easier to sustain.

Sabrina Carpenter has been a source of inspiration for me since I first saw her on Girl Meets World. Her character of Maya Hart always made me laugh; I loved her sarcasm and quick wit. But what has stayed with me about Sabrina is her sense of confidence. She owns every scene, every word, every choice, every lyric! Watching her, I realized that talent alone is never enough. You need drive, ambition, and the willingness to take risks. Years later, that same ambition comes through in her music. Songs like Please Please Please and Espresso are honest, and empowering. They make you feel like it is okay to be yourself, to speak for yourself, and to go after what you want. Sabrina’s career transition from acting to music inspires me. Personally, after working in creative production for more than four years, I decided to return to school for a master’s degree in communications. It felt very scary and risky. I was stepping into the unknown, just like Sabrina stepping into a music career. But witnessing her fearlessness reminded me that growth comes from embracing change and taking chances. Her drive motivates me to push toward my own goals and to approach new challenges with the same determination. The way she conducts herself in interviews has taught me too. She motivates me to display my authentic personality when I do interviews and reporting in the future. Ambition is not just about achieving. It is about being authentic and letting your personality shine while pursuing your goals. Honestly, Sabrina Carpenter has influenced me more than I expected. She has shown me that it is possible to follow your passions (even if they shift) and always embrace change. Every time I listen to her music, I am reminded that pursuing your goals with confidence, ambition, and heart is worth the risk.

This story begins and ends with a yellow journal. The one I kept as a child became my safe space, where I could question the world around me without judgment. Growing up in a Caribbean-Asian, multi-generational household in New York City, I was immersed in diversity from an early age. However, coming from a low-income, multi-heritage background, I found it difficult to define my identity. Driven by curiosity, I turned to my immigrant elders for their guidance. Their stories of resilience and determination to build better lives moved me. My journal became more than a place for questions; it evolved into a tool for recording and preserving my family history. In high school, my passion for storytelling grew alongside my commitment to community service. I volunteered with Green Guerrillas, a nonprofit dedicated to tackle urban decay through community gardens. While working with the locals to transform abandoned lots into green spaces, I was inspired by their resilience and hope. In my journal, I reflected on the absence of these stories in the media and became determined to improve multi-cultural representation. As a result of my service with Green Guerrillas, I was honored with a Youth Fellowship Award. During college, I channeled my passion for creative writing into tutoring low-income students in language arts. Their untapped potential mirrored my own struggles growing up, and I was honored to help unlock their voices through writing. Graduating Cum Laude and earning Dean's List recognition further reinforced my belief in the power of education. My recent experiences in the production industry have shown me the influence media can have on society. This awareness inspired me to pursue journalism, where I can use both storytelling and the media as instruments for social change. Therefore, I’ve enrolled in a master’s program at Fordham University to enhance my training and skills. Receiving this scholarship would provide invaluable financial support and allow me to fully dedicate myself to my studies this fall. Through my community service, I’ve seen firsthand how uplifting others can create lasting change in their lives. I am confident that this scholarship will play a similar role in shaping my education and helping me reach my goals. My goal as an aspiring journalist is to bridge the divide in our country by producing impactful stories that spark meaningful conversations, challenge perspectives and foster a more informed and compassionate society. Ultimately, I am committed to shaping a media landscape that authentically reflects the diversity of the human experience. As a first-generation student, I’ve had the opportunity to redefine success for my family. When I shared the news of my graduate school acceptance, my mother gave me a gift: a brand-new yellow journal. It was a reminder of my roots in storytelling and that my future is a blank page waiting to be filled.