When I first volunteered at my local women and children's shelter, I noticed the aimlessness of that hour. During their free time, most of the preteens were either running after the younger ones or just sitting around, looking bored. I knew that I needed to come up with something that the kids could engross themselves in. The first thing that came to my mind was art. Art has been, for me, a form of escape when I needed it most. At a time when I had begun to see the intensity of my emotions as a liability, art showed me that my emotions had the potential to channel something beautiful. Painting with acrylics gave me freedom of motion and color. Inexpensive as my paints had been, I could still step back and recognize all that had been poured into my work. The ideas that had been swirling around my head were given an outlet. But, beyond that, art gave me the confidence to express myself. I believed art would allow the kids to develop their self-awareness and improve their social-emotional learning. So, I gathered a group of similarly passionate classmates and organized monthly art lessons. Not only did the lessons teach the kids new techniques, they also encouraged self-reflection. One activity involved collaging emotion monsters to express how they are feeling in an engaging, safe way. They also used watercolor and oil pastel resist techniques to color overlapping hearts, each of which expressed something they loved. One of the younger kids insisted she was bad at art, and kept asking me to draw for her. So, I put my hand over hers and let her guide the oil pastel she was holding. In the end, her art piece was wholly and unequivocally hers. I simply lent her the confidence she needed to complete it. At the next activity, she was similarly struggling to draw a self-portrait. This time, I encouraged her to draw it all on her own, and she ended up doing just that. I am proud to be the one to provide that small boost, eliminate her anxiety, and see the bright smile on her face as she held up her artwork for a photo. My time here showed me the power of art. The children were comfortable expressing their feelings and thoughts in a safe, non-judgmental environment. Watching them immerse themselves through art, something that I myself have found therapeutic, was an unforgettable experience. After I achieve an art degree, my long-term plans are now to illustrate/write children’s books, teach art, and become an art therapist. Art is such a small thing, but the more I see how powerful it can be, the more I've come to realize that I want to delve even deeper into what it can do for people. I believe strongly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to, and I want nothing more than to be able to provide that.

When I first volunteered at my local women and children's shelter, I noticed the aimlessness of that hour. During their free time, most of the preteens were either running after the younger ones or just sitting around, looking bored. I knew that I needed to come up with something that the kids could engross themselves in. The first thing that came to my mind was art. Art has been, for me, a form of escape when I needed it most. I believed it would allow the kids to develop their self-awareness and improve their social-emotional learning. But most importantly, it would provide them a safe space to express themselves. So, I gathered a group of similarly passionate classmates and organized monthly art lessons. Not only did the lessons teach the kids new techniques, they also encouraged self-reflection. One activity involved collaging emotion monsters to express how they are feeling in an engaging, safe way. They also used watercolor and oil pastel resist techniques to color overlapping hearts, each of which expressed something they loved. One of the younger kids insisted she was bad at art, and kept asking me to draw for her. So, I put my hand over hers and let her guide the oil pastel she was holding. In the end, her art piece was wholly and unequivocally hers. I simply lent her the confidence she needed to complete it. At the next activity, she was similarly struggling to draw a self-portrait. This time, I encouraged her to draw it all on her own, and she ended up doing just that. I am proud to be the one to provide that small boost, eliminate her anxiety, and see the bright smile on her face as she held up her artwork for a photo. My time here showed me the power of art. The children were comfortable expressing their feelings and thoughts in a safe, non-judgmental environment. Watching them immerse themselves through art, something that I myself have found therapeutic, was an unforgettable experience. After I achieve an art degree, my long-term plans are now to illustrate/write children’s books, teach art, and become an art therapist. Art is such a small thing, but the more I see how powerful it can be, the more I've come to realize that I want to delve even deeper into what it can do for people. I believe strongly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to, and I want nothing more than to be able to provide that.

When I first volunteered to babysit at my local women and children's shelter, I noticed the aimlessness of that hour. During their free time, most of the preteens were sitting around, looking bored. I knew I needed to come up with something that the kids could engross themselves in. The first thing that came to my mind was art. I believed it would allow the kids to develop their self-awareness and improve their social-emotional learning. But most importantly, it would provide them a safe space to express themselves. So, I gathered a group of similarly passionate classmates and organized monthly art lessons. Not only did the lessons teach the kids new techniques, they also encouraged self-reflection. One activity involved collaging emotion monsters to express how they are feeling in an engaging, safe way. One of the younger kids insisted she was bad at art, and kept asking me to draw for her. So, I put my hand over hers and let her guide the oil pastel she was holding. In the end, her art piece was wholly and unequivocally hers. I simply lent her the confidence she needed to complete it. At the next activity, she was similarly struggling to draw a self-portrait. This time, I encouraged her to draw it all on her own, and she ended up doing just that. I am proud to be the one to provide that small boost, eliminate her anxiety, and see the bright smile on her face as she held up her artwork for a photo. My time here showed me the power of art. The children were comfortable expressing their feelings and thoughts in a safe, non-judgmental environment. Watching them immerse themselves through art, something that I myself have found therapeutic, was an unforgettable experience. One I hope the kids will carry with them. When I first saw my tennis coach, I was nervous and excited. But then I watched as he showed up to very few practices, provided no constructive feedback, acted without consideration for players' feelings, and continuously ignored our protests. I have my head coach to thank for the leader I am today. Frustrated and upset at how he handled situations, I devoted myself to becoming the leader that freshman me needed. Despite being painfully shy, I made a point of greeting any new players, offering tips, and congratulating them on their improvement. I wanted tennis to be a second family for everyone, so I found ways to make them feel welcomed, connected, and excited to step onto the courts. However, I quickly learned that being a leader does not just mean being welcoming and kind. It also means being willing to stand up for your teammates and give them a voice. One of the girls on my team showed up to a game wearing a long-sleeved version of our uniform, with leggings under her skirt. In front of us, Coach Martin insisted that she wear the regular short skirt and tank top. I noticed how frustrated and upset she was getting, so I spoke up, offering my support to my teammate and explaining to the coach her reasons. After too long of watching our coach make girls cry, lose their love for tennis, and wish to drop out, I ended up speaking to the athletic director, who asked him to step down. Being a leader is a privilege. I am a leader because I care. Despite being conflict-avoidant, I have found it in me to stand up when it matters; for the sake of seeing the smiles on my teammates' faces when they step onto the courts.

I realized my love of creation when I was four years old, gluing six pieces of paper together to write my first fantasy picture "book." Since then, creativity has found a way to worm itself almost unnoticeably into my life. It started off with small actions. Colorful flower arrangements, poetry fragments jotted down in journals, short storyboards, doodles in math notebooks, and finally after years of dreaming, I fell into painting. At a time when I had begun to see the intensity of my emotions as a liability, art showed me that my emotions had the potential to channel something beautiful. Painting with acrylics gave me freedom of motion and color. Inexpensive as my paints had been, I could still step back and recognize all that had been poured into my work. The ideas that had been swirling around my head were given an outlet. But, beyond that, art gave me the confidence to express myself. I never thought my emotions needed to be shared. Something as small as an offhanded remark from my sister, meant to land as a joke, ended with me hiding away to cry quietly. I did not discuss it with her, nor did she learn that I had been upset by her words until much later. She asked me then, why did I not just tell her? When I took up art, I had to directly confront what emotions I wanted to convey in my pieces. I started to take my own feelings seriously, not only with art, but with my loved ones. I became more assertive, more capable of healthily conveying when I was hurt. The next time my sister upset me, I recognized that I was hurt. It was meant with no ill-intentions on her part, but what mattered was that I was upset. And I needed to convey that, instead of trying to push it aside. By speaking up, I established my boundaries, which in turn strengthened my relationship with my sister. Art has helped me not only understand myself, but express myself in a way that helps me connect to others. When I first volunteered at my local women and children's shelter, I noticed the aimlessness of that hour. During their free time, most of the preteens were either running after the younger ones or just sitting around, looking bored. I knew that I needed to come up with something that the kids could engross themselves in. The first thing that came to my mind was art. Art has been, for me, a form of escape when I needed it most. I believed it would allow the kids to develop their self-awareness and improve their social-emotional learning. But most importantly, it would provide them a safe space to express themselves. So, I gathered a group of similarly passionate classmates and organized monthly art lessons. Not only did the lessons teach the kids new techniques, they also encouraged self-reflection. One activity involved collaging emotion monsters to express how they are feeling in an engaging, safe way. They also used watercolor and oil pastel resist techniques to color overlapping hearts, each of which expressed something they loved. One of the younger kids insisted she was bad at art, and kept asking me to draw for her. So, I put my hand over hers and let her guide the oil pastel she was holding. In the end, her art piece was wholly and unequivocally hers. I simply lent her the confidence she needed to complete it. At the next activity, she was similarly struggling to draw a self-portrait. This time, I encouraged her to draw it all on her own, and she ended up doing just that. I am proud to be the one to provide that small boost, eliminate her anxiety, and see the bright smile on her face as she held up her artwork for a photo. My time here showed me the power of art. The children were comfortable expressing their feelings and thoughts in a safe, non-judgmental environment. Watching them immerse themselves through art, something that I myself have found therapeutic, was an unforgettable experience. My long-term plans are now to illustrate/write children’s books, teach art, and become an art therapist. Art is such a small thing, but the more I see how powerful it can be, the more I've come to realize that I want to delve even deeper into what it can do for people. I believe strongly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to, and I want nothing more than to be able to provide that.

I have become a person my grandmother would not be proud of. My earliest memories of my grandmother include me crying. For the first fifteen years of my life, every month constituted a trip to my grandmother's house. Those fifteen years, I learned that to want, to feel, to cry, to step outside of the box my grandmother had shaped for me, was to be a horrible child. I learned that approval from my grandmother meant everything. When failure is punished by harsh disapproval, you begin to fear it. I spent three years at high school focusing on what I was good at: good grades and test scores. All while I neglected my true passion, the academic subject that frightened me as much as it intrigued me. Art. My ingrained fear of failure, of ending up with unsatisfactory pieces, dissuaded me from even trying. In my advanced art class, while working on my first big piece, my art teacher pulled me aside after school, having noticed my fear of creating "bad art." She showed me her own art pieces from her senior year of high school, and then her current work. The difference in quality was astonishing. Ms. Farnsworth proceeded to tell me that where you start doesn't matter. What matters is the dedication to continue creating, to overcome fear and embrace learning through mistakes. Creating bad art is an essential stepping-stone in any art career. I lived through this dichotomy for a year, learning to make mistakes through art, while simultaneously avoiding mistakes around my grandmother. It wasn't until I sat face-to-face with her, cautiously opened up about feeling this way, confronted her abusive behavior towards my family members, and watched her grow more angry and stubborn, that I realized I was playing a game I could never win. When I cut my grandmother off, I also cut off the lingering insecurities, pressures, and fears of failing what I love. Despite the hurt, it was a slow step outside of that box she had pushed me into. The box that I am still learning to grow out of today. FAFSA has presented me with a -1500 SAI. I am certain that, without enough scholarship support, I will not be able to leave my home to attend a university. All assistance is greatly appreciated, and I would definitely not squander my college experience. I would love to be able to do research, to work hands-on under and amongst other artists, and to establish independence for myself. To reach out and fully grasp the dreams I have harbored since I was young. This scholarship would take me one step further towards these dreams of mine, one step further towards the life I want to live, the impact I want to make, and the goals I hope to achieve. I am a hard-worker, and will fully throw myself into whatever tasks I have ahead of me. It is with this scholarship that I will be able to do so.

When I first volunteered at my local women and children's shelter, I noticed the aimlessness of that hour. During their free time, most of the preteens were either running after the younger ones or just sitting around, looking bored. I knew that I needed to come up with something that the kids could engross themselves in. The first thing that came to my mind was art. Art has been, for me, a form of escape when I needed it most. I believed it would allow the kids to develop their self-awareness and improve their social-emotional learning. But most importantly, it would provide them a safe space to express themselves. So, I gathered a group of similarly passionate classmates and organized monthly art lessons. Not only did the lessons teach the kids new techniques, they also encouraged self-reflection. One activity involved collaging emotion monsters to express how they are feeling in an engaging, safe way. They also used watercolor and oil pastel resist techniques to color overlapping hearts, each of which expressed something they loved. One of the younger kids insisted she was bad at art, and kept asking me to draw for her. So, I put my hand over hers and let her guide the oil pastel she was holding. In the end, her art piece was wholly and unequivocally hers. I simply lent her the confidence she needed to complete it. At the next activity, she was similarly struggling to draw a self-portrait. This time, I encouraged her to draw it all on her own, and she ended up doing just that. I am proud to be the one to provide that small boost, eliminate her anxiety, and see the bright smile on her face as she held up her artwork for a photo. My time here showed me the power of art. The children were comfortable expressing their feelings and thoughts in a safe, non-judgmental environment. Watching them immerse themselves through art, something that I myself have found therapeutic, was an unforgettable experience. Now, my long-term plans are to illustrate/write children’s books, teach art, and become an art therapist. My short-term plans are to enroll in a university as an art major. Art is such a small thing, but the more I see how powerful it can be, the more I've come to realize that I want to delve even deeper into what it can do for people. I believe strongly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to, and I want nothing more than to be able to provide that.

When I first saw my tennis coach, I was nervous and excited. But then I watched as he showed up to very few practices, provided no constructive feedback, acted without consideration for players' feelings, and continuously ignored our protests. I have my head coach to thank for the leader I am today. Frustrated and upset at how he handled situations, I devoted myself to becoming the leader that freshman me needed. Despite being painfully shy, I made a point of greeting any new players, offering tips, and congratulating them on their improvement. I wanted tennis to be a second family for everyone, so I found ways to make them feel welcomed, connected, and excited to step onto the courts. However, I quickly learned that being a leader does not just mean being welcoming and kind. It also means being willing to stand up for your teammates and give them a voice. One of the girls on my team approached me, bringing up the anxiety and frustration she felt whenever our coach yelled out to her midgame. Despite my initial fear of conflict, when I noticed him doing exactly that in a later game, I approached him. Through my nerves, I managed to calmly explain to him the negative effects it had on her, convincing him that his attempts at advice were doing more harm than good. He left her alone, and she ended up winning her match. Another time, a girl showed up to a game wearing a long-sleeved version of our uniform, with leggings under her skirt. In front of us, Coach Martin insisted that she wear the regular short skirt and tank top. I noticed how frustrated and upset she was getting, so I spoke up, offering my support to my teammate and explaining to the coach her reasons. Being a leader is a privilege. I am a leader because I care. Despite being conflict-avoidant, I have found it in me to stand up when it matters; for the sake of seeing the smiles on my teammates' faces when they step onto the courts. I ended up speaking out about my coach to the athletic director, and he has been asked to step down. I am relieved to have played a part in ending the cycle of watching girls slowly lose their love for tennis. I have seen many girls pushed to tears, many girls quitting or wishing to quit, and many girls who have been quietly walked over. This process, frustrating as it has been, has taught me the importance of fighting for those I love, of learning when to back down and when to push through. I step forward into my future knowing that I am capable of standing up for what I believe in.

When I was younger, I used to have nightmares of my dad killing himself. My dad has struggled with severe chronic depression from the age of fourteen. He has also struggled with anxiety, PTSD, persistent insomnia, and many, many physical injuries that result from a lack of self-care, placing him in constant pain. He has flipped between various forms of self-medication. Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without feeling able to help. It terrified me. It still does to this day. My personal career aspiration is to write books and create pieces of art that speak to the mental struggles of all. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two of my teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Hearing about struggle and witnessing it hands-on are two very different things, and my personal experience with it has definitely shaped the way I view the world. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at my local women and children's shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. It takes a lot of preparation, including finding an activity, obtaining supplies, and reaching out to other high schoolers to help me guide them through this activity. Art provides the kids with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week, feeling so guilty when they ask when the next art session will be. Finding money for an art or English major has always felt stupid and pointless. I hear constantly how anyone with those majors always ends up broke, in debt, and chasing flimsy pipe dreams. I'd never thought any of these passions of mine would be a solid major for me, more of a hobby. Until I realized how important they are. My future dreams have become fully centered around art therapy and publication of works on mental health. I believe wholeheartedly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to. And I would love to do just that. Consistent financial stress has weighed heavily on my dad, as he struggles to find a way to pay for our colleges. He has always pushed us to pursue what we love, rather than go for intensive or unappealing careers, as he did, that worsened his mental state. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in guiding me as I strive towards a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day.

When I was younger, I used to have nightmares of my dad killing himself. Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without feeling able to help. It terrified me. It still does to this day. My personal career aspiration is to write books and create pieces of art that speak to the mental struggles of all. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two of my teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Hearing about struggle and witnessing it hands-on are two very different things, and my personal experience with it has definitely shaped the way I view the world. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at my local women and children's shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. It takes a lot of preparation, including finding an activity, obtaining supplies, and reaching out to other high schoolers to help me guide them through this activity. Art provides the kids with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week, feeling so guilty when they ask when the next art session will be. I only hope that my efforts of introducing art into the lives of these children have had as much of an effect as I believe. One of the girls in particular, a quiet one who I will not name, has expressed how she has always loved art. I want to be able to show her the future she could build with it, to show her just how art could touch and heal the soul, as I feel it has done for me. Finding money for an art or English major has always felt stupid and pointless. I hear constantly how anyone with those majors always ends up broke, in debt, and chasing flimsy pipe dreams. I'd never thought any of these passions of mine would be a solid major for me, more of a hobby. Until I realized how important they are. My future dreams have become fully centered around art therapy and publication of works on mental health. I believe wholeheartedly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to. And I would love to do just that. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in guiding me as I strive towards a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day.

When I was younger, I used to have nightmares of my dad killing himself. Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without feeling able to help. It terrified me. It still does to this day. My personal career aspiration is to write books and create pieces of art that speak to the mental struggles of all. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two of my teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Hearing about struggle and witnessing it hands-on are two very different things, and my personal experience with it has definitely shaped the way I view the world. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at my local women and children's shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. It takes a lot of preparation, including finding an activity, obtaining supplies, and reaching out to other high schoolers to help me guide them through this activity. Art provides the kids with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week, feeling so guilty when they ask when the next art session will be. I only hope that my efforts of introducing art into the lives of these children have had as much of an effect as I believe. One of the girls in particular, a quiet one who I will not name, has expressed how she has always loved art. I want to be able to show her the future she could build with it, to show her just how art could touch and heal the soul, as I feel it has done for me. Finding money for an art or English major has always felt stupid and pointless. I hear constantly how anyone with those majors always ends up broke, in debt, and chasing flimsy pipe dreams. I'd never thought any of these passions of mine would be a solid major for me, more of a hobby. Until I realized how important they are. My future dreams have become fully centered around art therapy and publication of works on mental health. I believe wholeheartedly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to. And I would love to do just that. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in guiding me as I strive towards a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day.

When I was younger, I used to have nightmares of my dad killing himself. My dad has struggled with severe chronic depression from the age of fourteen. He has also struggled with anxiety, PTSD, persistent insomnia, and many, many physical injuries that result from a lack of self-care, placing him in constant pain. He has flipped between various forms of self-medication. Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without feeling able to help. It terrified me. It still does to this day. My personal career aspiration is to write books and create pieces of art that speak to the mental struggles of all. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two of my teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Hearing about struggle and witnessing it hands-on are two very different things, and my personal experience with it has definitely shaped the way I view the world. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at my local women and children's shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Art provides the kids with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week, feeling so guilty when they ask when the next art session will be. Finding money for an art or English major has always felt stupid and pointless. I hear constantly how anyone with those majors always ends up broke, in debt, and chasing flimsy pipe dreams. I'd never thought any of these passions of mine would be a solid major for me, more of a hobby. Until I realized how important they are. My future dreams have become fully centered around art therapy and publication of works on mental health. I believe wholeheartedly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to. I know this is what I am meant to be doing, as simple as a dream it might be. It might be small, but it is my dream to chase and conquer. Consistent financial stress has weighed heavily on my dad, as he struggles to find a way to pay for our colleges. He has always pushed us to pursue what we love, rather than go for intensive or unappealing careers, as he did, that worsened his mental state. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in aiding my struggles for a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day, one art piece at a time.

When I was younger, I used to have nightmares of my dad killing himself. Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without feeling able to help. It terrified me. It still does to this day. My personal career aspiration is to write books and create pieces of art that speak to the mental struggles of all. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two of my teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Hearing about struggle and witnessing it hands-on are two very different things, and my personal experience with it has definitely shaped the way I view the world. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at my local women and children's shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. It takes a lot of preparation, including finding an activity, obtaining supplies, and reaching out to other high schoolers to help me guide them through this activity. Art provides the kids with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week, feeling so guilty when they ask when the next art session will be. I only hope that my efforts of introducing art into the lives of these children have had as much of an effect as I believe. One of the girls in particular, a quiet one who I will not name, has expressed how she has always loved art. I want to be able to show her the future she could build with it, to show her just how art could touch and heal the soul, as I feel it has done for me. Finding money for an art or English major has always felt stupid and pointless. I hear constantly how anyone with those majors always ends up broke, in debt, and chasing flimsy pipe dreams. I'd never thought any of these passions of mine would be a solid major for me, more of a hobby. Until I realized how important they are. My future dreams have become fully centered around art therapy and publication of works on mental health. I believe wholeheartedly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to. And I would love to do just that. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in guiding me as I strive towards a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day.

When I was younger, I used to have nightmares of my dad killing himself. My dad has struggled with severe chronic depression from the age of fourteen. He has also struggled with anxiety, PTSD, persistent insomnia, and many, many physical injuries that result from a lack of self-care, placing him in constant pain. He has flipped between various forms of self-medication. Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without feeling able to help. It terrified me. It still does to this day. My personal career aspiration is to write books and create pieces of art that speak to the mental struggles of all. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two of my teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Hearing about struggle and witnessing it hands-on are two very different things, and my personal experience with it has definitely shaped the way I view the world. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at my local women and children's shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. It takes a lot of preparation, including finding an activity, obtaining supplies, and reaching out to other high schoolers to help me guide them through this activity. Art provides the kids with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week, feeling so guilty when they ask when the next art session will be. Finding money for an art or English major has always felt stupid and pointless. I hear constantly how anyone with those majors always ends up broke, in debt, and chasing flimsy pipe dreams. I'd never thought any of these passions of mine would be a solid major for me, more of a hobby. Until I realized how important they are. My future dreams have become fully centered around art therapy and publication of works on mental health. I believe wholeheartedly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to. And I would love to do just that. Consistent financial stress has weighed heavily on my dad, as he struggles to find a way to pay for our colleges. He has always pushed us to pursue what we love, rather than go for intensive or unappealing careers, as he did, that worsened his mental state. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in guiding me as I strive towards a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day.

When I was younger, I used to have nightmares of my dad killing himself. My dad has struggled with severe chronic depression from the age of fourteen. He has also struggled with anxiety, PTSD, persistent insomnia, and many, many physical injuries that result from a lack of self-care, placing him in constant pain. He has flipped between various forms of self-medication. Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without feeling able to help. It terrified me. It still does to this day. My personal career aspiration is to write books and create pieces of art that speak to the mental struggles of all. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two of my teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Hearing about struggle and witnessing it hands-on are two very different things, and my personal experience with it has definitely shaped the way I view the world. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at my local women and children's shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. It takes a lot of preparation, including finding an activity, obtaining supplies, and reaching out to other high schoolers to help me guide them through this activity. Art provides the kids with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week, feeling so guilty when they ask when the next art session will be. Finding money for an art or English major has always felt stupid and pointless. I hear constantly how anyone with those majors always ends up broke, in debt, and chasing flimsy pipe dreams. I'd never thought any of these passions of mine would be a solid major for me, more of a hobby. Until I realized how important they are. My future dreams have become fully centered around art therapy and publication of works on mental health. I believe wholeheartedly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to. And I would love to do just that. Consistent financial stress has weighed heavily on my dad, as he struggles to find a way to pay for our colleges. He has always pushed us to pursue what we love, rather than go for intensive or unappealing careers, as he did, that worsened his mental state. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in guiding me as I strive towards a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day.

Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without being able to help. It terrified me. It still does. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands-on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at that shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. It takes a lot of preparation, including finding an activity, obtaining supplies, and reaching out to other high schoolers to help me guide them through this activity. Art provides the kids with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week, feeling so guilty whenever they ask when the next art session will be. My dream for my future has become fully centered around art therapy and publication of works on mental health. I believe strongly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to, and I want nothing more than to be able to do that. Consistent financial stress has weighed heavily on my dad, as he struggles to find a way to pay for our colleges. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in guiding me as I strive towards a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day.

When I was younger, I used to have nightmares of my dad killing himself. My dad has struggled with severe chronic depression from the age of fourteen. He has also struggled with anxiety, PTSD, persistent insomnia, and many, many physical injuries that result from a lack of self-care, placing him in constant pain. He has flipped between various forms of self-medication. Mental health is such a complex issue, a battle that so many face, so many fight against, and so many lose to. It is a fight I have always felt powerless against, watching my dad struggle with it day after day without feeling able to help. It terrified me. It still does to this day. My personal career aspiration is to write books and create pieces of art that speak to the mental struggles of all. I believe that strong mental health starts with children. In my freshman year, I worked with two of my teachers to introduce the idea of and organize a mass card donation via our art classes to a nearby children's hospital. Things only grew from there. I've also worked to volunteer at programs like Give Every Child a Chance, Book Buddies, Reach Out and Read, and Hope Women and Children's shelter to work hands on with children who might be struggling, either in their school or home lives. Hearing about struggle and witnessing it hands-on are two very different things, and my personal experience with it has definitely shaped the way I view the world. Recently, I've started up a passion project of mine. I've been volunteering at my local women and children's shelter, prepping, organizing, and setting up art activities to do with the children there. Due to educational and extracurricular stress, I've only been able to go monthly. It takes a lot of preparation, including finding an activity, obtaining supplies, and reaching out to other high schoolers to help me guide them through this activity. Every time I get to see how they get lost in the artwork, concentrating on pushing paint over paper, I can't help but wish I could make time for them every week. Art provides them with the space to escape from whatever they may be struggling through, to express their emotions. This experience has led me to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could introduce my dad to the beauty of art. Even when I was younger, I'd dreamed of finding the “cure” that would make his depression vanish. Now that I am older, I know how unlikely this may be. But I also know that the least I can do for him is try. I'm currently on the path to researching art activities to do with him. Art is such a small thing, but the more I see how powerful it can be, the more I've come to realize that I want to delve even deeper into what it can do for those I love and care for. Finding money for an art or English major has always felt stupid and pointless. I hear constantly how anyone with those majors always ends up broke, in debt, and chasing flimsy pipe dreams. I'd never thought any of these passions of mine would be a solid major for me, more of a hobby. Until I realized how important they are. I'm learning to chase my happiness, to push back feelings of guilt and stress to realize what makes me feel fulfilled. My future dream has become centered around art therapy and publication, and I know this is the path for me to take. I believe even more strongly in the power of expression from a young age, a healing power that more children need to be exposed to, and I want nothing more than to be able to do that. Consistent financial stress has weighed heavily on my dad, as he struggles to find a way to pay for our colleges. He has always pushed us to pursue what we love, rather than go for intensive or unappealing careers, as he did, that worsened his mental state. This scholarship would be an unbelievable help in guiding me as I strive towards a better education, and a better future in which I can pursue my dreams of bringing about awareness of struggle. And maybe even finding a way to make a dent in the large mental health crisis we face to this day.

My world was turned upside down when I read the Harry Potter series for the first time. Since then, following me for years and years, I haven't had a moment to myself without the persistent thought echoing through my mind: I want to do that. I got to work, writing three full-length children's stories that I am currently working on refining in the hopes of publication. I submitted many stories, poems, and book ideas to any competition I could find, loss after loss crushing my hopes, but never affecting my love for creation. Until the spring of 2020. The pandemic barreled through my life, leaving a wreckage in its wake. I dragged through the quarantine days in a haze, slowly sinking into the depths of my mind. All dreams of becoming an author abruptly came to a halt. Two years passed, and my writing journal lay stuffed in my closet, gathering dust. I no longer believed that I had anything worth saying. I had grown to hate my mind, no longer trusting it enough to delve deep into my imagination without drowning in it again. I crowded my mind with schoolwork and studying, resolved to never crack open that writing journal again. Until I picked up "Girl in Pieces." This book reached out and touched my heart, despite all the guards I had set up. It stirred up an imagination I thought I had left in the dust. It showed me that even the darkest of thoughts should not be shied away from, but accepted. It showed me the beauty in creating, to which I had become blind. It showed me that I was not alone. This spring, my poem "Indian Lily" was in the top 2% of national submissions in a poetry contest, and was published in the "American High School Poets" - Spring 2024 anthology. When I got the email, all I could do was stare in disbelief, unable to comprehend that my poem, my emotions and thoughts, my message, my small attempt at reaching out and touching the minds of the people like me in this world, were considered valuable. That the judges believed I had something worth saying and sharing. Publication has always been my dream, ever since I was 5 and wrote my first "book". To be able to impact the minds of the diverse people in this world, to write a page, a sentence, a word that makes just one person stop and think. To connect, inspire, fascinate, and nurture. I wish for my pieces to do for others what books have done for me. Now, I am president of the Book Club, publicity officer of the Creative Writing Club, and avid reader of anything and everything I can get my hands on. I continue to write every day, and as I start my junior year of high school, I can assert with confidence that, despite everything that life throws my way, I will never let this dream of mine die.

My world was turned upside down when I read the Harry Potter series for the first time. Since then, following me for years and years, I haven't had a moment to myself without the persistent thought echoing through my mind: I want to do that. I got to work, writing three full-length children's stories that I am currently working on refining in the hopes of publication. I submitted many stories, poems, and book ideas to any competition I could find, loss after loss crushing my hopes, but never affecting my love for creation. Until the spring of 2020. The pandemic barreled through my life, leaving a wreckage in its wake. I dragged through the quarantine days in a haze, slowly sinking into the depths of my mind. All dreams of becoming an author abruptly came to a halt. Two years passed, and my writing journal lay stuffed in my closet, gathering dust. I no longer believed that I had anything worth saying. I had grown to hate my mind, no longer trusting it enough to delve deep into my imagination without drowning in it again. I crowded my mind with schoolwork and studying, resolved to never crack open that writing journal again. Until I picked up "Girl in Pieces." This book reached out and touched my heart, despite all the guards I had set up. It stirred up an imagination I thought I had left in the dust. It showed me that even the darkest of thoughts should not be shied away from, but accepted. It showed me the beauty in creating, to which I had become blind. It showed me that I was not alone. This spring, my poem "Indian Lily" was in the top 2% of national submissions in a poetry contest, and was published in the "American High School Poets" - Spring 2024 anthology. When I got the email, all I could do was stare in disbelief, unable to comprehend that my poem, my emotions and thoughts, my message, my small attempt at reaching out and touching the minds of the people like me in this world, were considered valuable. That the judges believed I had something worth saying and sharing. Publication has always been my dream, ever since I was 5 and wrote my first "book". To be able to impact the minds of the diverse people in this world, to write a page, a sentence, a word that makes just one person stop and think. To connect, inspire, fascinate, and nurture. I wish for my pieces to do for others what books have done for me. Now, I am president of the Book Club, publicity officer of the Creative Writing Club, and avid reader of anything and everything I can get my hands on. I continue to write every day, and as I start my junior year of high school, I can assert with confidence that, despite everything that life throws my way, I will never let this dream of mine die.