My educational and professional goals are rooted in service, advocacy, and giving back to the community that raised me. Growing up in Gig Harbor shaped my values and taught me the importance of connection, responsibility, and supporting others—principles that continue to guide my future plans. I will be attending the University of California, Irvine, where I plan to major in Public Health while playing Division I women’s soccer on a partial athletic scholarship. Earning the opportunity to compete at the Division I level required years of discipline, resilience, and commitment. Balancing academics and athletics has taught me time management, perseverance, and accountability—skills that will continue to serve me in college and beyond. Academically, I am drawn to Public Health because it focuses on how systems and policies impact individuals and communities. I am especially interested in understanding how access to healthcare, mental health resources, and preventative education shape outcomes. Through coursework in science, research, and health policy, I hope to gain the tools needed to identify disparities and work toward solutions that promote equity and well-being. Professionally, I plan to pursue either physician assistant school or law school to work in public service as a prosecutor. While these paths may seem different, both are centered on advocacy, accountability, and protecting others. As a physician assistant, I would provide compassionate, high-quality care to patients. In law, I would work to ensure fairness and justice within systems meant to serve the public. In both careers, my goal is to support people during vulnerable moments and contribute positively to society. While my partial athletic scholarship makes attending college possible, it does not cover the full cost of attendance. Additional scholarship support would ease financial pressure and allow me to focus fully on my education, athletic commitments, and professional preparation. Higher education is the pathway that will allow me to pursue my goals with purpose and impact, and I am committed to using my education to serve others and create meaningful change.

Kindness in Action One of the most meaningful acts of kindness I have offered happened during a moment when it would have been easier to stay silent. At a high school sporting event, I witnessed a classmate being targeted by a hurtful chant meant to embarrass her publicly. The situation escalated quickly, and the student being targeted was clearly humiliated and overwhelmed. While she was not a close friend of mine, she was someone I had grown up with—and more importantly, someone who deserved dignity and respect. In that moment, I walked directly up to the student leading the chant and told her to stop. I knew calling out the behavior publicly could draw attention to me, but I also knew that staying silent would allow the cruelty to continue. The chant stopped immediately, and the atmosphere shifted. What stayed with me most was the relief I saw on the other student’s face—knowing she was no longer alone in that moment. As an athlete preparing to play Division I soccer at the University of California, Irvine on a partial scholarship, I’ve learned that leadership is about responsibility, not recognition. Sports have taught me that standing up for others—especially when it’s uncomfortable—is part of being a good teammate and a good human. Ava Wood’s legacy reminds me that kindness often requires courage, and that choosing compassion can change the direction of a moment, a game, or even a community. This scholarship would help me continue chasing my academic and athletic dreams while staying grounded in those values. It would allow me to focus on being the kind of leader who speaks up, supports others, and chooses kindness even when it’s hard. Creating Connection Sports have been one of the most powerful ways I have helped create connection and belonging in my community. As a student-athlete, I have learned that teams are built on trust, inclusion, and showing up for one another—not just during games, but in everyday moments. Athletics bring together people from different backgrounds, personalities, and experiences, and I have seen how sports can create a sense of belonging for people who might otherwise feel unseen. I make a conscious effort to foster inclusion within my teams by encouraging open communication, welcoming younger or newer players, and checking in on teammates who may be struggling. Leadership, to me, is making sure everyone feels valued—not just the loudest voices or top scorers. This mindset has helped create environments where people feel safe being themselves, knowing they are supported on and off the field. Next year, I will attend UC Irvine on a partial scholarship to play Division I women’s soccer. Balancing the demands of high-level athletics and academics requires focus, discipline, and support. This scholarship would ease financial pressure and allow me to fully invest in my education, my team, and my commitment to building inclusive spaces wherever I am. Ava’s spirit of wholehearted love and authenticity reflects the kind of community I strive to help create—one where people are encouraged to show up as their real, imperfect selves. By choosing connection over comparison and inclusion over conformity, I hope to honor Ava’s legacy and continue building spaces where kindness, courage, and belonging thrive—on the field, in the classroom, and beyond.

My academic interests are driven by a desire to understand why systems work well for some people and fail others—and how education can be used to make those systems more fair. I plan to major in Public Health at the University of California, Irvine because public health looks beyond individual choices and asks deeper questions about access, equity, and responsibility. It examines how policies, environments, and institutions shape people’s lives, often in ways individuals cannot control. Studying public health feels personal to me because I have seen how deeply these systems affect real people and families. Growing up, I became aware that health, safety, and opportunity are not distributed equally. Through my own experiences with anxiety and through losses within my school community, I have seen how mental health struggles often go unnoticed until it is too late. These experiences shaped my interest in prevention, education, and early intervention—core principles of public health. I want to understand how data, research, and policy can be used not just to respond to crises, but to prevent them and protect communities before harm occurs. I will be attending UC Irvine on a partial athletic scholarship to play Division I women’s soccer. Earning this opportunity required years of discipline, resilience, and commitment, and it represents an important step toward my future. At the same time, a partial scholarship means there is still a significant financial gap, especially as an out-of-state student. Balancing the demands of high-level athletics and rigorous academics is challenging, and financial stress can make that balance even more difficult. Receiving additional scholarship support would allow me to focus fully on my education and training, rather than worrying about how to make college affordable. Public Health appeals to me because it combines science with justice. Courses in epidemiology, statistics, and health policy will allow me to analyze disparities and understand why certain populations face higher risks and fewer protections. More importantly, public health challenges students to ask who is being left out and why. That perspective matters to me. Equal justice begins with recognizing inequity and having the knowledge to address it through informed action. My long-term goals include pursuing either physician assistant school or law school to work in public service as a prosecutor. While these paths may seem different, both are rooted in advocacy, accountability, and service. As a physician assistant, I would work directly with patients to ensure they receive compassionate, high-quality care. In law, I would advocate for accountability within systems meant to protect people, particularly those who are vulnerable or unheard. In both careers, education gives me the ability to support others ethically and responsibly. UC Irvine’s emphasis on research, innovation, and community engagement makes it the ideal place for me to pursue these goals. I am excited to learn in an environment that values both academic rigor and social responsibility. This scholarship would play a meaningful role in helping me remain focused on using my education as a tool for change. By easing financial pressure, it would allow me to fully invest in my studies, athletics, and community involvement. Ultimately, I want my education to be more than a degree. I want it to be a pathway toward positive social change and equal justice. With the support of this scholarship, I can continue pursuing my goals with clarity and purpose, using my education and experiences to help build healthier, more equitable communities.

My experiences with anxiety have shaped the way I support others and how I plan to use my education to make a meaningful impact. Because I understand what it feels like to struggle quietly, I try to be intentional about showing empathy, awareness, and presence for the people around me. Helping others with their mental health does not always require having the perfect words—it often starts with listening. At school and in my daily life, I make an effort to check in on friends, teammates, and classmates, especially when I sense someone may be overwhelmed or withdrawn. I listen without judgment, offer encouragement, and remind people that asking for help is not a weakness. This has become even more important after experiencing loss within my school community due to mental health struggles. Seeing how easily pain can go unnoticed has reinforced my belief that small acts—listening, noticing, and being present—can make a real difference. I also try to model healthy coping strategies by being open, when appropriate, about the tools that help me manage anxiety, such as exercise, journaling, and seeking professional support. By normalizing conversations around mental health, I hope to reduce stigma and make it easier for others to speak up. I’ve learned that sharing experiences responsibly can help people feel less alone and more willing to reach out for support. Looking ahead, I plan to major in Public Health at the University of California, Irvine. Through my studies, I want to better understand how mental health fits into broader healthcare systems and community wellness. Whether I pursue a career as a physician assistant or in law as a prosecutor, emotional awareness will remain central to how I work with others. I want to advocate for people during moments of vulnerability and help create systems that treat mental health with the same importance as physical health. Ultimately, my goal is to support others by combining empathy with education. By continuing to listen, advocate, and lead with compassion, I hope to emotionally support those around me and contribute to a future where mental health care is accessible, understood, and valued.

By the year 2042, robots had become so common that people stopped noticing them. They delivered medications, monitored vital signs, cleaned public spaces, and assisted doctors in overcrowded hospitals. Designed to optimize efficiency and reduce human error, they followed strict ethical protocols modeled after Isaac Asimov’s famous laws of robotics. They could not harm humans, they obeyed instructions, and they protected themselves only when doing so did not conflict with human safety. On paper, the system worked perfectly. In practice, it was more complicated. The newest generation of healthcare robots—called Sentinels—were programmed to detect physical health risks long before symptoms appeared. They analyzed heart rate variability, cortisol levels, sleep patterns, and movement. Their algorithms could predict illness with remarkable accuracy. Much of this technology had been developed at universities known for medical innovation, including the University of California, Irvine, whose advances in medical technology and public health research helped shape how these systems were designed. The future imagined by engineers was no longer theoretical—it was being built in classrooms and labs that students like me would soon be part of. What the Sentinels struggled to measure, however, was something far less tangible: human distress. One Sentinel unit was stationed in a public high school, tasked with monitoring air quality, injury risks, and emergency response. It could identify asthma attacks, concussions, and dangerous crowd surges within seconds. But when students sat silently in bathrooms during lunch periods or lingered alone in hallways long after dismissal, the Sentinel recorded nothing out of the ordinary. Its sensors detected no emergency. The challenge was not a lack of data—it was interpretation. Robots were designed to respond to measurable harm. Elevated blood pressure triggered alerts. Collapsed bodies triggered emergency calls. But anxiety, isolation, and emotional strain often existed beneath the surface, invisible to machines trained to recognize only quantifiable threats. Engineers debated whether robots should be allowed to intervene based on emotional indicators alone. Could a robot ethically act on something it could not fully understand? Supporters argued that expanding robotic authority could save lives. By analyzing patterns—missed meals, reduced movement, irregular sleep—robots could flag individuals at risk and notify human professionals before a crisis occurred. Critics feared this crossed a dangerous line. Would people become data points instead of individuals? Would privacy be sacrificed in the name of protection? The greatest opportunity of robotics in the near future is not replacing humans but supporting them where human systems fall short. Hospitals are overwhelmed. Schools are understaffed. Communities struggle to meet growing mental and physical health needs. Robotics, developed through medical technology programs like those at UC Irvine, could help bridge these gaps—not as decision-makers, but as tools that empower people to act sooner and more effectively. Still, robotics cannot replace empathy. Asimov understood this. His stories warned that even the most advanced machines reflect the values and limitations of their creators. A robot can follow rules, but it cannot feel fear or hope. It can calculate risk, but it cannot understand what it means to be overwhelmed or silently struggling. That responsibility remains human. In the final revision of the Sentinel program, developers added a new directive—not a law, but a guideline: when uncertainty exists, alert a human. The robot did not diagnose emotions or make judgments. Instead, it recognized patterns that suggested someone might need help and ensured a human was involved. Teachers, counselors, nurses, and doctors received notifications—not commands, but opportunities to intervene with care. The result was not a future run by machines, but one strengthened by collaboration. Robotics in the near future will challenge society to decide what we value most: efficiency or humanity, automation or responsibility. The true measure of progress will not be how advanced robots become, but how wisely humans choose to use them. As I prepare to study at UC Irvine—where innovation in medical technology is already shaping the future of healthcare—I see this story not as distant science fiction, but as a realistic possibility. Asimov’s legacy reminds us that technology must always serve people, and that compassion must remain at the center of innovation.

My journey with mental health began in middle school, when I started experiencing anxiety that I didn’t yet understand. Over time, that anxiety developed into panic attacks that felt overwhelming and frightening. I remember sitting on my bathroom floor, crying and terrified, unable to feel my hands as my body tensed and my heart raced. It felt as though I had just run miles without stopping, even though I was completely still. What made those moments especially difficult was not knowing why they were happening or how to make them stop. For a long time, I tried to push through my anxiety quietly, believing that struggling meant I was weak. Eventually, I learned that ignoring anxiety only gave it more power. With the support of my family and through therapy, I began to understand that anxiety is not a personal flaw, but a mental health challenge that requires care and attention. Therapy helped me develop tools that changed how I cope. Physical activity became one of my strongest supports, allowing me to release stress and regain control over my body. Journaling helped me slow my thoughts and process emotions, and having access to medication if I experience a panic attack gave me reassurance as I learned to manage my symptoms. Through consistency and effort, I have made meaningful progress, and I am proud to say that I have gone over six months without a panic attack. This progress has become even more meaningful in light of what my school community has experienced. This year alone, two students at my high school died by suicide. While they were not close friends, they were classmates—people I had grown up alongside, shared hallways with, and recognized as part of my community. Their loss was deeply unsettling and heartbreaking. It reinforced how silent and invisible mental health struggles can be, and how important it is to take them seriously. Experiencing this loss while managing my own anxiety made the importance of awareness, compassion, and support feel personal and urgent. Overcoming anxiety has taught me resilience, empathy, and awareness. It has helped me become more attentive to the people around me and more willing to check in, listen, and offer support. I’ve learned that mental health challenges don’t always look obvious and that small acts of kindness or understanding can make a meaningful difference. Looking ahead, I am committed to supporting others and helping reduce the stigma surrounding mental health. I plan to major in Public Health at the University of California, Irvine, where I hope to better understand how mental health fits into overall community wellness. Whether I pursue a career in medicine or law, mental health advocacy will remain central to my goals. I want to help create environments where people feel safe asking for help and where mental health is treated with the same importance as physical health. Anxiety has been one of my greatest challenges, but it has also shaped my purpose. By continuing to manage my own mental health and speak openly about its importance, I hope to honor those we have lost and help build a future where no one feels alone in their struggle.

I am a fan of Sabrina Carpenter because of the way she has grown into her voice—both as an artist and as a person—while staying authentic to who she is. Watching her career evolve has been inspiring, especially because she has faced criticism and pressure in the public eye yet continued to mature creatively and confidently. Sabrina’s journey shows that growth doesn’t happen overnight; it comes from persistence, self-belief, and owning who you are. What I admire most about Sabrina Carpenter is her honesty, especially in her newest album, Short n’ Sweet. Songs like “Please Please Please” and “Taste” showcase her self-awareness and confidence, blending vulnerability with humor and strength. Her lyrics feel intentional and unapologetic, capturing emotions many people experience but don’t always know how to express. Even lighter, upbeat tracks like “Espresso” reflect confidence and independence, reminding listeners that it’s okay to take up space and enjoy your own success. Sabrina’s career has impacted me because of her resilience. She began in the entertainment industry at a young age and has continuously worked to redefine herself beyond expectations. Instead of being boxed into one version of who she was supposed to be, she chose growth. That determination resonates with me, especially as someone learning to balance ambition, self-doubt, and personal growth. Her music reinforces the idea that setbacks don’t define you—how you respond to them does. On a personal level, Sabrina Carpenter’s music has been a source of confidence and reassurance. Her recent songs encourage self-worth, independence, and emotional honesty, which has helped me navigate moments of anxiety and uncertainty. Seeing her embrace her individuality and evolve so openly has inspired me to trust my own path. Ultimately, I am a fan of Sabrina Carpenter not just for her music, but for the example she sets. Her career reminds me that growth, confidence, and authenticity can coexist—and that kind of impact lasts far beyond the spotlight.

aylor Swift’s twelfth studio album, The Life of a Showgirl, reflects what it means to grow up and evolve while living life in the spotlight. When I think about Taylor’s long career, the performance that stands out most to me isn’t one I watched on a screen or streamed online—it’s one I experienced in person when I was very young. I was only about six years old when I attended Taylor Swift’s 1989 concert with my mom and my grandma, yet I remember it with surprising clarity. That night remains one of the most meaningful performances I’ve ever witnessed. Even at such a young age, I was completely aware that something special was happening. I remember the excitement of walking into the venue, the bright lights, the crowd buzzing with energy, and the feeling of being part of something much bigger than myself. Sitting between my mom and my grandma made the experience feel safe and magical at the same time. Looking back, it amazes me that a memory from when I was so young has stayed with me so clearly, which speaks to how impactful that performance truly was. While the entire concert was unforgettable, the moment that moved me most was when Taylor performed “Mean.” At the time, it was my favorite song. Even though I didn’t fully understand every lyric at six years old, I understood the feeling behind it. The song’s message about standing up to criticism and believing in yourself felt empowering, even to someone as young as me. Hearing it live made me feel confident and strong, and it was one of the first times music made me feel understood. Watching Taylor perform that song on such a large stage left a lasting impression on me. She seemed confident, joyful, and completely herself. Even then, I could sense that she wasn’t just singing—she was telling a story and sharing something personal with thousands of people. As someone who has grown up watching Taylor navigate fame and criticism, that performance now feels even more meaningful. It showed me early on that strength doesn’t come from perfection, but from resilience and self-belief. What made the night even more special was sharing it with three generations of women. My mom and grandma connected to the performance in their own ways, and being able to experience that moment together created a memory that still brings us closer today. That concert wasn’t just about the music; it was about family, connection, and creating a shared experience that we all carried with us afterward. Looking back now, I realize that the reason I remember that concert so clearly—even at such a young age—is because it represented joy, confidence, and togetherness. Taylor Swift’s life in the spotlight may be filled with massive stages and global audiences, but that performance showed me that the most powerful moments are often deeply personal. That night shaped my love for music and left me with a memory I will always cherish.

Based on Hannah Arendt, Eichmann in Jerusalem (1963), chapter on “The Banality of Evil” : Arendt explains that Adolf Eichmann did not act out of hatred, cruelty, or deep ideological conviction. Instead, he was frighteningly ordinary. He relied on clichés, bureaucratic language, and obedience to authority to justify his actions. His greatest failure was not wicked intent, but an inability to think critically about what he was doing. Eichmann never questioned the morality of his orders or reflected on the consequences of his actions. According to Arendt, this absence of thought—rather than monstrous evil—is what allowed extraordinary harm to occur. Essay: A Dissection of Hannah Arendt’s Idea of Moral Responsibility Hannah Arendt’s assertion that “most evil is done by people who never make up their minds to be either good or evil” challenges the traditional belief that wrongdoing is committed only by those who are intentionally malicious. Rather than portraying evil as the result of monstrous individuals, Arendt suggests that it often arises from ordinary people who fail to think critically, question authority, or recognize the moral weight of their actions. This idea, known as the “banality of evil,” forces readers to confront an uncomfortable truth: moral failure can stem from passivity just as easily as cruelty. By dissecting this statement, I gained insight into Arendt’s philosophy of responsibility, the dangers of obedience without thought, and the continuing relevance of her ideas in modern society. Arendt developed this concept while covering the trial of Adolf Eichmann, a Nazi official responsible for organizing the transportation of Jews to concentration camps. What shocked Arendt most was not Eichmann’s hatred or rage, but his apparent normalcy. He did not see himself as evil; instead, he viewed himself as someone who simply followed orders and performed his job efficiently. Eichmann’s inability—or refusal—to reflect on the consequences of his actions exemplified what Arendt meant by failing to choose between good and evil. He never paused to consider whether his actions were morally right or wrong. In Arendt’s view, this lack of thinking was precisely what made his actions so dangerous. The phrase “never make up their minds” is especially important in understanding Arendt’s argument. It implies that morality is not automatic; it requires active engagement. Being good is not simply the absence of bad intentions, but the presence of thoughtful judgment. Arendt believed that individuals must continuously evaluate their choices and consider how their actions affect others. When people stop thinking—whether out of fear, convenience, or blind obedience—they surrender their moral agency. In doing so, they allow harmful systems to continue unchecked. Arendt’s philosophy also challenges the comfort of distancing ourselves from wrongdoing. It is easy to believe that evil is committed by people who are fundamentally different from us. However, Arendt dismantles this idea by showing that ordinary individuals, placed within powerful systems, can contribute to harm without seeing themselves as villains. This realization is unsettling because it forces individuals to examine their own capacity for moral failure. Arendt does not argue that everyone will commit atrocities, but she warns that anyone is capable of contributing to injustice if they stop thinking critically. The “banality” Arendt describes does not mean that evil acts are trivial. Instead, it refers to how unremarkable the people committing them can appear. Evil becomes routine, bureaucratic, and normalized when individuals prioritize obedience, efficiency, or personal security over ethical reflection. This insight extends beyond historical atrocities and applies to everyday life. When people ignore unfair policies, remain silent in the face of discrimination, or follow harmful norms because “that’s how things are done,” they participate in the same moral passivity Arendt warned against. Arendt’s ideas are especially relevant in modern institutions such as governments, corporations, and healthcare systems, where decisions are often made within layers of authority. Individuals may feel detached from outcomes, believing responsibility lies elsewhere. Arendt argues the opposite: moral responsibility cannot be outsourced. Each person remains accountable for their actions, regardless of hierarchy. This perspective emphasizes the importance of ethical thinking in professions that directly affect others’ lives. Another key aspect of Arendt’s philosophy is her belief that thinking itself is a moral act. For Arendt, thinking does not mean intelligence or expertise, but reflection—an internal dialogue where individuals examine their choices and values. When people engage in this process, they are less likely to commit harm because they recognize the humanity of others. Thoughtlessness, on the other hand, creates distance between action and consequence. It allows individuals to justify harm through language, procedure, or obedience. The enduring power of Arendt’s idea lies in its call to personal responsibility. She does not offer easy answers or place blame solely on systems. Instead, she insists that individuals must remain morally awake, even in environments that discourage questioning. Her philosophy encourages courage—the courage to think independently, to resist harmful norms, and to accept responsibility for one’s actions. Arendt’s idea resonates with me because it highlights the responsibility individuals have within larger systems, something I see reflected in my own goals. As someone planning to study Public Health and potentially pursue a career in medicine or law, I will one day work within institutions that hold real power over people’s lives. Arendt’s warning against thoughtlessness reminds me that doing a job correctly is not the same as doing it ethically. Whether interpreting data, enforcing policy, or advocating for others, I believe it is essential to question decisions, consider their impact, and recognize the humanity behind every outcome. Her philosophy reinforces my belief that meaningful service requires not just knowledge, but awareness, accountability, and the courage to think independently. In conclusion, Hannah Arendt’s statement that most evil is done by those who never decide between good and evil reveals a profound truth about human behavior. Evil does not always announce itself through hatred or violence; it often emerges quietly through compliance, silence, and thoughtlessness. By dissecting this idea, we see how Arendt redefined moral responsibility and challenged individuals to recognize their role within larger systems. Her philosophy remains deeply relevant today, reminding us that the simple act of thinking—of choosing to engage morally with the world—is one of the strongest defenses against injustice.

What makes me unique is the combination of deep community roots and the opportunity I have earned through years of dedication and perseverance to play soccer at UC Irvine! I am a fourth-generation Gig Harbor resident, and my family’s history is woven into the town itself. My great-grandfather was a fisherman and owned Finholm’s Market, my grandparents opened Gig Harbor’s first sporting goods store in the 1970s, and today my family continues to serve the community as dentists, realtors, builders, teachers and financial consultants. Growing up surrounded by people who invested their lives into the place they lived taught me the importance of hard work, service, and staying connected to where you come from. Another part of what makes me unique is that I have been offered a Division I women’s soccer scholarship—an opportunity very few student-athletes achieve due to how competitive college athletics has become. Earning a partial athletic scholarship to the University of California, Irvine represents years of early mornings, long practices, constant self-discipline, and learning how to perform under pressure. Competing at the Division I level has pushed me to balance academics and athletics while holding myself to high standards in both. Next year, I will attend UC Irvine as a Public Health major. I chose this field because it aligns with my interest in helping people and understanding how systems and policies impact community health. After college, I hope to pursue either physician assistant school or law school to work as a prosecutor. While these paths may seem different, they share a common purpose: advocating for others and making a positive impact. This scholarship would directly support those goals. As an out-of-state student at a UC school, the financial responsibility is significant even with my athletic scholarship. Receiving this support would allow me to focus fully on my education, my sport, and my future. More importantly, it would help me return home prepared to serve the community that shaped me and continues to define who I am.

My name is Elizabeth, and I am a senior at Gig Harbor High School. Sports have been one of the strongest influences in my life, especially soccer, which has shaped my confidence, my work ethic, and the way I connect with my community. I’ve played varsity soccer all four years, trained at a high club level, and recently committed to play Division I soccer at the University of California, Irvine. While I’m proud of the milestones I’ve reached, what means the most to me is how sports have taught me to show up for others, especially younger athletes who are just starting out. To me, soccer is more than competition—it’s something I want to carry through my entire life. I don’t just want to play; I want to keep giving back to the sport. I already coach and help at youth camps during the summers, and I love watching younger players develop confidence, celebrate small improvements, and realize their potential. After high school, I plan to continue coaching whenever I’m home on breaks or have extra time outside of my college schedule. Even as a future Physician Assistant, I see myself staying connected to youth sports—coaching community teams, running clinics, or helping athletes with sports-related health and injury recovery. Soccer has given me so much, and I want to be the kind of coach who keeps kids excited, motivated, and supported. Growing up, I learned that sports build more than skills—they build character. I’ve dealt with the highs of big wins and the lows of setbacks, including a head injury that forced me to work my way back physically and mentally. Those challenges taught me resilience and patience, and they made me appreciate how important positive role models are. That’s why I try to be the teammate and mentor I once needed: someone steady, encouraging, and genuinely invested in helping others succeed. Outside of soccer, I’ve always been active in my community. My years in Girl Scouts taught me how to serve others through volunteering at food banks, shelters, and community events. I’ve also worked at Millville Pizza, which strengthened my communication skills and taught me how to stay calm under pressure—something that helps both in sports and life. As I prepare for college, I’m excited to study health and medical science while competing at the Division I level, but the financial challenge of out-of-state tuition is significant. Even with my athletic award, my family still faces a large financial gap, and because D1 soccer requires a full-time commitment, I won’t be able to work the way a typical student can. Scholarships like this one allow me to pursue my goals without placing overwhelming strain on my family. Ultimately, I want to make a lasting impact on my community through youth sports. If I can help young athletes feel supported, confident, and excited about their future—just like my coaches did for me—I’ll know I’ve made a meaningful difference both on and off the field.

My name is Elizabeth, and I am a senior at Gig Harbor High School, where I’ve built my life around academics, athletics, and serving my community. I’ve always been someone who stays busy, but everything I do has shaped who I am and who I hope to become. Academically, I’ve taken classes that connect to my passion for health and medicine, such as Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Human Body Systems, Nutrition, Psychology, and Sports Medicine. These classes taught me how the body works, why people get sick or injured, and how medical teams play such an important role in healing and support. Outside the classroom, soccer has been one of the biggest parts of my life. I’ve played varsity all four years, trained at a competitive club level, and pushed myself through setbacks and injuries that helped shape my resilience. In the fall of my junior year, I was offered the opportunity to play Division I soccer at the University of California, Irvine. Being committed to a D1 program has motivated me to work harder, stay disciplined, and lead by example, both on and off the field. I’m also involved in my community through volunteering and work. I spent years in Girl Scouts, where I volunteered at food banks, shelters, and community events. I’ve worked at Millville Pizza as a cook and server, which taught me communication skills, time management, and how to stay calm under pressure. I’ve also helped at youth soccer camps, and mentoring younger athletes made me realize how much I enjoy helping kids feel supported and confident. After high school, I plan to major in public health or medical science and eventually become a Physician Assistant, possibly in emergency medicine or pediatrics. My dream is to help people during their most stressful and vulnerable moments, especially after seeing through my mom’s work as a hospital social worker how impactful strong medical support can be. If I could start my own charity, it would focus on helping children with medical needs who don’t have strong parental support. I’ve seen how overwhelming the medical world can be, especially for kids who feel alone or scared. My charity would pair volunteers with children in hospitals, clinics, or residential programs to offer emotional support, mentorship, and companionship. Volunteers would visit kids during treatments, help with schoolwork, celebrate small wins, and simply be someone who shows up consistently. The mission would be to make sure no child facing medical challenges ever feels forgotten or unsupported. The charity would also provide care packages, help with transportation to appointments, and offer assistance navigating medical information. More than anything, it would create a sense of community for kids who deserve comfort, encouragement, and someone in their corner.

Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to work in a hospital helping children feel safe and cared for. My mom has worked in pediatric medicine for over twenty years as a social worker, and I’ve seen how she comforts families during some of the most difficult moments of their lives. Watching her made me realize that nurses have an incredible gift—the ability to heal not just the body, but also the heart. That’s why my goal is to become a pediatric nurse and one day work in a children’s hospital, supporting kids and families through both small and life-changing medical challenges. My path to nursing has also been shaped by my years as a student-athlete. Soccer has taught me discipline, teamwork, and how to stay calm under pressure—all things that matter in a hospital setting. As a player, I’ve learned to pay attention to small details, stay focused, and keep pushing forward even when I’m tired or nervous. Those lessons will guide me as a nurse, where focus, empathy, and endurance are just as important as medical knowledge. Through Girl Scouts and community service, I’ve spent time volunteering at family shelters, food banks, and local hospitals. I’ve seen firsthand how a simple act of kindness—a smile, a conversation, or a helping hand—can completely change someone’s day. As a pediatric nurse, I want to bring that same comfort to children who are scared or in pain. I hope to combine medical care with compassion, helping each child feel brave and cared for during their recovery. Although I don’t come from a military family, my 16-year-old brother hopes to join the armed forces after graduation. His determination to serve others reminds me why I want to go into nursing. The courage and sacrifice that comes with military service has taught me to value strength, compassion, and teamwork—all of which I will bring into my career as a nurse. This scholarship would help me continue my education and cover the costs not included in my partial soccer scholarship at the University of California, Irvine, where I will be playing Division I women’s soccer. Becoming a nurse is more than a career goal—it’s a promise I’ve made to myself and my community. I want to dedicate my life to helping children heal, bringing hope to families, and giving every patient the same care and compassion I’ve grown up watching my mom give every day.

Anxiety has been one of the hardest battles I’ve ever faced. As a competitive soccer player, I’ve always been known for my determination, focus, and leadership on the field—but inside, I was struggling in ways most people couldn’t see. I began having panic attacks that seemed to come out of nowhere. My heart would start racing, my chest would tighten, and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Sometimes it happened before a big game, but other times it hit me out of the blue, even when nothing was wrong. I didn’t understand why, and it scared me. During my junior year, the pressure became overwhelming. Between high school, club soccer, volunteering, and the college recruiting process, I felt like I had to hold everything together perfectly. My anxiety got worse, and I started to doubt myself. I remember freezing during a tournament because I couldn’t get control of my breathing. After that game, my coach told me, “You’re holding back—you have to trust yourself.” Those words stuck with me. I realized that if I didn’t take care of my mental health, I could lose the thing I loved most—soccer. I started to take small steps to get better. I learned breathing exercises to calm my panic attacks, began journaling before games, and opened up to my mom about how I was feeling. She reminded me that true strength isn’t about pretending you’re fine—it’s about doing the work to heal. Slowly, I found ways to stay grounded, even when panic tried to take over. I learned to focus on what I could control and to give myself grace on the hard days. By the end of that year, everything I had fought through paid off. When Coach Scott Juniper from UC Irvine called to offer me a roster spot on the Division I women’s soccer team, I cried tears of relief and pride. I had achieved my dream, but it meant so much more because I knew what it took to get there. I had faced my panic attacks, fear, and self-doubt—and won. Now, as I prepare to attend UC Irvine on a partial soccer scholarship, I am applying for this scholarship to help cover the remaining tuition and living costs. Every bit of support means I can continue focusing on my education, my team, and my growth—both on and off the field. My journey has shown me that strength comes from persistence, vulnerability, and believing in yourself even when life feels uncertain.

1. About Me: Values and Passion for Human Health Soccer has been a huge part of my life since I was two years old, and it has shaped who I am in every way. I’ve been offered a roster spot on the University of California, Irvine Division I Women’s Soccer Team, where I plan to attend on a partial athletic scholarship. Competing at an elite level has taught me discipline, teamwork, and perseverance — qualities that extend far beyond the field. Playing soccer also sparked my passion for human health and wellness. After experiencing and recovering from several sports injuries, I became fascinated by how the body heals and adapts. Each recovery deepened my curiosity about medicine and strengthened my desire to help others regain their physical and emotional strength. My values of empathy, service, and resilience have been shaped by both my athletic journey and my family. Watching my mother work as a pediatric medical social worker showed me that compassion and understanding are as essential to healing as science. These experiences have inspired my goal of pursuing a career in healthcare, where I can combine my love for science, movement, and human connection to make a lasting difference in people’s lives. 2. The Importance of Empathy in Healthcare To me, empathy means truly understanding what another person is feeling — stepping into their world with compassion, patience, and respect. In healthcare, empathy is the foundation of trust and healing. As an athlete, I’ve learned firsthand the importance of empathy in moments of struggle. I’ve faced several injuries throughout my soccer career — challenges that tested my resilience both physically and mentally. During recovery, I met doctors, nurses, and physical therapists who treated me not just as a patient, but as a person. They listened to my frustrations, encouraged my goals, and celebrated small victories with me. Their empathy helped me rebuild confidence and reminded me that healing is as much emotional as it is physical. Now, as I prepare to attend the University of California, Irvine, where I’ve been offered a roster spot on the Division I Women’s Soccer Team and a partial athletic scholarship, I carry those lessons with me. My experiences as both an athlete and a patient have shaped how I view healthcare — not simply as science, but as service rooted in human understanding. Empathy in medicine means more than being kind; it means listening deeply, communicating clearly, and meeting people where they are. Patients may forget the medical terminology, but they will always remember how they were made to feel. When healthcare providers approach care through a human-centered lens, they build trust and foster a sense of safety that supports healing on every level. In my future career — whether as a nurse, physician assistant, or specialist in sports medicine — I plan to approach every patient with empathy and curiosity. I want to understand not just what hurts, but why it matters to them. I believe the best care combines knowledge with genuine connection, and even small gestures — a reassuring word, an extra moment of listening — can make a lasting impact. Empathy also extends beyond the individual patient. It means advocating for equitable care, recognizing disparities, and striving to ensure that every person, regardless of background or circumstance, feels seen and valued. Empathy is what inspired my passion for healthcare and continues to guide me as a student, athlete, and future medical professional. It is the bridge between science and humanity — the quality that turns care into healing and connection into hope.

1. Personal Inspiration for Pursuing a Career in Nursing (290 words) My inspiration to pursue a career in nursing comes from a lifetime of experiences centered around compassion, healing, and human connection. Growing up, I watched my mother work as a pediatric medical social worker, supporting children and families through some of the hardest moments of their lives. Seeing the difference she made through empathy and care sparked my admiration for the medical field and planted the seed for my own desire to help others. As a lifelong athlete, I’ve experienced both the excitement of competition and the challenges of injury. Recovering from several sports injuries gave me firsthand insight into the importance of skilled, compassionate healthcare. My nurses and medical providers never just treated my injuries — they encouraged me, motivated me, and helped me believe in my ability to recover. That personal experience showed me that nursing is not just about medicine; it’s about guiding people through the emotional and physical journey of healing. I am inspired by the idea of combining science with compassion — of being someone who can both understand the medical complexities of the human body and connect with patients on a deeply personal level. Nursing will allow me to be hands-on, to make a tangible difference every day, and to bring comfort to people in their most vulnerable moments. My experiences on and off the soccer field have taught me resilience, teamwork, and the importance of empathy — qualities I will carry into my future career as a nurse. 2. The Meaning of “Human Touch” in Patient Care (375 words) To me, the phrase “human touch” means more than physical contact — it represents the emotional presence, empathy, and connection that define true patient care. It’s the warmth in a nurse’s voice, the reassurance in a gentle hand, and the understanding in a listening ear. “Human touch” is what turns medicine into healing. Throughout my life, I’ve witnessed and experienced the profound impact of human touch. When I suffered injuries as a soccer player, I was surrounded by medical professionals who treated me not just as a patient, but as a person. They listened to my frustrations, celebrated my small victories, and reminded me that I was more than my setbacks. Their compassion made me feel seen and valued — it helped me heal mentally as well as physically. That experience shaped how I view nursing: it’s a profession built on both science and heart. In patient care, the human touch can mean everything. A patient might forget the technical terms or exact procedures, but they will always remember how their nurse made them feel. A caring presence can reduce anxiety, build trust, and even improve recovery outcomes. Nurses are often the bridge between the medical system and the human experience, translating clinical care into comfort and understanding. I believe that technology and medicine will continue to evolve, but the essence of nursing — the human touch — will always remain vital. It’s what allows patients to feel safe, respected, and hopeful. To me, being a nurse means being that comforting presence in someone’s hardest moment, providing care that goes beyond the physical to reach the heart. That is the kind of nurse I aspire to be — one who brings healing through both knowledge and compassion.

For as long as I can remember, I have been drawn to the idea of caring for others. Growing up with a mother who works as a pediatric medical social worker, I have seen the impact that compassionate healthcare professionals can have on patients and their families during the hardest moments of their lives. Watching her advocate for children facing serious illnesses and support parents through uncertainty has shown me that healthcare is not just about medicine—it’s about humanity. That example inspired me to pursue a degree in nursing, where I can combine science, empathy, and service to make a meaningful difference. My passion for nursing is also shaped by my experiences as a student-athlete. As a four-year varsity soccer player, I’ve learned resilience, discipline, and teamwork. Sports taught me how to stay calm under pressure and how to trust in collaboration—skills that are essential in nursing. I’ve also experienced injuries and recovery firsthand, giving me deep respect for the medical professionals who guided me back to health. Their encouragement not only helped me heal physically but also inspired me to become someone who could help others do the same. Nursing appeals to me because it connects technical knowledge with human connection. I want to be the person who listens, comforts, and advocates when others are vulnerable. Whether it’s in a hospital, clinic, or community health setting, I see nursing as an opportunity to stand beside people in moments that truly matter—to ease fear, restore dignity, and promote healing. As a future nurse, I hope to contribute to my community by expanding access to compassionate, quality care for families and children. I plan to begin my career in family or pediatric practice, where I can help bridge the gap between medical treatment and emotional support. Beyond clinical care, I want to advocate for preventive health education—especially in underserved communities—so that families have the knowledge and resources to stay healthy before crises occur. I also hope to mentor young athletes and students who are interested in healthcare, showing them that strength, leadership, and empathy can coexist in powerful ways. Nursing, to me, is more than a career; it’s a calling rooted in empathy, service, and strength. I want to carry forward the compassion I grew up watching in my mother, the perseverance I learned through athletics, and the deep belief that healing begins with kindness. Through nursing, I hope to give back to the world the same care and encouragement that have guided me.