My name is Claudia Romero, and honestly, I never thought I'd be writing a scholarship essay in English. When I moved to the United States in the middle of 9th grade, I could barely string together a complete sentence without stumbling over words. That first day of school was terrifying. I walked into classrooms where everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing, while I sat there trying to decode not just the language, but an entirely different way of learning. When I got home that afternoon, my backpack was stuffed with assignments I didn't understand—essays about books I'd never heard of, math problems with instructions I had to translate line by line, worksheets that might as well have been written in code. I remember sitting at our kitchen table that night, surrounded by dictionaries and papers, feeling like I was drowning. My mom brought me some café and sat with me for a while, but honestly, she was just as lost as I was. Neither of my parents had been through American high school, so they'd pat my shoulder and say "tú puedes, mija," but that was about all the help they could give me. So I did the only thing I could think of—I started translating everything, literally word by word. I'm talking about staying up until 2 AM on school nights, getting so frustrated I'd slam my pencil down, and yes, definitely crying over algebra more than once. But somehow, by the end of that first semester, I had straight A's. And I remember thinking, "Wait, I actually did that?" It wasn't because I was some genius—I was just too stubborn to let English beat me. That experience taught me something important about myself—I'm stronger than I think I am, especially when things get really hard. Growing up, our church has been like a second family to me. While neither of my parents serves as a pastor, they are both dedicated leaders on our church's directive board, so I've been surrounded by people who lead with their hearts and show up for their community. I've helped with youth activities, worked with different ministries, and spent a lot of time talking with younger girls who remind me of myself at that age—unsure, trying to find their place, dealing with challenges that feel too big to handle. What I've learned from all of this is that sometimes the smallest things end up mattering the most. Like, there's this one girl, Sofia, who's maybe 14 and was struggling with some mean girls at school. We talked after youth group one night, and I just told her what my mom always told me—that other people's opinions of you don't define who you are. Nothing groundbreaking, right? But she texted me weeks later saying she'd stood up for herself for the first time. Stuff like that reminds me why I want to work with people. That's why I want to become a licensed medical aesthetician. I know it probably sounds random, but hear me out—it's really not about doing facials all day. When I was going through my awkward phase (and trust me, it was bad), I had terrible acne and felt invisible at school. The one time my mom took me to get a facial, the esthetician didn't just work on my skin. She made me feel heard and cared for in a way I wasn't expecting. That's when I realized this field could be about so much more than beauty treatments. My dream is to open a spa that's different from the typical ones you see. I want it to be a place where women—especially women of color, immigrants like me, and anyone who's ever felt invisible—can come and feel restored. Not just their skin, but their sense of self-worth. I want to offer workshops on skincare and confidence, and eventually create a mentorship program for young women interested in beauty and wellness. I also dream of launching my own skincare line someday—products that are safe, affordable, and work for everyone, not just people with perfect skin and unlimited budgets. But what excites me most is the idea of giving back through my work. I want to offer free or discounted services to women who are rebuilding their lives—survivors, immigrants starting over, moms who always put everyone else first. Everyone deserves to feel beautiful and cared for, not just people who can afford luxury treatments. Looking back at everything—the move, learning English while trying to pass chemistry (still not sure how I managed that), staying involved at church—I'm honestly pretty proud of how far I've come. There were definitely moments when I thought I was crazy for dreaming so big. Like, who was I to think I could own my own business someday? But my parents always said that if you're going to dream, you might as well dream big. And my faith has taught me that God doesn't give you dreams just to watch you fail at them. If I receive this scholarship, it won't just help me pay for school—it'll be an investment in all the women I hope to serve through my career. It'll help me build something that gives back to communities like the one that raised me. I want to help people feel confident and seen because I know what it's like to feel overlooked. And I truly believe that with determination, faith, and genuine love for what you do, you can create something meaningful. Thank you for considering my story.

Hi, my name is Claudia, and I’m a high school student working toward my dream of becoming a licensed medical aesthetician. One day, I hope to open my own beauty brand that helps people feel confident in their skin. This scholarship would be a big help for me and my family as I take the next steps in my education and career. I moved to the United States at 14, halfway through the school year. I didn’t know much English at the time, and I still remember coming home from my first day with a huge stack of homework I could barely understand. I felt lost and overwhelmed, but I also knew I had no choice but to figure it out. I stayed up late translating words, watching videos, and teaching myself the lessons on my own. It was one of the hardest times in my life, but it showed me how strong and determined I could be. Coming from a low-income family has taught me how to work hard, stay focused, and not take any opportunity for granted. We’ve had to be creative, find solutions, and make things work with what we have. I’ve carried those lessons with me in school, where I’ve pushed myself to get straight A’s, even when it meant giving up sleep or spending hours trying to understand something on my own. Skincare and beauty became something I looked forward to. It gave me peace during stressful times and helped me feel like myself again. I realized that taking care of yourself—your skin, your mind, your confidence—can change the way you show up in the world. That’s when I knew I wanted to turn this passion into a career. I want to be more than someone who does facials or treatments. I want to understand the science behind skincare and be able to help people feel good about themselves. I also hope to build a brand that represents people like me—young women who didn’t have it easy but worked hard for what they have. I want my future space to feel welcoming, honest, and full of care. Reading about Kalia made me feel really connected to her story. Her kindness, work ethic, and the way she brought joy to others remind me of the kind of person I try to be every day. I try to encourage people, share a smile or laugh when they need it, and give my best in everything I do. Even when life gets tough, I keep going because I know what I’m working toward. This scholarship would mean so much to me. Not only would it help take some of the financial stress off my family, but it would also motivate me to keep going, knowing that someone believes in my journey. I would be proud to carry Kalia’s legacy forward by continuing to work hard, stay kind, and chase my goals with everything I’ve got. Thank you so much for considering me.

When I moved to the U.S. at 14, I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to adjust. I walked into my new school halfway through the year, still trying to learn English, and by the end of that first day, I had a pile of homework I couldn’t even read. I sat at the table that night with a lump in my throat, trying to figure out how I was going to get through the week, let alone the rest of the year. My family isn’t wealthy. We’ve always had to stretch every dollar and find ways to make things work, even when they didn’t add up. But growing up in a low-income household also taught me the value of hard work and creativity. I watched my parents do everything they could to keep us going, and that taught me not to give up even when things felt impossible. That first semester was rough. I spent hours translating assignments and teaching myself concepts I didn’t understand in class. I started staying after school for help, watching videos online, and building study habits from scratch. Slowly, I began to see my grades improve. I went from barely understanding to earning straight A’s. It wasn’t easy, but every test I passed and every project I turned in was proof that I could overcome this. And I didn’t just want to pass. I wanted to excel. Through it all, beauty and skincare became my escape. When everything else felt overwhelming, sitting down to do a DIY face mask or watching skincare videos gave me a sense of peace and control. I realized that beauty isn’t just about looks. It’s about healing, confidence, and care. That’s when I knew I wanted to become a professional medical aesthetician. I don’t just want to work in beauty. I want to understand the science behind it. I want to help people feel better in their skin, whether it’s through acne treatments, laser therapies, or just thoughtful skincare. And one day, I want to launch my own beauty brand, a brand that’s honest, affordable, and rooted in my culture and story. My background has made me determined. I’ve had to work harder to keep up, apply for every opportunity I can find, and stay focused even when I was tired or unsure. But it’s also made me compassionate. I know what it’s like to feel invisible, to be unsure of yourself, and to want something better. That’s why I want my future beauty space to be more than just a clinic. I want it to be a place where people feel seen, supported, and empowered. Everything I’ve been through, from translating homework late at night to learning a new language and culture from scratch, has helped shape who I am. I’m proud of my roots, and I carry my experiences with me in everything I do. They’ve made me resourceful, resilient, and ready to take on the next step of my journey. I believe my story is still being written. Even though the beginning was full of challenges, I know that where I come from will always inspire where I’m going. I’m excited to build a future where I can combine science, creativity, and care to help others feel confident and to show that no matter where you start, you can create something beautiful.

When I was around eight or nine, my cousins and I would make bracelets and sell them on the streets back in the Dominican Republic. We'd sit there with our little blanket spread out, calling to people walking by, hoping they'd buy something. At the time, we were just kids trying to make some money, but looking back, I realize we were actually learning something bigger-that if you have an idea and you're willing to work hard, you can make it happen.Moving to the US when I turned fourteen was honestly one of the hardest things I've been through. Everything was different, and I started feeling really insecure. I'd look at girls on Instagram or at school and think, "I'm so ugly compared to them." I genuinely believed no one would ever love me because of how I looked. Those thoughts really messed with my head and made me depressed.Thank God for my family-they never stopped supporting me. I also made incredible friends who helped me become more social. Slowly, I started realizing I was being way too hard on myself. We're all different, and that's what makes us beautiful. You just have to accept yourself and take care of yourself so you can look and feel bonita.That experience made me understand how much confidence affects everything in your life. When you don't feel good about yourself, it shows up everywhere - how you talk to people, whether you take chances, everything. That's when I realized I wanted to help others who might be going through what I went through. I decided to become a medical aesthetician.But I don't want to do regular beauty treatments. I want to create a place where people come in feeling down and leave feeling like they can take on the world. I want them to know they're the best version of themselves and can accomplish anything. It's not just about looking good - it's about feeling good and knowing you matter.I've always been the person who jumps in when things need to get done. In group projects or events, I'm usually the one making sure everything runs smoothly. I don't just boss people around; I work with everyone to hit our goals. I want to bring that same energy to my business, plus I want to give back by mentoring other people who want to become medical aestheticians. I know how important it is to have someone believe in you when you're building something from nothing. If I can help more people get into this field, I'm multiplying the good I can do. What I went through taught me to really understand what others might be feeling. When you're struggling with how you look, it affects everything - your relationships, your willingness to try new things, what you think you're capable of. Real beauty work isn't just about making someone look better. It's about helping them get their confidence back so they can go after their dreams. From that little girl selling bracelets with her cousins to now, I've always had this drive to make things happen. My own struggles showed me exactly what I want to focus on - building something that changes how people see themselves. I want to create a space where people leave feeling ready to conquer anything, and through mentoring others, help them create their own positive impact too. I used to be that girl who thought she wasn't pretty enough. Now I know everyone deserves to feel confident and valued, and I'm ready to spend my career making sure no one has to go through those struggles alone.

Service and leadership weren't things I planned on caring about, but somehow they've become huge parts of who I am. Through church and NJROTC, I've discovered that I actually love bringing people together and making sure nobody gets left behind. At church, I'm on the decoration team, which sounds simple but has led to so much more. During events, I work with kids and teenagers constantly, and honestly? Kids can be brutal to each other. I'll be setting up chairs and see some kid getting completely excluded from a game or made fun of for whatever reason. I can't just ignore it. I'll go over and ask what's happening, and usually the kids doing the excluding get defensive. But if you actually sit down with them and explain why being left out sucks - really explain it, not just lecture them - most of them get it. It's taught me that stopping bullying isn't about telling people to be nice. You have to help them understand why it matters. NJROTC has been totally different but equally important. As Command Fitness Leader, I'm in charge of a lot, and people actually listen to me (most of the time). I've done recruitment visits, helped run open houses, marched in parades - the whole deal. What I love is when something goes wrong and I have to figure it out on the spot while keeping everyone safe. It's stressful but also kind of addictive? NJROTC has made me more disciplined and shown me what real teamwork looks like. Cyberbullying seriously bothers me. I know kids who've been destroyed by online harassment - like, completely destroyed. Some have talked about suicide because of stuff that happened online. That's not okay. We can't just tell kids "be nice on the internet" and call it a day. We need to actually teach them how to be decent humans online and make sure they know who to talk to when things get bad. Because they will get bad for some kids, and when that happens, they need to know they're not alone. Here's something I don't like talking about - money is really tight in my family. My parents make less than $30,000 a year, and college costs are terrifying. Sometimes I look at tuition numbers and want to give up before I even start. But then I think about what I want to do with my life, and giving up feels worse than being scared about money. Scholarships like this are literally the only way I'm making college happen. I don't have my whole life figured out yet, and anyone who says they do at my age is probably lying. But I know I want to keep doing this thing where I help people feel included and safe. Whether that's teaching, government work, or something I haven't thought of yet, I don't know. What I do know is that church and NJROTC have taught me how to bring people together, solve messy problems, and create spaces where people don't have to worry about being picked on. This scholarship isn't just about money for me, even though the money would obviously change everything. It's about getting the chance to keep growing and learning how to make a real difference. My experiences have taught me that change happens when you actually listen to people and when you work to make sure everyone has a place where they belong. That's what I want to keep doing - helping people. I'm ready to take all of this with me to college and see where it leads.