I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom. While our story is still being written, between his return and his high school graduation, a span of 28 months, our high school lost eleven classmates. Nine to suicide. And a short two weeks after my graduation, I lost another friend to an overdose who had been sober for a year and almost a month. I was with my church youth group on a trip when I got the news. With all of the above,I have added Psychology to my majors and let anyone know I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. I know my parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some very brave friends called. I have had to make those calls twice. It was not easy. I am beyond grateful they are still here.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom. While our story is still being written, between his return and his high school graduation, a span of 22 months, our high school lost nine classmates. Eight to suicide. I have added Psychology to my majors for college, become involved in Blue Skies Club at school and let anyone know that I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. And this is not wildly popular, I know that my parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some very brave friends called. I have had to make those calls twice this year. It was not easy. They are still here. And I am beyond grateful.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom. While our story is still being written, between his return and his high school graduation, a span of 28 months, our high school lost eleven classmates. Nine to suicide. One to a drug overdose celebrating her one year of sobriety. We were just shy of two weeks past our high school’s graduation. I have added Psychology to my majors for college, become involved in Blue Skies Club at school and let anyone know that I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. And this is not wildly popular, I know that my parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some very brave friends called. More than one called. One young woman , my parents still don’t know who she is, other than she saved a life. I have had to make those calls twice my senior year. It was not easy. They are still here. And I am beyond grateful. Their parent listened like mine did. My friend, did not graduate with us she instead, got the help she desperately needed and was able to come to understand how she needs to move through life more securely and without influence of people and things that can cause harm. What I have not shared is my other major: Theatre Performing Arts. I have had the privilege of working alongside some very talented actors, dancers and vocalists. I have noticed that many artists who are brilliant in their craft also have need(maybe not access) to sustained emotional support. One amazing artist taught a class one summer called, “The Big Green Monster.” It was how she saw her anxiety every single time she walked on stage-curtain up to final bow. The pressure that an actor, no matter the medium, places on themselves is unsustainable. I have seen full blown panic attacks back stage mere minutes before a show opens. It’s my hope or really my goal to be able to be a part of a company, either on tour or (fingers crossed) Broadway and be able to provide the support to my team beyond what we bring to the stage. This kind of mental health support should be looked at the same way as dance classes or vocal coaching. It can, like with any professional athlete add years to their performing careers and I hope to be a part of it!

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. Turner Syndrome in most cases is not considered immediately life threatening, there are conditions associated with Turners that can cause complications that are life threatening. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. We will have to wait and see what kind of impact it will have on my ability to safely carry a pregnancy to full term. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much about coping, and in the way that I value and view others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. Turner Syndrome in most cases is not considered immediately life threatening, there are conditions associated with Turners that can cause complications that are life threatening. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. We will have to wait and see what kind of impact it will have on my ability to safely carry a pregnancy to full term. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much about coping, and in the way that I value and view others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them. I want to use my double major of Theatre Performance and Psychology to inspire and influence conversations around inclusion.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. Turner Syndrome in most cases is not considered immediately life threatening, there are conditions associated with Turners that can cause complications that are life threatening. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. We will have to wait and see what kind of impact it will have on my ability to safely carry a pregnancy to full term. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much about coping, and in the way that I value and view others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

“The Camino provides”, a silly, cliche phrase that encompasses the one hundred mile walking journey to Santiago, Spain. When we, as pilgrims would hear the phrase we would roll our eyes and laugh because how silly that a path in the countryside of Spain could provide us with anything. On the fifth day of walking spirits were low, stomachs were grumbling, and the lack of sleep was starting to kick in. To make matters worse we hadn't been able to eat breakfast this morning because of a miscommunication with the hotel we stayed at that night. On our walk to lunch for the day we couldn't take it anymore.We had already walked five miles and had another two or three more before lunch. It would be hours before we would stop. We were on a path taking us through the middle of a forest with nothing but greenery around, not a building in sight. When my brother says “If I don't find something to eat soon I am going to lose it.” About 100 feet down the path in the middle of the forest we found a woman who had a cart full of fresh fruit, bagels, chips, nuts, and other on the go walking snacks for us to enjoy. We had a field day. This showed us that maybe the Camino really does provide. Especially when you least expect it. How miraculous that we found food in the middle of a forest after a hard morning. When we were officially joining the church as ninth graders we listened to many deacons, elders, pastors and parents share their faith journeys. What impressed me was the people along the way. Those who showed up. No questions or answers really- just by their side. Like Jesus is, except when he carries us. I have those people too, parents, brother, faith family and specific friends. Faith even when you’re not walking the Camino with your Church Youth Group, shows itself in the most important moments. It reminds you are and whose you are especially in the midst of hunger, anger, pain and loss. Even in the storm, faith ensures people show up. To quietly walk with you, stock your refrigerator, hold you while you cry, or make sure your path has snacks along the way. I hope as I walk through college and beyond I can be the person who is known to show up with faith and snacks no matter what the journey.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. Now I know as you read this you are scratching your head wondering, when is she going to talk about being a student athlete? Did you see the part about my time in the studio? Master classes? The conditioning classes alone put my brother’s baseball team to shame. We utilized plyometrics, cross training, weight lifting and cardio. To be able to execute a full dance program, ballet or theatre performance the need for stamina and endurance is crucial. Being able to move, dance and sing requires a fully trained and conditioned lung capacity. My sports training generally can range from four to sixteen hour a week in the studio depending on the season. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. Navigating daily life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. I can’t express my gratitude to Delaney and her mom for showing up. Our story is still being written, between his return and his graduation, our high school lost nine classmates. Eight to suicide. I have added Psychology to my majors for college, become involved in Blue Skies Club and let anyone know that I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. My parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some brave friends called. I have had to make those calls twice this year. It was not easy. They are still here. I am beyond grateful.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom. While our story is still being written, between his return and his high school graduation, a span of 22 months, our high school lost nine classmates. Eight to suicide. I have added Psychology to my majors for college, become involved in Blue Skies Club at school and let anyone know that I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. And this is not wildly popular, I know that my parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some very brave friends called. I have had to make those calls twice this year. It was not easy. They are still here. And I am beyond grateful.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom. While our story is still being written, between his return and his high school graduation, a span of 22 months, our high school lost nine classmates. Eight to suicide. I have added Psychology to my majors for college, become involved in Blue Skies Club at school and let anyone know that I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. And this is not wildly popular, I know that my parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some very brave friends called. I have had to make those calls twice this year. It was not easy. They are still here. And I am beyond grateful.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom. While our story is still being written, between his return and his high school graduation, a span of 22 months, our high school lost nine classmates. Eight to suicide. I have added Psychology to my majors for college, become involved in Blue Skies Club at school and let anyone know that I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. And this is not wildly popular, I know that my parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some very brave friends called. I have had to make those calls twice this year. It was not easy. They are still here. And I am beyond grateful.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom. While our story is still being written, between his return and his high school graduation, a span of 22 months, our high school lost nine classmates. Eight to suicide. I have added Psychology to my majors for college, become involved in Blue Skies Club at school and let anyone know that I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. And this is not wildly popular, I know that my parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some very brave friends called. I have had to make those calls twice this year. It was not easy. They are still here. And I am beyond grateful.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. Turner Syndrome in most cases is not considered immediately life threatening, there are conditions associated with Turners that can cause complications that are life threatening. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. We will have to wait and see what kind of impact it will have on my ability to safely carry a pregnancy to full term. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much about coping, and in the way that I value and view others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness therapy/rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. But the alternative was worse. He had already tried to take his life twice at this point and our parents were desperate for solutions. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom. While our story is still being written, between his return and his high school graduation, a span of 22 months, our high school lost nine classmates. Eight to suicide. I have added Psychology to my majors for college, become involved in Blue Skies Club at school and let anyone know that I am here to listen without judgement, or get you to a trusted adult for help. And this is not wildly popular, I know that my parents were not aware of the depth of Kellan’s pain until some very brave friends called. I have had to make those calls twice this year. It was not easy. They are still here. And I am beyond grateful.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. Now I know as you read this you are scratching your head wondering, when is she going to talk about being a student athlete? Did you see the part about my time in the studio? Master classes? The conditioning classes alone put my brother’s baseball team to shame. We utilized plyometrics, cross training, weight lifting and cardio. To be able to execute a full dance program, ballet or theatre performance the need for stamina and endurance is crucial. Being able to move, dance and sing requires a fully trained and conditioned lung capacity. My sports training generally can range from four to sixteen hour a week in the studio depending on the season. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway. Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. While Turner Syndrome is not immediately life threatening, it can have life threatening complications depending on how the mutation presents itself. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. It still remains to be seen as to how it will impact my ability to safely become a mom. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much about coping, and in the way that I value and view others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

My first concert ever was Sabrina Carpenter. But even before that my mom, my best friend and her mom and I never missed an episode of “Girl Meets World.” I couldn’t ever figure out why out of all the Disney stars that went pop why did Sabrina fascinate me or speak to me? January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them. So there, I said it, I am a bit over five feet tall. I sing, dance and I am, according to my peers, louder than most of them are comfortable with. Sabrina helped me be comfortable with me.

Mom and I got lucky enough to catch an early viewing of Wicked, the Wednesday evening before its Thursday release. I’m a theatre kid. I know Wicked but I was not prepared for what magic John Chu and the entire cast shared with us all on the screen. Nor was I prepared for my mom’s outward reaction to the “friend” dance between Cynthia and Ariana. I believe the term is “ugly crying.” The choreography placed on these actors, I believe by Comfort Fedoke was tender, kind and shreds my mom’s heart every time we’ve watched. And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life. I don’t love seeing my mom cry, but I do want to be able to share emotions with others by telling stories beautifully.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

Let’s all be honest, Covid changed everything for everyone. It changed how people related to each other. I attend one of the largest high schools in Charlotte, NC, and by the time I had hit the end of my sophomore year, I wanted to investigate an alternative approach to school by switching to middle college. This approach afforded me the ability to learn more about how I could perform with college level courses and how to manage my time more efficiently. It also allowed for me to do more of what I love, which is theater and performing. Enter into my life Dr. Corlis Hayes. Dr. Hayes is a professor of communications at Central Piedmont Community College. She’s also a teacher and adviser/advocate for students in a program for those Theatre students who may not have access or been accepted into their dream schools, called The Bridge Project. This program is for all but specifically supports those students who are underrepresented. Dr. Hayes and I met November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. I was fortunate enough for her to play my grandmother. Every single rehearsal and performance we talked about, laughed and just plain old cut up back stage. Now I know this seems like the norm for every cast, but at the time I was 16 years old and Dr. Hayes was 72. She would give me notes on my character and diction. Dr. Hayes pulled my mother aside and let her know that I was the only “young person” in the cast who gave her the time of day. She also said that while she appreciated my talents that what she appreciated more was my work ethic, professionalism and above all, kindness. Since then, she’s reached out to me to ask me for support and suggestions when she’s working with youth and helping them with new choreography and rehearsals. We have connected on auditions, writing and yes, college decisions. Dr. Hayes showed me while we were in Freaky Friday, that Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life. I know that the friendship that Dr. Hayes and I have found is a gift and I hope we will continue to learn from each other long after I leave for college.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life. The opportunity to pursue both my BFA in Theatre Performance and Major in Psychology at Hofstra University will allow me to continue to elevate my skills. Understanding human emotions and being able to express them on a stage, screen or any platform to connect any meaningful conversation is what I have been passionately chasing since my very first dance performance. It was further heightened with the first laugh I received as “Chip” and it was solidified the minute I fully digested and embraced all of “Hamilton.” To continue improving and sharing necessary content and conversations will be the greatest achievement of all. Thank you for your consideration.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

I burst into tears when I walked into Kellan's room and saw the small suitcase. He wiped the tears from his own face and held me while I cried. “I'm going to be okay,” he said. The reality was that he was leaving that day for a wilderness rehab center in Maine for an unknown amount of time to face his demons head-on. To say that each of us was overwhelmed with emotion may be an understatement. I was in eighth grade, and like most eighth graders my emotions were high but this was on another level. I remember his friends coming over that day to say goodbye, and I remember how they promised to look out for me, which they did. I also remember within twenty minutes of my dad and brother leaving for the airport that my best friend Delaney and her mom were at our door. “Let’s go for a walk.” I didn’t ask but people showed up for me in beautiful and unexpected ways. During his two month absence I spent a lot of time reading and watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - both movies. I had read it three years earlier and let’s be clear I will watch it each and every time it’s on tv. I think I returned to it because it brought me comfort. It reminded me of a happier time where we enjoyed the book and movie together. In this book Harry Potter goes on a journey to find who he is outside of school and find out next steps on his journey. I was navigating figuring out life without my brother and the transition to high school. With further reflection on the movie last time we watched, it highlights, at least for me, the message of chosen family. Who shows up when you are battling your dementors? Or who is by your side in a duel against your mortal enemy? And even in the happiest of times who is brave enough to protect your name when you’re not in the room where the conversation is even happening. Even now it is a book/movie that I return to in moments when I want to silence the chaos around me. Fortunately Kellan returned and his journey ended happily. I think back to the amazing relationships I made with his friends and I am grateful for how they took care of me and became my unofficial siblings. And I can’t express my gratitude for how Delaney and her mom showed up as my unofficial Ms. Weasley and Jenny for me and my mom.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times. My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. Now I know as you read this you are scratching your head wondering, when is she going to talk about being a student athlete? Did you see the part about my time in the studio? Master classes? The conditioning classes alone put my brother’s baseball team to shame. We utilized plyometrics, cross training, weight lifting and cardio. To be able to execute a full dance program, ballet or theatre performance the need for stamina and endurance is crucial. Being able to move, dance and sing requires a fully trained and conditioned lung capacity. My sports training generally can range from four to sixteen hour a week in the studio depending on the season. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, theatre master classes, tech rehearsals and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. Each actor brings a little something different to every role. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November of 2023, I played the lead role Ellie in the Central Piedmont Community College production of Disney’s Freaky Friday. Ellie is strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me in everyday interactions. I would like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Beyond all of the nice side benefits of theater, I have also learned how to pick myself up after a lack luster audition. How to take notes from a director or production assistant and apply them to my performance without taking the notes personally. I have learned a show cannot happen without the crew and it is crucial for everyone’s success to ensure each person is appreciated and thanked for their kindness and contribution to the delivery of excellence in a show. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of beauty and the beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actor. I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve with musical theater. Stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality. How you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. The personality you have gathered from your character after months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November, I played the lead role Ellie in the CPCC production of Freaky Friday. She’s strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me,in everyday interactions. I’d like to think no one did Ellie quite like me. I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on successes, and learn about being a true friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities.

And action. These two words have consumed my life ever since I was eight years old, doing the fifth grade, production of beauty and the beast (I was the cutest teacup ever by the way). Ever since then I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life, musical theater. After 8+ productions, one movie , and countless hours in the dance studio, and in vocal lessons, I’ve learned so much about what it means to be an actress.Not only that I’ve learned more about myself than I could’ve ever learned without musical theater. stepping into a new character allows you to explore your own personality how you perform a certain character is vastly different than how someone else would perform it. The personality that you have gathered from your character after two months of rehearsals and performances, changes your real life personality. I see little glimpses of characters that I have played in the past in my everyday life. In November, I played the lead role ellie in the CPCC production of freaky Friday. she was strong, confident, and kind. I try to take aspects of her personality with me,in every day interactions.Id like to think that no one did Ellie quite like me I’ve also met some of the most amazing people through musical theater that I would not have had the privilege to meet if I hadn’t been in these productions. We lift each other up, congratulate each other on our successes, and learn so much about being a friend. If I hadn’t had all these opportunities that I had mentioned, I would not be the person I am today. Performing for people is my passion and I consider it a huge success that this is what I get to do with my life. More recently, I have had the privilege of performing with varying abilities dancers and performers through two groups, Step Together (Inclusive Dance Company) and the Penguin Project. This summer, I have the opportunity to mentor various abilities actors in “Annie, at Theatre Charlotte. As a mentor, I will be supporting actors with (for example) Cerebral Palsy, Downs Syndrome, William’s Syndrome and others. As they audition, learn choreography, memorize their lines and then with the help of the director and other mentors we get to highlight their gifts on stage across multiple shows. This collaboration across varied personalities, abilities and needs always brings me joy and fulfillment that words fail to express. These actors/dancers/performers have given me the ability to see the beauty in all performers and to understand that each person has a story that may not be visible to the untrained observer. It has underscored for me that everyone deserves kindness and an open heart.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes.  My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times.  My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes.  My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times.  My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them. The arts can and should be a an open and inclusive environment where students, artists and patrons can all share in their love of creativity, expression and passion.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes.  My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times.  My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes.  My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times.  My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes.  My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times.  My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes.  My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. I do have the petite stature, math and spacial awareness can be a challenge for me. I have definitely had to incorporate additional focus on stage when I perform. My family has noticed that every night while I am getting ready for bed, they said that I am constantly knocking items over or dropping things. Now it makes sense! Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times.  My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

January 2020, my mom pushed a stack of papers towards me, and uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a young girl and preteen, I didn't notice my petite stature. To me everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing more, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I was much smaller than I thought I was. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and some of my friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact that I might not actually be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size. Without telling me they consulted my pediatrician Dr.Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said that she and my parents shared a concern about my lack of growth, and wanted to explore some explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for a myriad of things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are going to test for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome is a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes.  My diagnosis was called "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present the usual symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated artery or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller described a course of treatment where I would receive daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, and instructed me on how to do it myself. This instruction, as well as the enormous stack of papers was a way for me to take ownership in understanding what was going on with myself. The next evening my mom gave me the injection, and by the third day, it was my turn. It took ten minutes of psyching myself up, but eventually I was successful. I continued with this daily ritual for three and a half years, finally stopping last summer. In many ways my diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and in the way that I value and judge others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced the ways that being short might have advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, being a small partner in dance, and being able to squeeze in tight spaces. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at my school, promoting mental health and personal care. I also became acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person that I meet, knowing that they might be going through difficult times.  My experience has definitely shaped who I am, and the person that I will be in college. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and to meet new people who, like myself, come to campus with their own story that you may not be able to see just by looking at them.

January 2020, my mom uttered five words. "You have Mosaic Turner Syndrome." I heard the words, and yet, I didn't. A month of evaluations and tests by pediatricians, cardiologists, and endocrinologists culminated in five words? It didn't seem possible. As a preteen girl, I didn't notice my petite stature. Then everyone seemed small. Even when my friends started growing, I didn't feel out of place. Looking back at pictures, I see I was smaller than I thought. I always had a "tall personality." As puberty hit, and friends began to blossom, I remained short, oblivious to the fact I might not be growing. When I was ten, my parents began to question my diminutive size by consulting my pediatrician Dr. Ohmstede. At my next appointment she said she wanted to explore explanations. Dr. Miller, my endocrinologist, tested me for many things, trying to eliminate possibilities. I remember her explaining, “You don’t look like you have Turner Syndrome but we are testing for it anyway.” Turner Syndrome - a genetic mutation in the chromosomes, a malformation in the karyotypes. My diagnosis is "mosaic" because I am the only person in the world with my specific karyotype. I did not present common symptoms like, a webbed neck, a bifurcated aorta or horseshoe shaped kidneys. Dr. Miller prescribed daily injections of human growth hormone. Initially, a nurse from my mother's company came over and gave me the first injection, guiding me how to do it myself. This instruction, allowed me to take ownership of my diagnosis and growth. The third day, it was my turn. I continued this daily ritual for four years, finally stopping last summer. My diagnosis taught me so much–both in coping, and the way I value and view others. Mostly, I learned how to love myself. I embraced how being short has advantages. I have enjoyed being cast in younger roles, and being a small partner in dance. I focused on healthy living and joined the Blue Skies Club at school, promoting mental health and personal care. I am acutely aware of seeing and embracing every person I meet, knowing they might be going through difficult times.  My experience has shaped who I am, and the person that I will be. I am excited to bring all five feet of myself to campus, and meet new people who, like myself, have their own story that is not always apparent.