A French seam in sewing is where you hide a raw edge from sight. You fold it once, and you fold it once more. It’s supposed to tidy up the look of the garment, and hide anything that’s less than satisfactory, because, after all, anything less than satisfactory must be concealed. Once at a middle-school dance, a classmate declared my hand-sewn dress I was so proud to debut, “garbage bag-esque”. I hid my tears and wore a bright smile like most 6th graders would, and from that point on, I hid my sewing skills. I hid my passion and my notebook I would take everywhere full of sketches inspired from my travels, waiting for inspiration to hit. I was ashamed of it, because of someone else’s words. Like a French seam, I tucked away my own raw edges; the little imperfections that made me, me. My paradigm shift happened when I began realizing I wasn’t any happier tucking myself away rather than expressing myself and earning the success I had always wanted. In my junior year of high school, I opened a shop on Depop, an e-commerce fashion marketplace. I created it to be distinctively mine, applying all my DIY hacks to the layout, design, and execution of the storefront. I sold over 90 upcycled items and original pieces, honored that others enjoyed my concept, too. My daily routine was to wake up, view the sales, package items, and ship— all before breakfast. I channeled my joy of sewing into my shop, and fostered a renewed pride in my designs. In the past, self-doubt and the criticisms of others often stifled my confidence in my sewing abilities. However, as I embraced the idea that there was nothing to hide and that imperfections could be embraced, I found a newfound freedom to explore the intricacies of sewing and design. While French seams exemplify beauty in concealing raw edges, I learned that not all flaws need to be masked; rather, they can be celebrated as part of the creative process. Success, to me, embodies the belief in oneself and the determination to pursue and achieve personal goals. From a young age, I harbored an insatiable desire to set objectives and see them through to fruition. This drive was evident even in childhood endeavors, such as running a lemon stand. The exhilaration of making a profit and the thrill of engaging in entrepreneurial ventures fueled my passion for success and instilled in me a relentless pursuit of my aspirations. Every summer after, I initiated a new venture, improving on my lemon stand model. My handmade jewelry boutique ultimately failed after not identifying a target audience. Who knew paper-clip earrings wouldn't be a hit with adults? Even in middle school, the Vogue-inspired photos of my clothing line were unsightly. However, these oversights never deterred me; I laughed and challenged myself to do better. Determined to learn the basics, I enrolled in a business class at West Valley College during my junior year. Analyzing operational, management, and financial plans for class fueled me to develop a comprehensive business plan of my own.Over that summer, I launched That’s Nice Swim, a swimwear company, with my best friend. We made this enterprise truly our own by designing the products, hand-sewing each item, and donating a percentage of our profit to charity. We were engaged in the steep learning curve of sales, delivery, funding, sourcing, and manufacturing. Much to our amazement, it was a success. I’m grateful for the experience of being an entrepreneur and it has validated my devotion for business. Learning business principles from classes, experts, and consumers has enabled me to see more aspects of this field than I could have imagined. As I envision my future, I see myself persistently working to satisfy my insatiable creative drive. I am eager to pursue the next step, whether it’s selling lemons or creating my next start-up. This opportunity presents itself at a time where I am finally growing into who I am meant to be. I feel good about my passions, hobbies, and direction in life. I wouldn’t change a thing and I want to be sufficient and be able to establish myself as my own. My personal success comes from a standard I set myself to. I have been learning the only place I can find true satisfaction is by hard work, perseverance, and dedication. I am passionate about my future and I want to build something of myself, and for everyone who I knew I could rely on.

If my year so far had a soundtrack, it would undoubtedly feature Taylor Swift's "Clean" from her album "1989 (Taylor's Version)." This song resonates with me on a profound level, encapsulating my journey of prioritizing mental health and reclaiming my sense of self-worth in 2023. As the haunting melodies of "Clean" enveloped me, I found myself confronting the toxic energy and negative vibes that had infiltrated my life. In the midst of depression and toxic relationships, my mental health became a casualty of neglect, overshadowed by the demands of daily life. However, "Clean" served as a poignant reminder that true healing begins with a commitment to self-care and self-love. The lyrics, "Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it," struck a chord within me, serving as a rallying cry for change and transformation. I realized that I could no longer afford to jeopardize my mental well-being for the sake of others or societal expectations. My mental health became a non-negotiable priority, and I was determined to wash away every trace of negativity and toxicity from my life. In 2023, I embarked on a journey of self-discovery and healing, guided by the principles of self-love and mindfulness. I learned to set boundaries, prioritize my needs, and surround myself with positive influences that uplifted and supported me. I embraced self-care practices such as meditation, journaling, and regular exercise, nurturing my mind, body, and soul. With each passing day, I felt a renewed sense of clarity and purpose, as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The darkness of depression began to recede, replaced by a newfound sense of inner peace and resilience. I no longer allowed the opinions of others to dictate my worth or define my happiness. Instead, I took ownership of my life and embraced my journey with courage and authenticity. "Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it," became my mantra, a declaration of my unwavering commitment to safeguarding my mental health at all costs. I refused to compromise my well-being for the sake of external validation or temporary gratification. Instead, I chose to honor myself and cultivate a life filled with joy, purpose, and fulfillment. As I reflect on the year gone by, I am filled with gratitude for the transformative power of "Clean" and its profound impact on my journey of self-discovery and healing. It serves as a constant reminder that I am worthy of love, happiness, and inner peace, and that my mental health deserves the utmost care and attention. In conclusion, "Clean" by Taylor Swift encapsulates my commitment to prioritizing mental health and reclaiming my sense of self-worth in 2023. Its haunting melodies and empowering lyrics serve as a beacon of hope and inspiration, guiding me towards a life filled with authenticity, resilience, and inner peace. With each listen, I am reminded of the power of self-love and the importance of honoring my mental health journey with courage and compassion.

Navigating my journey through UCLA, I found myself confronting a reality I hadn't fully acknowledged: I was struggling with depression. It took me a while to recognize it because I didn't understand that the feelings I experienced were not just a normal part of life. Ignoring it seemed easier than confronting it. But as I progressed through my freshman year, challenges seemed to pile up, and I felt like I was spiraling down a slope of despair, with no one there to catch me before I fell into the depths of darkness. Amidst these struggles, I found solace in the connections I formed on campus. Whether it was through my job, friendships with coworkers, or involvement in clubs like HER Campus, I discovered pockets of support that helped me navigate the turbulent waters of my mental health. My job on campus not only provided financial stability but also a sense of purpose and camaraderie with my coworkers. Working alongside them, I found a sense of belonging and friendship that uplifted me during some of my darkest moments. Similarly, my involvement in the gym and clubs like HER Campus provided me with outlets for self-expression and connection. Engaging in physical activity helped me manage stress and improve my mood, while participating in HER Campus allowed me to explore my passion for graphic design and storytelling. Through these activities, I not only honed my skills but also forged meaningful friendships with like-minded individuals who supported and uplifted me. Despite these sources of support, I still grappled with feelings of isolation and self-doubt. It wasn't until I reached a breaking point, resorting to harmful behaviors like restricting food and self-punishment, that I realized I needed help. The turning point came when I recognized that living in such darkness couldn't be the way forward. There had to be better ways to cope and thrive. Taking proactive steps towards my mental wellness, I began prioritizing self-care and seeking professional support. I learned to listen to my intuition, trust myself, and cultivate a positive inner dialogue. Instead of seeking validation from others, I focused on nurturing my own sense of worth and happiness. One of the key realizations I had was that mental health is not something to be ashamed of or ignored. It's a fundamental aspect of our overall well-being, deserving of attention, care, and support. By acknowledging my struggles and seeking help, I took the first steps towards reclaiming control of my life and finding a sense of balance and fulfillment. My involvement in campus activities also played a crucial role in my mental wellness journey. Engaging in activities I was passionate about, such as graphic design and storytelling, provided me with a sense of purpose and fulfillment. These creative outlets allowed me to express myself authentically and connect with others who shared similar interests and values. Moreover, participating in physical activities like going to the gym helped me manage stress and anxiety, while also improving my overall mood and well-being. Exercise became not only a way to stay physically healthy but also a form of self-care and self-expression. As I look back on my time at UCLA, I am grateful for the lessons I've learned and the growth I've experienced. While the journey towards mental wellness is ongoing, I am proud of how far I've come and excited for the opportunities that lie ahead. By prioritizing self-care, seeking support, and fostering meaningful connections, I am confident that I can continue to thrive, both personally and academically, as I navigate the next chapter of my life.

I did not know I was depressed for a long time. I ignored it and pretended I wasn’t. It just never occurred to me I could possess feelings, or lack of feelings, that other people didn’t experience. When I went through my freshman year of college, one thing after another just began going wrong. I felt as if I was going down a slope of doom and that I was just going to keep slipping down the slide of success. No one was there to stop me from going down and never coming back up from the darkness. Thoughts just swarmed my head, I began swirling and losing control; I began not feeling like myself and not knowing how to act. This affected my friendships, grades, and relationships with my family. I didn’t feel right and I didn’t know how to make those feelings go away. I just assumed as I got older, I would naturally get sadder, lonelier, and lose my purpose in life. What point was there if I really had no one to trust or to turn to? If I constantly felt like everyday I was a burden to someone else, why should I still exist? I was so sad and I really felt like I couldn’t get help or that I needed it. Mental health is extremely important because I am honestly so scared of going back to a state of such isolation, loneliness, and sickening feelings. I began treating everyday normalities like rewards for myself. If I acted a certain way, then I would allow myself to eat. If not, I wouldn’t eat. I would deny myself basic rights in order to feel some sort of emotion. If I did something I believed was wrong or that would jeopardize my view of myself, I would punish myself. I threw up meal after meal if I scarfed it down. As my head was in the toilet and two fingers down my throat, I knew something was wrong. This couldn't be the way to live life. There had to be better ways. I maintain my mental health now by being precautious but still living life. I trust my intuition more than ever and do not rely on others' validation to feel happy. I believed for so long someone else had to make me happy or make me feel good in myself but that’s not the case. I believe my mental health is important because it directly impacts every aspect of my life, from my relationships and academic performance to my overall sense of well-being and fulfillment. Without good mental health, it becomes incredibly challenging to navigate the ups and downs of daily life, pursue my goals, and maintain healthy connections with others. Opening up about my struggles and seeking guidance not only provides me with valuable perspective but also reminds me that I'm not alone in my journey. Whether it's through therapy, counseling, or simply having meaningful conversations with loved ones, having a support system in place has been instrumental in my mental health journey. I've come to understand the importance of fostering a positive and compassionate inner dialogue. Instead of being overly critical or judgmental of myself, I practice self-compassion and remind myself that it's okay to not be okay sometimes. Learning to challenge negative thought patterns and cultivate a mindset of resilience and self-acceptance has been transformative in my quest for mental wellness.

As a young entrepreneur and advocate for environmental sustainability, I firmly believe in the transformative power of businesses to drive positive change in our world. My journey towards embracing sustainable business practices began with a simple summer project that evolved into a passion-driven endeavor to make a difference in our environment and communities. The summer I sewed swimsuits changed my life forever. What started as a casual exploration of sewing techniques through YouTube tutorials blossomed into the creation of That’s Nice Swim, a swimwear company founded on principles of sustainability, innovation, and social responsibility. Alongside my best friend, I embarked on a journey to build a business that not only offered high-quality products but also prioritized environmental conservation and ethical practices. At the core of our business model lay a commitment to sustainable sourcing. Recognizing the environmental impact of conventional production methods, we meticulously researched and selected materials that aligned with our values of environmental stewardship. From organic cotton to recycled fabrics, we prioritized materials that minimized waste, reduced pollution, and promoted renewable resources. By choosing sustainable materials, we aimed to not only create eco-friendly products but also set a precedent for responsible sourcing within the fashion industry. Energy efficiency emerged as another cornerstone of our sustainability efforts. Understanding the significance of energy consumption in manufacturing processes, we invested in energy-efficient technologies such as LED lighting and solar panels to minimize our carbon footprint. Additionally, we implemented measures to optimize energy usage, such as adopting remote work policies and implementing energy-saving practices in our workspace. Through these initiatives, we aimed to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and promote a culture of energy conservation within our business operations. Waste reduction and recycling formed the final pillar of our sustainable business practices. Recognizing the detrimental effects of single-use plastics and excessive packaging on the environment, we prioritized waste reduction and recycling initiatives throughout our supply chain. From minimizing packaging materials to promoting recycling and composting programs, we sought to minimize waste generation and promote circular economy principles. By adopting a holistic approach to waste management, we aimed to minimize our environmental impact while fostering a culture of sustainability within our business and community. Through our journey with That’s Nice Swim, I discovered the immense potential of businesses to drive positive change and create a more sustainable future for all. Our experience underscored the importance of integrating sustainability into business practices and the transformative impact it can have on the environment, economy, and society. As a young entrepreneur, I am committed to leveraging my passion for sustainability to inspire others and catalyze change within the business community. Receiving this scholarship would enable me to further pursue my academic and professional aspirations in the field of sustainability. With a focus on environmental studies and business administration, I aim to deepen my understanding of sustainability principles and explore innovative solutions to pressing environmental challenges. Armed with knowledge, passion, and determination, I aspire to become a catalyst for positive change and a leader in advancing sustainable business practices in our increasingly interconnected world. In conclusion, my journey towards embracing sustainable business practices has been a transformative experience that has shaped my values, aspirations, and outlook on the world. Through initiatives such as That’s Nice Swim, I have witnessed firsthand the power of businesses to drive positive change and create a more sustainable future for generations to come. With this scholarship, I am eager to continue my journey towards empowering environmental stewardship and making a meaningful difference in our world.

Title: "Good Luck Liv and Maddie: A Crossover Journey with Ethan" As a devoted fan of Disney Channel, I've always been captivated by the imaginative worlds and relatable characters of my favorite shows. Growing up, "Liv and Maddie" and "Good Luck Charlie" held special places in my heart, each offering unique stories and unforgettable moments that resonated with me on a personal level. In my own life, I've shared many memorable experiences with my older brother, Ethan, much like the dynamic between Liv and Maddie or Teddy and Charlie. Our bond is built on a foundation of shared laughter, friendly competition, and unwavering support for each other's dreams and aspirations. So, when news broke of a crossover event bringing together the beloved characters from "Liv and Maddie" and "Good Luck Charlie," I couldn't contain my excitement. The prospect of seeing Liv Rooney and Teddy Duncan share the screen in a musical extravaganza was a dream come true for a Disney Channel aficionado like myself. The episode, titled "Good Luck Liv and Maddie," begins with Liv Rooney, the talented actress from "Liv and Maddie," embarking on a new acting venture on a popular high school drama series. As Liv prepares for her role, I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation, knowing that her journey will intersect with that of Teddy Duncan, the eldest sibling from "Good Luck Charlie," who is filming a behind-the-scenes documentary about high school life. As the episode unfolds, I see echoes of my own relationship with Ethan in the mischievous antics of Parker Rooney and Gabe Duncan. Like Parker and Gabe, Ethan and I have always enjoyed pulling pranks and stirring up a bit of trouble, all in good fun, of course. Seeing their on-screen escapades brings back fond memories of our own brotherly adventures. But it's the musical duet between Liv and Teddy that truly steals the show, reminding me of the special bond Ethan and I share. Despite our differences, we've always supported each other's passions and celebrated each other's successes, much like Liv and Teddy do in the episode. Their performance is a powerful reminder of the magic that happens when people come together to create something truly special. As the credits roll on "Good Luck Liv and Maddie," I can't help but reflect on the parallels between their journey and my own experiences with Ethan. Just like Liv and Maddie, Teddy and Charlie, Ethan and I have navigated life's ups and downs together, growing closer with each passing day. And while our adventures may not always involve Hollywood studios or musical numbers, they're just as meaningful and memorable to me. In the end, "Good Luck Liv and Maddie" isn't just a crossover event; it's a celebration of the bonds that unite us and the joy that comes from sharing unforgettable moments with the ones we love. As I sit back and relive the magic of the episode, I'm reminded once again of the special connection Ethan and I share and the countless adventures that lie ahead for us, both on-screen and off.

One of my all-time favorite games to play in co-op mode is "Mario Kart" on the Nintendo Switch. It holds a special place in my heart because of the countless hours I spent playing it with my older brother, Ethan. Our gaming sessions were filled with fierce competition, laughter, and unforgettable moments that brought us closer together. Every weekend, Ethan and I would eagerly boot up "Mario Kart" and dive into epic races across vibrant tracks filled with twists, turns, and obstacles. From the iconic Rainbow Road to the treacherous Bowser's Castle, each track presented a new challenge that tested our racing skills to the limit. What made our "Mario Kart" sessions truly memorable was the intense rivalry that developed between us. As soon as the race began, it was every player for themselves as we jostled for position, unleashed devastating power-ups, and executed daring maneuvers to gain the upper hand. The stakes were high, but so was the fun. Despite our competitive nature, Ethan and I always approached the game with a sense of sportsmanship and camaraderie. We would exchange playful taunts and good-natured banter as we vied for victory, but at the end of the day, it was all in good fun. No matter who crossed the finish line first, we would congratulate each other on a race well-played and eagerly jump into the next one. Our "Mario Kart" sessions weren't just about winning or losing – they were about bonding and creating cherished memories together. Whether we were navigating treacherous shortcuts, dodging incoming shells, or pulling off last-minute victories, every race brought us closer together and strengthened our sibling bond. Looking back, some of my fondest memories with Ethan revolve around our epic "Mario Kart" battles. Those moments of friendly competition and shared excitement were more than just games – they were opportunities to connect, laugh, and create lasting memories that I'll treasure forever. Even now, whenever Ethan and I get together for a gaming session, "Mario Kart" is always at the top of our list. It's not just a game – it's a timeless classic that brings siblings closer together, one race at a time. And for that, I'll always be grateful.

Zendaya's multifaceted career serves as a shining example of how one can fearlessly navigate diverse paths, leveraging their passions and talents to effect meaningful change. As someone who has embarked on a journey of self-discovery and growth, I deeply resonate with Zendaya's commitment to activism, self-expression, and leadership across various domains. Throughout my academic journey at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA), and my previous leadership roles at Abraham Lincoln High School, including as President of both the National Honor Society and Key Club, I've cultivated a profound appreciation for community engagement and social advocacy. These experiences have not only shaped my understanding of effective leadership but have also instilled in me a strong sense of responsibility to uplift and empower those around me. In my capacity as the Career and Development Director and Head of Merchandise at Chi Omega, Gamma Beta, I've had the privilege of fostering inclusive environments where members can thrive and grow. Through initiatives aimed at professional development and community outreach, I've witnessed firsthand the transformative power of collective action and collaboration. Furthermore, my internships at HER Campus Media and Besa Mi Vida have provided me with invaluable opportunities to harness my creative talents as a graphic designer, collaborating with teams to develop impactful marketing materials and brand concepts that resonate with diverse audiences. Beyond the confines of academia and professional pursuits, I've remained deeply committed to community service and advocacy. Whether it's volunteering at organizations like Pajama Program and Adopteen or serving as a Campus Marketing Intern at The HanglooseHut, I've sought to leverage my skills and experiences to make a tangible difference in the lives of others. These experiences have not only broadened my perspective but have also reinforced my belief in the power of empathy and compassion to drive positive change. Moreover, my roles as a Seasonal Stylist at Kendra Scott and Caterer/Organizer at Moba Tea have equipped me with invaluable interpersonal and organizational skills, allowing me to thrive in dynamic environments and cultivate meaningful connections with customers and colleagues alike. These experiences have not only honed my ability to navigate complex challenges but have also instilled in me a deep sense of resilience and adaptability. In essence, my diverse experiences mirror Zendaya's multifaceted career, highlighting the importance of authenticity, resilience, and empathy in effecting positive change. As I continue to pursue my academic and professional aspirations, I remain inspired by Zendaya's unwavering commitment to using her platform for good, and I am eager to follow in her footsteps as a catalyst for positive change in my own community and beyond. Through my ongoing commitment to advocacy, creativity, and leadership, I am confident in my ability to make a meaningful impact and contribute to a more just and equitable society.

Realizing that I didn't fit into the societal norm was a profound realization for me. The stares my family received whenever we entered a room made me feel alienated for a while. As an adoptee from China, I was constantly aware of others like me and those who were marginalized. Witnessing people being excluded, whether they were classmates, peers, or strangers, struck a chord with me because I could relate to their experience. With the help of support and a nurturing environment, I eventually embraced my identity. Yet, this acceptance didn't mean I would stand idly by while others struggled to find their place. I made a commitment to never overlook exclusion and to stand up for those who experienced it. Growing up, it didn't occur to me that my family looked different from me until I was older. I came to appreciate the uniqueness of my family and the challenges we sometimes faced due to societal judgments. From overt discrimination like having to clarify that we were indeed together, to more subtle instances of feeling unwelcome, I learned to navigate through these experiences with a heightened self-awareness. While the intentions behind these actions weren't always malicious, the feeling of not belonging lingered. Fortunately, I was fortunate to be surrounded by understanding friends and family who helped shape my perspective on acceptance and inclusion. In my roles within various organizations, I strive to foster an environment of inclusivity and positivity. Mere words aren't enough; genuine actions are required to demonstrate that everyone is truly welcome. Currently serving as co-president of my school's National Honor Society, I prioritize ensuring that every member feels valued and heard. I actively encourage questions and seek input to create a space where everyone feels comfortable sharing their experiences. Building meaningful relationships with members is essential, as it reflects the support I would have appreciated as an underclassman. Exclusion based on differences such as appearance, race, gender, identity, or religion is unjustifiable, yet unfortunately prevalent. My own encounters with prejudice have led me to challenge and reject any form of discrimination. I firmly believe that individuals should never be reduced to stereotypes or superficial judgments. Just as I wouldn't want to be judged solely based on my ethnicity, I refuse to perpetuate such biases onto others. Drawing from my personal journey, I recognize the importance of valuing people beyond their outward appearances. Although being adopted is just one aspect of my identity, it has profoundly shaped my worldview. The experiences and insights it has afforded me are invaluable, and I am grateful for the diverse perspectives that have enriched my life. I am committed to carrying forward the lessons learned from my upbringing, advocating for inclusivity, and embracing the uniqueness of every individual I encounter.

In the crisp autumn air, I stood in line at Starbucks, all bundled up in my favorite green and blue striped sweater. My mom and I decided to treat ourselves to a little warmth on this chilly day. Every Sunday we’d stroll through the neighborhood and end up at our local starbucks. It was our little tradition. As I approached the counter, I looked up at the menu, my eyes wide with wonder. I'd always loved the colorful chalkboard filled with words I couldn't quite read, but I knew it meant delicious things were in store. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans and brewed teas filled the air. I tugged on my mom's coat, excitedly pointing at a picture of a Starbucks Vanilla Bean Crème Frappuccino, the one thing I could read knowing it didn't have any “caffeine” in it as my mom would say I wasn’t allowed to have “caffeine” yet. "Mom, can I have this one, pleeeease?" I asked, my voice filled with anticipation. My mom smiled down at me and said, "Of course, sweetie. We'll share it together." A Vanilla Bean Creme Frappuccino became a character in my own fall narrative. We'd sit at a cozy corner table, our drinks in hand, and watch the world outside change its colors. The drink, with its creamy vanilla goodness, became our secret potion, filling our hearts with warmth and love. It would be our little sweet treat we’d share together every celebration, whether it was my 5th grade graduation, after I lost my last tooth, or whenever she wanted something to celebrate. As I grew older, our mother-daughter moments at Starbucks became even more precious. We'd talk about school, friends, and dreams while sipping our Vanilla Bean Frappuccinos. It was in those moments that I realized how much my mom cared for me, and how her love was as sweet and comforting as the fall-inspired drink we shared. As I moved away to college, we no longer could have those special moments together. They’d come less and less often but it didn’t take away from the specialness of the drink. I’d still order it whenever I could, remembering the taste and feeling of love from her. The Vanilla Bean Crème Frappuccino was not just a drink; it was a symbol of our bond. It reminded me of the cozy, sweater-weather days spent with my mom, where the world outside may have been getting colder, but my heart was warm. Now, as the leaves fall and autumn returns, I can't help but smile when I see the Starbucks sign. The Vanilla Bean Crème Frappuccino is not just a drink; it's a memory of love and togetherness. It's the taste of fall and the warmth of my mom's embrace, all blended into one sweet, unforgettable experience.

While Team Conrad seems like the obvious choice with his characteristics being displayed as the loving, protective brother, comparing him to Jeremiah, it doesn’t make sense to defend the restless and erratic character. In Belly’s position, she is looking for someone consistent and supportive of her. With her parent's divorce, she’s constantly looking for a source of safety and a home. Conrad may offer that at first but he is selfish and takes moments away from Belly to focus on himself. However, Jeremiah is seemingly the perfect fit for Belly as he has never pushed her aside or treated her as a secondary priority. Conrad’s character is determined and resilient. He welcomes Belly when she arrives with her family to the beach house. He sets his focus aside at the beach bonfire party and stands up for Belly, seeing she is feeling uncomfortable. We want to root for this; this figure that protects Belly from harm at all costs. However, his forceful behavior makes matters worse and ruins the night for everyone. Belly’s mom is stressed and worried about Jeremiah, Belly, Conrad, and Steven. It is Jeremiah who calms Laurel down when she confronts them all. It is Jeremiah who bears the responsibility and apologizes for the whole group. Conrad could never carry that responsibility because he feels almost too righteous in his actions. He believed himself the right to cause a scene at the bonfire while Jeremiah would never. Conrad’s character arc is interesting to denote as he becomes more compassionate over the serious. His ability to learn from his mistakes and reflect on his past actions to better himself and the people around him is admirable but he comes too late at this realization. When Belly and him essentially date when he's at college, he’s leading her on and pretending to be something he is not. He is not ready to commit to her fully with the dedication and respect Belly deserves. Jeremiah stands out because of his charisma and intuition. His ability to empathize with almost everyone in the room is honorable. He feels for Skye and invites Skye into the group. He sits down for his mother’s paintings and makes time for her while Conrad sulks and wants to ignore her. Throughout the series, he offers his support for Steven, his mom, Conrad, and Belly. He becomes the gentleman Belly desires and takes care of the families with his wise counsel. His qualities outshine the other characters because he is altruistic and sets his own needs and desires aside for others when he doesn't have to. Team Jeremiah represents the better side of humanity. The kindness we all want to see on screens and the kindness others around feel good about. Everyone who interacts with Jeremiah leaves with a smile on their face. His Golden Retriever energy radiates whenever he speaks and his generosity to Belly is sincere. Team Jeremiah stands for all that is good in the world.

My parents used to call me a “barnacle” for the way I would cling to my mom. As a kid, I found comfort being held high, wrapped in her arms. I never wanted her to set me on the ground where her warmth would be five feet above me and her love replaced with a fear of abandonment in my mind. I needed to be with someone. I was adopted from China in 2004 when I was ten months old. Growing up, I imagined this made-up agreement where I have an IOU with my parents: you adopted me, I owe you. Everything my parents have given me I felt like I owed back. The feelings loomed over me, embedded in my mind making it almost seem like I “owed”. Being part of an adopted family, I’ve used the experiences I’ve faced to see how my perspective could help me help others. My family shaped me to be accepting and inclusive to all, allowing me to help those who need a guiding hand. I’ve tried to be proactive in recognizing others like me (both adopted and others still figuring out who they are), feeling their sentiments personally. Two summers ago, I was a virtual camp counselor for Adopteen, an adoption support program. I wanted to be a friend, a person that could reach others like me. Becoming a camp leader became the catalyst for me to substitute my innate inhibitions for the freedom to talk through the emotional discomfort that burdened my mind. I led a small group of five incredible adoptees, adopted from places covering China to Haiti. It was enlightening to feel connected on another level. Truthfully, I had never reflected on my adoption before. I wasn’t used to talking about it so openly and vulnerably, so I struggled with it. I viewed my adoption with negligence, tossing it to a corner of my mind. By dismissing it, I thought I would fit in with my family. But because these girls had been ready to process their thoughts, I was reassured I could too. We discussed looking different from our families, dealing with racism, and combating internal struggles. The conversations could’ve turned solemn but the girls were proud to be adopted and looked optimistically at their situations. I found myself idolizing their self-assurance as I wasn’t in this alone anymore. I began to value my emotions as unique resources to help others accept and process their complex perceptions about adoption. Leading discussions with my campers about their feelings of owing their parents, I realized that what they were describing didn’t sound like IOUs at all. Each one revealed their interpretations of their adoptions, embracing their struggles and joy. Through all of that, they all found their happiness, despite what they’ve seen or felt in the past. I picked up on these reflections and felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Being adopted is an important part of my identity that I needed to understand to help me continue to be better at empathizing with others. My reflections and realizations during camp provided a paradigm shift in my mindset regarding my adoption; an IOU can take many shapes and forms. The IOU that I’ve always felt was actually appreciation.

Some of my favorite Taylor Swift songs are songs that she doesn’t even sing. “We’re all together,” my small hand interjected as I came from behind my parents' legs, hiding. I caught the waiter’s confused expression at my mismatched family and my almond-shaped eyes, one I had seen one too many times. I remember having to save face in front of my family over and over again because I was Chinese and all three of them were Caucasian. From a young age, it always took one too many moments for it to register in people’s heads. The elephant in the room. The one that everyone tries to ignore, but really feels like a billion shotguns in my face. How was I supposed to act then? What was she doing with them? “Babe” and “Better Man” are performed by Sugarland and Little Big Town but written by Taylor. I’m able to hear the lyrics more clearly, visualizing Taylor writing these songs and putting herself in another character’s life. She’s able to write for another voice, another person, empathizing and hearing their thoughts. If she wrote for herself, it would be her song. Instead, she has to become another person; pursue a new conscience and purpose in life. When she does, she still can write her soul into these songs and tell a new story, still embodying Taylor’s spirit in her lyrics. Her inspiring ability to weave a new melody by combining all the elements she’s given. I was navigating the delicate equilibrium between my Chinese heritage and the Caucasian environment that enveloped me. Which side would I choose to pacify my audience? Do I even try to ignore my hurt feelings when my family says, “No, I don’t like Asian food?” Or do I try and smile extra hard at people who recognize me as one of their own but I’m pulled apart. This unique ability caused hundreds of two paint splatters on a blank canvas, battling it out. I felt blue one day then red when I was judged. The facets of my identity grew diametrically opposed with every encounter. I felt torn between the two, the only person suffering under this burden. I was performing a two-man act my entire life. But then I remembered, there are 10 different Taylors. There are 10 different eras. Reputation. Speak Now. 1989. Folklore. Midnights…. If she could have so many personalities—all so different, but also, all her—so could I. And yet they were all Taylor. They symbolized different stages of her life and how she was present at that time but can also move on and begin anew. It represented my stages of life, my eras, and myself. I combined both bits of what made up me and I began feeling more confident, grappling with both the identities I had been given. Taylor Swift doesn't overpower any one song, but all the songs would be incomplete without her. Her ideology and music became this monumental bridge that connected my emotions and action. Her lyrics began weaving a new outlook on life and a new soapbox I could stand on. I could be Chinese and American and Adopted and left-handed.

My parents used to call me a “barnacle” for the way I would cling to my mom. As a kid, I found comfort being held high, wrapped in her arms. I never wanted her to set me on the ground where her warmth would be five feet above me and her love replaced with a fear of abandonment in my mind. I always wanted to be with someone. I was adopted from China in 2004 when I was ten months old. Growing up, I imagined this made-up agreement where I have an IOU with my parents: you adopted me, I owe you. Everything my parents have given me I felt like I owed back. The feelings loomed over me, embedded in my mind making it almost seem like I “owed” them dismissing my adoption. It was extra baggage, excess conversations, and superfluous information that seemed better to go ignored in my life. When I was five, my mom and I were in a restaurant bathroom. While I was washing my hands, an Asian woman turned to my mom and smiled, glancing at me. The lady said enthusiastically, “I was raised by white people too!” We find this moment hilarious because the qualifying candidates that would fit are very slim but, by chance, we connected with another adoptee. The memory is a reminder of a small part of me that wanted to meet other adoptees. Being part of an adopted family, I’ve used the experiences I’ve faced to see how my perspective could help me help others. My family shaped me to be accepting and inclusive to all, allowing me to help those who need a guiding hand. I’ve tried to be proactive in recognizing others like me (both adopted and others still figuring out who they are), feeling their sentiments personally. Last summer, I applied for the position of virtual camp counselor for Adopteen, an adoption support program. I looked forward to meeting others like me, recalling what the woman in the bathroom had said. Becoming a camp leader became the catalyst for me to substitute my innate inhibitions for the freedom to talk through the emotional discomfort that burdened my mind. I led a small group of five incredible adoptees. I wasn’t used to talking about it so openly and vulnerably, so I struggled with it. By dismissing it, I thought I would fit in with my family. But because these girls had been ready to process their thoughts, I was reassured I could too. We discussed looking different from our families, dealing with racism, and combating internal struggles. The conversations could’ve turned solemn but the girls were proud to be adopted and looked optimistically at their situations. I began to value my emotions as unique resources to help others accept and process their complex perceptions about adoption. Leading discussions with my campers about their feelings of owing their parents, I realized that what they were describing didn’t sound like IOUs at all. Each one revealed their interpretations of their adoptions, embracing their struggles and joy. Through all of that, they all found their happiness, despite what they’ve seen or felt in the past. I picked up on these reflections and felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Being adopted is an important part of my identity that I needed to understand to help me continue to be better at empathizing with others. My reflections and realizations during camp provided a paradigm shift in my mindset regarding my adoption; an IOU can take many shapes and forms. The IOU that I’ve always felt was actually appreciation.

College is the next stepping stone in life. Or at least, I’ve always viewed it like that. “Only four more years to go. And then college,” my dad chuckled on the first day of my freshman year of high school. “You’ll enjoy college life,” my mom would say cheerfully. My mentality growing up was convergent around college, going unquestioned. As I got older, I challenged it slightly. What would a degree actually get me? A guaranteed job? No. A one-way ticket to a $100k salary? No. More likely I’ll end up in debt, still confused about my place in the world. I certainly felt this way after my sophomore year of high school—utterly confused about the point of college. It wasn’t until a whim of curiosity and introspective reflection did I understand the value of college. Nearing the end of sophomore year, after enduring finals, I looked enviously towards summer. Yet, something had captivated me that would derail my aimless summer; I felt this impulse to take American Sign Language. I didn’t know where and how but at the last minute, I got my foot in the door and found myself enrolled in a course over the summer at my local community college. I had known some sign language as a child, but only the alphabet and a few phrases. The summer course was extraordinary. I thrived in the independence, self-governing, and social aspects. I weaved my schedule around the lectures and prepared myself for tests that I was genuinely enthralled by. The class was entirely new and exciting, and as I passed my first college final it all came together in my mind. I had proactively sought a course I was interested in, received an education, and felt satisfied. High school is generic and standardized, whereas college is unbounded, subjective, and consists of what you made of it. High school lets me see glimpses of potential prospects, but my sample of college provided me the opportunity to choose what interested me. College enables me to hone in on my specific chosen curiosities and passions and that’s invaluable and unique. I could study virtually anything. With that possibility and capability at my fingertips, I could be like Stella Mccartney and follow my childhood dream of becoming a fashion designer. In my AP Environmental Science class, I’m learning about harmful human emissions and textile waste, but most importantly, how to prevent it. I can apply that to my designs and the future of the fashion industry. I’ve found exceptional programs instituted at schools across the country that could aid my drive to relieve the environment and sustain the fashion industry. College isn’t the next stepping stone in life. It’s a path put forth as a possible path, yet I’ve found it as a valuable conduit through my experiences and plan to extend my education to my endeavors, knowing fully well I educated myself to the best of my ability. The future is so exhilarating.

I’ve felt like I’ve lived with an IOU hanging over my head my entire life. I was adopted from China in 2004 when I was 10 months old. For as long as I can remember, I imagined this made-up agreement where I have an IOU with my parents: you adopted me, I owe you. My challenge has always been gauging the extent to which I should go to repay the debt that I feel. Last summer I spontaneously applied for the position of a virtual camp counselor for Adopteen, an adoption support program. I actually forgot there were others just like me, following the same journey as mine. Becoming a counselor became the spark for me to substitute my innate inhibitions for the freedom to talk through the emotional discomfort that burdened my mind. Speaking with my campers about our confusion about racism, looking different from our families, and describing our collective IOUs, I realized we didn't need to be in this alone. I began to value my emotions as unique resources to help others accept and process their complex feelings about adoption. Leading discussions with my campers about their perceived IOUs, I realized that what they were describing didn’t truly sound like IOUs at all; it sounded like they had each felt content with their own interpretations of their adoptions. This provided an important paradigm shift in my mindset regarding my own adoption; an IOU can take many shapes and forms. The IOU that I’ve always felt, was actually appreciation.

From a young age, I’ve been in love with the art of fashion. Over my junior summer, I created my own socially conscious swimsuit business and had immeasurable good field experience. We hand sewed every suit and donated over $300 to Water.org, solidifying my passion for fashion. I’d like to pursue fashion business and management with an emphasis on the environment post-college. The opportunities for environmentally conscious apparel lines are endless and a very important part of my aspirations. In my junior year, I opened a shop on Depop, an e-commerce fashion marketplace. I created it to be distinctively mine, applying all my DIY hacks to the layout, design, and execution of the storefront. I sold over 90 upcycled items and original pieces, honored that others enjoyed my concept, too. My daily routine was to wake up, view the sales, package items, and ship— all before breakfast. I channeled my joy of sewing into my shop, and fostered a renewed pride in my designs. This solidified my emphasis on upcycling and keeping an environmentally conscious mindset. Owning a sustainable fashion brand of my designs, sourcing, manufacturing, and mission is my goal. Especially with rising environmental awareness, I want to integrate that into the world of fashion in my own company, or workspace.

To lead is to exhibit passion. There’s no enthusiasm or truth behind unpassionate work. Being adopted opens a whole new world of opportunities, people, and stories. Over the summer, I became a virtual camp counselor for the Adopteen Virtual Camp. Although adoption was never something I had wanted to tell others about, the position allowed me to meet, hear, and see other adoptees. The camp directors speak about bullying, skepticism, and discomfort, instilled aspirations in me; I was drawn to it. The revelation of others sharing similar experiences made it all the more reason for me to be the best leader for younger adoptees that I could be. The other camp leaders and I were assigned adoptees who would be in our small group. On the morning of the first camp day, I met my small group. Elation filled me up as their little faces at the Zoom meeting popped up. The moment of truth came when I spoke, “Hi everyone! My name is Emma and I’m adopted from China!” It may not seem bold, but for me, it was extremely vulnerable to share that with strangers. The tweens looked back at me and then started introducing themselves. The itinerary was jam-packed but I swiftly took charge, with as much enthusiasm as I could, to guide my group through conversations of abandonment, silencing, and values. I extended the conversation to the shyest one, watching the boundaries because I knew what it felt like to be quiet. Each conversation we had was opening a new Pandora's Box. I didn't shy away at all; if anything, it empowered me to be more honest. I gained more confidence as each camper shared their story and it continued to show in my leadership skills. It was challenging to remain lighthearted with topics of hardship, but I truly believed it was vital for them to hear and meet others out there going through the same thing. My newfound passion for adoption made me a better leader because I was present and focused on hearing and responding to the campers with a purpose of solidarity.

A French seam in sewing is where you hide a raw edge from sight. It’s supposed to tidy up the look of the garment, and hide anything that’s less than satisfactory. After a middle-school classmate declared my hand-sewn dress “garbage bag-esque”, I attempted to keep my sewing private out of embarrassment, hurt by the critique. Like a French seam, I hid my sewing hobby to appear acceptable. However, after hiding my sewing for years, I wanted to show my self-expression to others. My mini-fashion shows in front of my dog just didn’t cut it anymore. In my junior year, I opened a shop on Depop, an e-commerce fashion marketplace. I created it to be distinctively mine, applying all my DIY hacks to the layout, design, and execution of the storefront. I sold over 90 upcycled items and original pieces, honored that others enjoyed my concept, too. My daily routine was to wake up, view the sales, package items, and ship— all before breakfast. I channeled my joy of sewing into my shop, and fostered a renewed pride in my designs. Over the summer, I worked at Camp Fashionista, a fashion camp for kids. I spent my weeks supporting the students as they learned to sew. The campers had no problem being brash and bold, and didn’t fear ridicule or mistakes. At only eight years old, the campers unwittingly taught me to try out challenging styles and to not fear judgement. In the past, I allowed self-doubt and naysayers to prevent me from being proud of my sewing. In learning that there was really nothing to hide, I felt a freedom to explore nuances of sewing and design and take lessons from unexpected places. French seams can be beautiful, but I realized not all raw edges need to be concealed.

Everyone has dreams of creating something. I think I've dreamt up an unorthodox path that interests me in a parasocial relationship way: a public-relation lawyer. I might have made this up, imagining an Elle Woods lifestyle, but I think it contributes something to more than just a company or myself. Legally Blonde took something as simple and mundane as being a lawyer and broke social stereotypes of what a lawyer looked like and acted which encouraged me to mull over this idea. To start, I would want to study morals and ethics to guide me, and allow me to fully understand the questions and viewpoints in consideration. Law has always intrigued me because the debate is rigorously intellectual and ends with tangible results. However, there is a robotic, isolated, devoid-of-humanity aspect to it that doesn't interest me. I would feel too attached to individual clients as an attorney or prosecutor which would destroy the case. Leading me back to my original dreams of owning a fashion company of some sort. Combining those ultimately drew me to the conclusion of a public relations lawyer. Hopefully, there is a field for that. I want to legally advise companies and mitigate future media scandals. This could cover from environmental propositions to manufacturing to advertising and public image. Once a company is given a platform of influence, it is up to them to not only please the people on wall street but the customers. My goal is to make an impact in my field. My passions can turn the tide for environmental protection in the fashion industry.

Bear is my best friend. And he’s a dog. Growing up, I realized friendship is an essence in a relationship. My friendship meant I learned from Bear, as an eager student and a silent teacher. We adopted Bear when he was 7 weeks old and I instantly fell in love, as one would cradling a tiny, English labrador puppy. I was adopted from China when I was 10 months old. I always felt a bit out of place being adopted; out of sorts and sorting my emotions. I felt an attachment with Bear as soon as we got him. When we got home from his adoption, Bear was stuck to my side. He was timid, cautious, and worried which I’m afraid he picked up from me. However, we both progressed. Together, we gained confidence and curiosity. He explored the roses in the backyard and learned not to get too close and I made a new friend on the first day of high school. He eventually learned to love baths and I found a way to thrive in school clubs. Although he didn’t speak, Bear had the best wisdom and advice. I gained the insight that I could be happiest with the people and animals around me, rather than seeking sadness. I built a stronger bond with my family because of Bear. We went on Bear-specific adventures and made hotel stays pet friendly for him because he bettered all of us in the end. A piece of me will always owe, care, and love him forever. He silently taught me invaluable lessons of patience, introspectiveness, and love. He never felt out of place, giving me a role model of how I could feel. It goes to show how much two-way love can impact lives.

A French seam in sewing is where you hide a raw edge from sight. It’s supposed to tidy up the look of the garment, and hide anything that’s less than satisfactory. I love sewing and I found French seams to be nearly vital to my passion. I loved the excitement and rush of adrenaline I got when my head was spinning with fashion inspiration. I bolted to my sketchbook after an episode of Project Runway (which heavily inspired some of my Avant-Garde designs). In middle school, I began designing and sewing my own dresses for the middle school dance. It was like a Cinderella moment for me, walking into the flashing lights with my handsewed dress. After a classmate declared my dress “garbage bag-esque” at the dance, my heart shattered. I then attempted to keep my sewing private out of embarrassment, hurt by the critique. Like a French seam, I hid my sewing hobby to appear acceptable. However, after hiding my sewing for years, I wanted to show my self-expression to others. My mini-fashion shows in front of my dog just didn’t cut it anymore. In my junior year, I opened a shop on Depop, an e-commerce fashion marketplace. I created it to be distinctively mine, applying all my DIY hacks to the layout, design, and execution of the storefront. I sold over 90 upcycled items and original pieces, honored that others enjoyed my concept, too. My daily routine was to wake up, view the sales, package items, and ship— all before breakfast. I channeled my joy of sewing into my shop, and fostered a renewed pride in my designs. With this new-found confidence, I was itching to share this passion with those around me. I began feeling less worried about judgment and began feeling more worried about constantly hiding my designs, my sewing, essentially myself. Over the summer, I worked at Camp Fashionista, a fashion camp for kids. I spent my weeks supporting the students as they learned to sew. The campers had no problem being brash and bold, and didn’t fear ridicule or mistakes. They would wholeheartedly boast about their hand-sewed, and sometimes unrecognizable, creations. At only eight years old, the campers unwittingly taught me to try out challenging styles and to not fear judgement. In the past, I allowed self-doubt and naysayers to prevent me from being proud of my sewing. In learning that there was really nothing to hide, I felt a freedom to explore nuances of sewing and design and take lessons from unexpected places. I loved the world of fashion and the environments it created. The freedom of pure expression was something I couldn’t quite marginalize. French seams can be beautiful, but I realized not all raw edges need to be concealed.

‘You are safe. You are loved. You are protected’. No matter what, I will always remember these words. Props to my mom for the anaphora. I don't think she meant to have didactic intentions as it was more of a mantra she soothed to put me at ease when I was younger and scared of the monsters under my bed. However, the lesson stuck. As I got older and observed in movies or books about support systems, a lot of them were nonexistent. I’m humbled to even be given an affirming, caring, family and I can only wish that upon anyone else. From youth and on, I implored myself to step out of my timid comfort zone and seek to make other people, safe, loved and protected just as I had been. I’ll forever look for the lonelier person in a crowd, or proffer a question to the new kid. It’s something I had, that I want to extend a hand to someone else and I’ll always have that in the back of my mind. This transferred, even, into my works. My goal is to make a positive, environmental impact and I now see, to achieve this, I must apply the same mantra into this world. To continue building, perhaps, a company that supplies good work wages and uses sustainable manufacturing products, the people around me need to feel safe, loved, and protected. I can offer that as the building blocks of a work community to further my aspirations.

Over the summer, I created my own socially conscious swimsuit business and had immeasurable good field experience. The opportunities for environmentally conscious apparel lines are endless and a very important part of my aspirations. Owning a sustainable fashion brand of my designs, sourcing, manufacturing, and mission is my goal. Especially with rising environmental awareness, I want to integrate that into the world of fashion in my own company, or workspace. Knowing I can be prepared with the knowledge I need in life in college motivates me to work even harder to ascertain my bachelor’s degree in Fashion management or Business Administration with an emphasis on Sustainability. I would like to earn my Master’s degree in Business Administration in the future, to equip me for situations in the real-world. I’m so excited to continue my journey meeting people and soaking up every experience I can to better the people around me.

Sewing made me happy. Key word, made. After a middle-school classmate declared my hand-sewn dress “garbage bag-esque”, I attempted to keep my sewing private out of embarrassment, hurt by the critique. However, after hiding my sewing for years, I wanted to show my self-expression to others. My mini-fashion shows in front of my dog just didn’t cut it anymore. In my junior year, I opened a shop on Depop, an e-commerce fashion marketplace. I created it to be distinctively mine, applying all my DIY hacks to the layout, design, and execution of the storefront. I sold over 90 upcycled items and original pieces, honored that others enjoyed my concept, too. My daily routine was to wake up, view the sales, package items, and ship— all before breakfast. I channeled my joy of sewing into my shop, and fostered a renewed pride in my designs. With this new-found confidence, I was itching to share this passion with those around me. I began feeling less worried about judgment and began feeling more worried about constantly hiding my designs, my sewing, essentially myself. Over the summer, I worked at Camp Fashionista, a fashion camp for kids. I spent my weeks supporting the students as they learned to sew. The campers had no problem being brash and bold, and didn’t fear ridicule or mistakes. They would wholeheartedly boast about their hand-sewed, and sometimes unrecognizable, creations. At only eight years old, the campers unwittingly taught me to try out challenging styles and to not fear judgement. In the past, I allowed self-doubt and naysayers to prevent me from being proud of my sewing. In learning that there was really nothing to hide, I felt a freedom to explore nuances of sewing and design and enjoy it once again.

I’ve felt like I’ve lived with an IOU hanging over my head my entire life. I was adopted from China in 2004 when I was 10 months old. I imagined this made-up agreement where I have an IOU with my parents: you adopted me, I owe you. My challenge has always been gauging the extent to which I should go to repay the debt that I feel. I also believed that I owed my non-adopted brother a normal childhood, so I tried to fit the status quo growing up. Instead of attending Chinese classes with my family every Saturday, I preferred staying home and watching Clifford the Big Red Dog with them. Even though my family wanted to go to the classes, deep down I knew they wouldn’t be attending those “Mandarin mornings” if not for me. Last summer I spontaneously applied for the position of a virtual camp counselor for Adopteen, an adoption support program. Becoming a counselor became the spark for me to substitute my innate inhibitions for the freedom to talk through the emotional discomfort that burdened my mind. Speaking with my campers about our confusion about racism, looking different from our families, and describing our collective IOUs, I realized we didn't need to be in this alone. I began to value my emotions as unique resources to help others accept and process their complex feelings about adoption. Leading discussions with my campers about their perceived IOUs, I realized that what they were describing didn’t truly sound like IOUs at all; it sounded like they had each felt content with their own interpretations of their adoptions. This provided an important paradigm shift in my mindset regarding my own adoption; an IOU can take many shapes and forms. The IOU that I’ve always felt, was actually appreciation.

Over the summer of 2021, I started a swimwear company with my best friend. We finally said, “you only live once”, and began our swimwear company, That’s Nice Swim. We had goals we needed to establish; to provide affordable swimwear to all girls and women. Our company stood for inclusivity and reducing waste to minimize our environmental footprint while keeping reducing, reusing, and recycling in mind. Assiduously, we created a brand from scratch; the perfect model of what I dreamed of. Noticing larger brands like Urban Outfitters and Pacsun had never given back, we wanted to stand out from the competition. After much research into an organization, we landed on Water.org as our foundation. While being related to water and helping those in need, we had our fully formed business. That’s Nice Swim donated 20% of all profits to the non-profit organization, Water.org, and each item was hand-sewn. We ran our business mainly for fun; to test the waters of entrepreneurship and curated our passions into one outlet. I hadn’t realized I loved the business so much until I was at the helm of a fully functioning small business with$1.4k in profits and $354 donated. My summer passion had turned into a potential livelihood before my eyes. I believe this summer project helped solidify what I wanted to do in life. At 17, I managed to build my dream and execute it, with some bumps in the road, but in totality and satisfaction. I absorbed as much information from the accountant we were honored with speaking too and the experience was better than I could’ve ever imagined, confirming my passion for fashion entrepreneurship.

I flipped the crinkled page and blew the dust off the page, uncovering a treasure chest of floral patterns on a curved silhouette. The Vogue book wasn't a magazine, it was a masterpiece of countless designs and the behind the scenes thinking behind iconic outfits. Each paragraph held the key to personal fashion where my 10 year-old-self closer to the design and creator of it. From a young age, I’ve been in love with the art of fashion. I used to read about these. Over the summer, I created my own socially conscious swimsuit business and had immeasurable good field experience. We hand sewed every suit and donated over $300 to Water.org, solidifying my passion for fashion. I’d like to pursue fashion business and management with an emphasis on the environment post-college. The opportunities for environmentally conscious apparel lines are endless and a very important part of my aspirations. Owning a sustainable fashion brand of my designs, sourcing, manufacturing, and mission is my goal. Especially with rising environmental awareness, I want to integrate that into the world of fashion in my own company, or workspace.

Volunteering is a unique type of work because it costs nothing. It’s an altruistic principle that exhibits the good of humanity in a time where that is infrequent. It's hard to see your impact until you take a step back. When the pandemic hit, I had a lot of time for self-reflection and growth. There was all this time on my hands and no creative outlet. I was looking for something, and serendipity struck, and I stumbled upon exactly what I was looking for on social media. It was a non-profit by local students at another high school called Thinking Of You Cards. They were a card-making organization arranging card drop-off zones to patients, doctors, and nurses. Immediately, I was intrigued. I had to learn more. I emailed them quickly, wanting to make cards ASAP. I created my first batch of cards while in between my classes, enjoying the cathartic coloring exercise. I dropped off the cards and went home to make more. The tug to continue with this project was innate. I didn't know anyone in this organization, but I felt I just had to continue. I applied an application to the board and became the Graphic Designer. With my 10 hours of work on cards, I was honored to be the design head. Our cards went all around my community to hospitals, clinics, and fire stations: the front-line workers. The impact reached medical centers and beyond. It was so important to me to spread this organization because I know there were other students out there looking for a way to share their gratitude to those who were risking their lives for everyone. They just might not know how to yet. I brought this organization to my school clubs, Key Club, and National Honor Society. As co-president of both, I encouraged students to create cards. And students did! Students from all grades created cards thanking those workers and wishing well to patients. Each card was going to brighten someone's day, because just knowing a neighbor, or friend, is thinking of them, is a blessing. I know when my relative was in the hospital a few months prior, it was dreary, but at least we were able to visit. Now more than ever, with patients unable to see loved ones, cards with sincere notes were exponentially more important for patients to remain hopeful. The saying, “Leave a place better than when you found it”, stands as a mantra I strongly believe in. Spreading a small act of kindness is something that no one regrets. Knowledge of how to do that is equally important. I continue this important work because there is so much work to be done in the community, and I want to chip away at it in any way I can and spread goodwill.

A French seam in sewing is where you hide a raw edge from sight. It’s supposed to tidy up the look of the garment, and hide anything that’s less than satisfactory. After a middle-school classmate declared my hand-sewn dress “garbage bag-esque”, I attempted to keep my sewing private out of embarrassment, hurt by the critique. Like a French seam, I hid my sewing hobby to appear acceptable, devoid of joy. However, after hiding my sewing for years, I wanted to show my self-expression to others. My mini-fashion shows in front of my dog just didn’t cut it anymore. I was itching to share this passion with those around me. I began feeling less worried about judgment and began feeling more worried about constantly hiding my designs, my sewing, essentially myself. Over the summer, I worked at Camp Fashionista, a fashion camp for kids. I spent my weeks supporting the students as they learned to sew. The campers had no problem being brash and bold, and didn’t fear ridicule or mistakes. They would wholeheartedly boast about their hand-sewed, and sometimes unrecognizable, creations. At only eight years old, the campers unwittingly taught me to try out challenging styles and to not fear judgement. In the past, I allowed self-doubt and naysayers to prevent me from being proud of my sewing. In learning that there was really nothing to hide, I felt a freedom to explore nuances of sewing and design and take lessons from unexpected places. French seams can be beautiful, but I realized not all raw edges need to be concealed.

I’ve felt like I’ve lived with an IOU hanging over my head my entire life. I was adopted from China in 2004 when I was 10 months old. For as long as I can remember, I imagined this made-up agreement where I have an IOU with my parents: you adopted me, I owe you. My challenge has always been gauging the extent to which I should go to repay the debt that I feel. I also believed that I owed my non-adopted brother a normal childhood, so I tried to fit the status quo growing up. Instead of attending Chinese classes with my family every Saturday, I preferred staying home and watching Clifford the Big Red Dog with them. Even though my family wanted to go to the classes, deep down I knew they wouldn’t be attending those “Mandarin mornings” if not for me. I began to value my emotions as unique resources to help others accept and process their complex feelings about adoption. Leading discussions with my campers about their perceived IOUs, I realized that what they were describing didn’t truly sound like IOUs at all; it sounded like they had each felt content with their own interpretations of their adoptions. I picked up on these reflections and felt a weight lift off my shoulders. This provided an important paradigm shift in my mindset regarding my own adoption; an IOU can take many shapes and forms. The IOU that I’ve always felt, was actually appreciation and allowed me to have an optimistic mindset.

Discovering that I wasn’t “normal” was one of the most overwhelming things to understand. For a while, I felt ostracized by the stares we got when my family walked into a room. Being adopted from China created a perpetual awareness to perceive others like me. Outsiders and marginalized people were ubiquitous. All around me, whether it be students or peers, strangers even, were being left out. I hated seeing that because I related to them on a deep level. Through support and a safe environment, I finally accepted myself for who I am. However, that didn’t mean I had to let others struggle by themselves to achieve that place. I pledged that I would never standby and watch exclusion happen to someone. In my work and organizations, I strive to bring a positive and inclusive ambiance. You can’t just say, “Everyone is welcomed” either, you have to show and mean it. Currently, I’m the co-president of my school’s National Honor Society and it’s part of my responsibility to make everyone feel included. The community service NHS cannot be done without the important participation of our members. It’s imperative I create a reassuring environment for people to take part and share their experiences. I always ask if there are any questions and I reach out personally for input or further explanations. I seek to form relationships with the members because that’s what I would’ve wanted when I was an underclassman. Being adopted isn't my whole identity, but it has influenced my perspective on life. The opportunities it's created that I wouldn't have known otherwise are profound. The people that I grew up with shaped me to be accepting and supportive to all. I gathered intel from my own experiences and I try to take that with me wherever I go.

Discovering that I wasn’t “normal” was one of the most overwhelming things to understand. For a while, I felt ostracized by the stares we got when my family walked into a room. Being adopted from China created a perpetual awareness to perceive others like me. Outsiders and marginalized people were ubiquitous. All around me, whether it be students or peers, strangers even, were being left out. I hated seeing that because I related to them on a deep level. Through support and a safe environment, I finally accepted myself for who I am. However, that didn’t mean I had to let others struggle by themselves to achieve that place. I pledged that I would never standby and watch exclusion happen to someone. My parents don't look like me and I don't look like them. I didn’t think twice about it until I was older and realized how extraordinary my family was. There are times when judgment is blatant and I have to explain myself. “Yes we’re all together,” I'll say at restaurants just to be seated at the same table. Other times it’s subtle, and I can feel the looks and stares of people when we're all seated together. It's humiliating and reaffirms my need to be self-conscious. Their intent isn’t always malicious but, regardless, the uncomfortable feeling creeps over me: I'm not welcomed. Growing up with a cloud labeled "misfit" over my head would have negatively influenced me if not for the people around me. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by accepting and supporting close friends and family. Understanding the other side expanded my outlook on the rest of my community. In my work and organizations, I strive to bring forth a positive and inclusive ambiance. You can’t just say, “Everyone is welcomed” either, you have to show and mean it. Currently, I’m the co-president of my school’s National Honor Society and it’s part of my responsibility to make everyone feel included and heard. The community service NHS cannot be done without the important participation of our members. It’s imperative I create a reassuring environment for people to take part and share their experiences. I always ask if there are any questions and I reach out personally for input or further explanations. I seek to form relationships with the members because that’s what I would’ve wanted when I was an underclassman. Sometimes people are excluded for being different: appearances, race, gender, identity, religion. That shouldn’t even be a contributing factor, yet it unfairly is. Enduring the other side to prejudices opened my mind to toss any assumptions out the window. It's baffling that people are judged purely based on appearances or stigmas. If I wouldn't want to be judged for being Chinese, how could I knowingly enable myself and judge someone else? From personal experience, it's harmful to be negatively evaluated and assessed from afar. I believed it was my obligation to never stigmatize or marginalize anyone ever. The notion that people are more than just their appearances is an indispensable mindset that everyone should be privy to. Being adopted isn't my whole identity, but it has influenced my perspective on life. The opportunities it's created that I wouldn't have known otherwise are profound. The people that I grew up with shaped me to be accepting and supportive to all. I gathered information from my own experiences and observations and I try to take that with me wherever I go.

The sitcom, The Good Place, concentrates on morals, ethics, and the secular afterlife while maintaining a comedic undertone. The Good Place artfully weaves short, humorous lessons from Scanlon, Plato, and Kant, ensuring even my short attention span. The show is centered around how humans’ good or bad behavior on Earth elicits the Good Place or the Bad Place. The main characters, Chidi and Eleanor, are a pairing of yin and yang. Eleanor behaves without morals or ethics; while Chidi instructs her how to become a good person using philosophies such as categorical imperative and contractualism, posed in what we owe to each other, and “moral desert” concepts. As a 17-year-old, moral philosophy is considered new. Conversational philosophy is seldom unlike in 340 BC Athens, but morals are a subconscious aspect of life we all live with. Do we owe anything to one another? That was certainly a guiding question for my quest for understanding. My preconceived notion was that I could discern between what was good and bad without even thinking about it. I know not to steal just because it is bad, but is a white lie morally reprehensible? Chidi blighted a relationship and nearly harmed everyone while analyzing whether or not it was moral to lie about a friend’s taste in footwear. Did he owe him anything? I needed to learn more about this. After watching fifty-three episodes in five days—with a few snack breaks in between—it solicited a contentious question: am I an ethical person? I always came back to the advent of “moral desert” in the Season 2 finale. It had sent me into a perturbed anxiety hamster wheel spiral. Eleanor evidenced the work of good behavior in the finale and how it amassed to nothing, admitting unfulfillment and dissatisfaction with trying to be good. From afar, how horrible could someone be expecting to get some manner of reward for being moral, but was I any different? I'd like to think that I do things altruistically: but at the epicenter of it, there's that depraved, immoral thought, how can I benefit from this? Even if it is as simple as picking up something someone dropped and expecting a thank you. I’m not entitled to a thank you, or even deserving of it; it’s a presumption emanating from an imperative necessity for validation propagated by pop culture. I had to come to terms that sometimes I’m not a good person but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep striving for the betterment of others and pay it forward. What we owe to each other is part of a larger paradigm shift consequent from The Good Place. I previously held the notion that we didn't owe anything and now I can confirm it's not true. Some think one can’t learn from watching TV, I’d say think again. My whole disposition is revitalized; the way I think, believe, act. My moral compass is Chidi and Eleanor quarreling over the morality of a decision. The culmination of these temporal principles enlightened me with a revered assertion. Our moral obligation is to not try to get into a good place, but try to get others into a good place.

Recycling is not talked about enough. The general public has been nurtured by manipulative companies that the triangle symbol on the bottom of a bottle, means it is 100%, undeniably, recyclable. The only solution is to create active change in government-operated buildings and believe the trickle-down effect will change the way we recycle. According to National Geographic in 2021, only about 9% of plastic is recycled, meaning the other 91% in the bin, is thrown out. The alarming number is caused by blockage of food scraps and un-recyclable materials. Since the 70’s companies have been trying to evade different mandated regulations about recyclable materials their goods are sold in. By adding the “recycle triangle”, it alludes to the public that the item is recyclable, when in fact a 6 or 7, is nearly impossible to reuse. The laws don’t nearly do enough to enforce real recycling. Enforcing stricter laws in government-run operations will integrate into the public's awareness. If your take away from a public school is they don’t recycle, you’d be conditioned from a young age to not recycle. By making recycling a larger part of the youth’s education, when they come home, they will attempt to remedy the wrongdoing of recycling dirty plastics. At schools, there should be more cans added to each classroom and room. When children are raised in an environmentally conscious space, they take that with them. Every government building should go through the same regulation of prioritizing the recycling of metal, glass, and plastics. With the government leading by example, the promotion of correct recycling retains its importance. Starting in regulated buildings can prevent more excess waste from being put out into the oceans and atmosphere. Change happens one person at a time, the time is now, and the place is in government buildings.

My support system has been my neighbors; an odd, eclectic group of almost Camden Market pioneers hidden within my quaint community. It was an inconspicuous world of amazing business owners who've succeeded and stood as inspirations to me. They’ve given me every resource I could’ve ever asked for: knowledge. Truly, it’s been a monumental part of my business growth. I never could have worked up the courage to start it without their devotional actions and absolute belief in me that I could succeed. The immeasurable kindness and advice I’ve received is something I owe everything to, and for that, I’m endlessly grateful. To start, I’ve always been independent and audaciously ambitious. Always a big believer in self-made money and hard work. I had an annual lemonade stand and my own garage sale since I was 10. Most recently, I worked my way up to selling clothes on Depop, a reselling app. Although important, that wouldn’t have motivated me to run my own business on its own. Mrs. B, my neighbor from down the street, took particular interest in one of my most recent neighborhood ventures. She came down the street and checked out a few items and we got talking and the passions came pouring out. We shared the same visions, interests, and goals within the fashion industry. Her life revolved around fashion marketing and the behind-the-scenes of the business sector. She has the proprietary right to the start of my interest in the nuances of the fashion business. From that one talk, we exchanged emails and stories about her worldly travels and the adaptability needed in the ever-moving industry. In turn, I confided my disorganized ideas and dreams about an impactful fashion brand to mitigate and slow the detrimental impact of the fashion industry, using upcycling. My dream, to start a brand to upcycle items that would’ve been burned or put into landfills. To which she responded, “Do it.” The words spurred something and my ability to see the roadblocks and challenges disappeared. Her support and the community's support made up of other incredible, self-made entrepreneurs revitalized my drive and ability to protect the natural environment using my only talent: sewing. I was dedicated to the art of sewing since I was young and eventually adapting to combine business and sewing, awakened my fullest potential. I got to work immediately curated a brand. Not only did I learn from hearing stories and advice from these businesswomen, but I got to work with them. My neighborhood also had a literal hidden gem; my neighbor Mrs. P, the owner of a profound jewelry shop. She hired me for seeing prior works of mine, and I worked on a small marketing campaign. With little knowledge but ceaseless dedication, I found a niche that I found I really enjoyed and could now implement that in my own work. From there, I advertised my upcycling business on platforms like Tiktok and Depop. I followed in her footsteps and found success and immense joy and satisfaction. The greatest tool that I didn’t even realize until reflecting upon it, was the words of encouragement from others like me. I had resources around me the entire time that I didn’t even know were similar to me. We naturally came together to support one another. Mrs. B’s words, similar to the Nike Goddess of Victory, empowered me to continue working hard and prompted me to continue to look to my community for advice and motivation.

Society can most effectively empower women by portraying figures as regular people. Not putting them on a pedestal and making it seem like an achievement that is hard to attain for a younger person. If we show real women managers, team leaders, and project directors ubiquitous in the community, we can raise young girls on the notion that this is how it should be. As much as Wonder Woman is a heroin figure for young women, the practicality of it cannot be applied to everyone. There need to be tangible visuals as their representation to encourage and show the reality and achievability of strong women. In my National Honor Society club, two men held the president position before. Running for president was terrifying, there were pressures for me to be like them and act like them. However, when I gave my speech and found my footing— I found a partner in the process. As co-presidents, she and I led the club. With two female leaders at the helm, we hoped it encouraged more people, girls, and boys, to engage and serve the community. Finally, my voice was heard. My co-president and I raised over a thousand items and three hundred dollars for a local homeless shelter in five months. However, I had hesitations as we stood socially distanced apart on the corner of my school waiting for donations. Would anyone donate? Did we look like leaders? But we uplifted each other and showed that we could make an impact no matter who we are or what we looked like. If I was a young girl and I saw a teenager in charge of a club, it would inspire me to strive for that. Six degrees of separation characterizes an important pillar in describing empowerment. Over time the definition of a leader has connotations of power and almost possession. Seeing that I'm a small girl, I had the feeling that I never could amount and fill the shoes of a true leader, which deterred me from a lot of opportunities. Do I not look responsible? And the most harmful question, could a man do it better? The outlook on women as almost submissive is toxic and so not true. There is no one image of a strong woman or a powerful woman. Besides, they are mostly in the shadows working tirelessly just to be ignored. It's time for the light to be shined on those hard workers and the mansplainers who hinder their success, to hold them accountable. The paradigm shift society demands are not to deify one woman, but the collective whole and praise their contributions together. Show that there is power in numbers and the behind-the-scenes to show the truth and transparency of feminism. People work together no matter what gender or identification they are, and news stations or newspapers, or social media does not show enough of the collaboration which defeats the purpose of empowering women. Especially in small communities, reaching out to others like you can inspire them to do something great. Once you asked for an equal pay raise or the recognition you deserve, others will follow. That is the change that empowering women is trying to do; slowly shift the tilted world into balance.

Art in itself is so unique as it is a conglomeration of so many different skill sets. It requires innovation, creativity, and the total pursuit of passion. Being an artist means you possess those skills and can make something representing yourself; whether it be a traditional art painting or a scientific ingenuity, you express yourself in the medium of your choice. You put that out into the world, knowing fully well that impact it could have: positive or negative. The field is full of the most creative and ingenious people; it can be overwhelming at times. But consider the perspective that they are all working with you, not against you. I’m incredibly inspired by others’ works and methods and I’m driven by examples and success stories. Every artist I've encountered has been so amiable and inclined to share their experiences. The web of interconnected artists is so heavily influenced by one another their impact can be astronomical. My calling has always been fashion. The meaning has changed over time but I see it as personal expression through statement pieces. It's not just commercial clothing for comfort or expensive high fashion. A dress can invoke emotion and memories for a person. I find items in my closet that are timeless and bring a rush of nostalgia to me. A representation of memory can be aggregated in a dress or shirt, like a memory souvenir. When I make garments, I have a purpose for someone else to love them as much as I do. When someone notices my work, I get to connect with somebody on a personal level. If they like my item, they like a part of me too. I consciously make items with the knowledge and intent of putting them to good use; if not me then someone else and that continues to drive me. However, there's a shortcoming to the fashion industry. With the fashion industry accounting for 20% of all global wastewater, the importance of sustainability is clear. I've mostly focused my sewing projects on up-cycling old shirts or thrifted items. Giving an item a new purpose is so empowering and special because it gives it a new life, to what otherwise would've been wasted. I've made shirts, masks, and totes from thrifted items which I use ceaselessly. My small part in decreasing the damage is minuscule to what needs to be done, but I try and do something. To stay connected to the art is easy. To stay connected to the world is hard. In learning more about human impact and pollution in my environmental science class, it’s become disturbing how little the industry does. Corporate companies have no interest in creating reusable and ethically creative invigorated fashion. In the future, I’d like to create a fashion brand. A brand based on ethics and principles, hyper-aware of the jeopardizing environmental impact of waste. My job would be to minimize my carbon footprint, consider dangerous factors, and problem-solve ways around and through dilemmas, all the while, introducing a new type of artistry to the world. An artist is smart and graciously calculating, in the best way. Their art is made with a function: self-health, pro-bono, for-profit, etc. Nonetheless, its creation signifies a competent and bold person ready to make a difference. Every artist has the ability to make greatness; that greatness can either serve as an outreach for knowledge and bring connection between people or not. I couldn’t live with myself if I let that happen, knowing fully well I could’ve curtailed the consequences of the fashion industry.

Discovering that I wasn’t “normal” was one of the most overwhelming things to understand. For a while, I felt ostracized by the stares we got when my family walked into a room. Being adopted from China created a perpetual awareness to perceive others like me. Outsiders and marginalized people were ubiquitous. All around me, whether it be students or peers, strangers even, were being left out. I hated seeing that because I related to them on a deep level. Through support and a safe environment, I finally accepted myself for who I am. However, that didn’t mean I had to let others struggle by themselves to achieve that place. I pledged that I would never standby and watch exclusion happen to someone. My parents don't look like me and I don't look like them. I didn’t think twice about it until I was older and realized how extraordinary my family was. There are times when judgment is blatant and I have to explain myself. “Yes we’re all together,” I'll say at restaurants just to be seated at the same table. Other times it’s subtle, and I can feel the looks and stares of people when we're all seated together. It's humiliating and reaffirms my need to be self-conscious. Their intent isn’t always malicious but, regardless, the uncomfortable feeling creeps over me: I'm not welcomed. Growing up with a cloud labeled "misfit" over my head would have negatively influenced me if not for the people around me. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by accepting and supporting close friends and family. Understanding the other side expanded my outlook on the rest of my community. In my work and organizations, I strive to bring forth a positive and inclusive ambiance. You can’t just say, “Everyone is welcomed” either, you have to show and mean it. Currently, I’m the co-president of my school’s National Honor Society and it’s part of my responsibility to make everyone feel included and heard. The community service NHS cannot be done without the important participation of our members. It’s imperative I create a reassuring environment for people to take part and share their experiences. I always ask if there are any questions and I reach out personally for input or further explanations. I seek to form relationships with the members because that’s what I would’ve wanted when I was an underclassman. Sometimes people are excluded for being different: appearances, race, gender, identity, religion. That shouldn’t even be a contributing factor, yet it unfairly is. Enduring the other side to prejudices opened my mind to toss any assumptions out the window. It's baffling that people are judged purely based on appearances or stigmas. If I wouldn't want to be judged for being Chinese, how could I knowingly enable myself and judge someone else? From personal experience, it's harmful to be negatively evaluated and assessed from afar. I believed it was my obligation to never stigmatize or marginalize anyone ever. The notion that people are more than just their appearances is an indispensable mindset that everyone should be privy to. Being adopted isn't my whole identity, but it has influenced my perspective on life. The opportunities it's created that I wouldn't have known otherwise are profound. The people that I grew up with shaped me to be accepting and supportive to all. I gathered intel from my own experiences and observations and I try to take that with me wherever I go.

Volunteering is a unique type of work because it costs nothing. It’s an altruistic principle that exhibits the good of humanity in a time where that is infrequent. It's hard to see your impact until you take a step back. When the pandemic hit, I had a lot of time for self-reflection and growth. There was all this time on my hands and no creative outlet. I was looking for something, and serendipity struck, and I stumbled upon exactly what I was looking for on social media. It was a non-profit by local students at another high school called Thinking Of You Cards. They were a card-making organization arranging card drop-off zones to patients, doctors, and nurses. Immediately, I was intrigued. I had to learn more. I emailed them quickly, wanting to make cards ASAP. I created my first batch of cards while in between my classes, enjoying the cathartic coloring exercise. I dropped off the cards and went home to make more. The tug to continue with this project was innate. I didn't know anyone in this organization, but I felt I just had to continue. I applied an application to the board and became the Graphic Designer. These cards went all around my community to hospitals, clinics, and fire stations: the front-line workers. The impact reached medical centers and beyond. It was so important to me to spread this organization because I know there were other students out there looking for a way to share their gratitude to those who were risking their lives for everyone. They just might not know how to yet. I brought this organization to my school clubs, Key Club, and National Honor Society, and encouraged students to create cards. And students did! Students from all grades created cards thanking those workers and wishing well to patients. Each card was going to brighten someone's day, because just knowing a neighbor, or friend, is thinking of them, is a blessing. I know when my relative was in the hospital a few months prior, it was dreary, but at least we were able to visit. Now more than ever, with patients unable to see loved ones, cards with sincere notes were exponentially more important for patients to remain hopeful. The saying, “Leave a place better than when you found it”, stands as a mantra I strongly believe in. Spreading a small act of kindness is something that no one regrets. Knowledge of how to do that is equally important. I continue this important work because there is so much work to be done in the community, and I want to chip away at it in any way I can and spread goodwill.

How To Train Your Dragon (2010) is my favorite movie of all time. Though it’s not something I love to advertise to everyone I meet, this children's movie has always comforted me. It follows an underdog Viking, Hiccup, in the dragon-hating world of Berk. Hiccup goes against his father’s wishes and befriends a dragon named Toothless. He studies and tames dragons, eventually pursuing a paradigm shift to all Vikings. Most movies geared towards children seem patronizing, with simple benign morals. However, this movie focuses on slain dragons and broken families, themes that most films tend to ignore. I grew up with the series, watching it expand and become more profound. Granted that I’m 17, I’ve had at least ten years to view a fair sum of movies, yet this stands the test of time and remains prominent. It shows us that generations of traditions are not the end-all, be-all. There is room for growth and changes in mindset if people are willing to learn. Hiccup teaches his friends/family there is an alternative to hatred and fear: benevolence. The strong ensemble breaks social norms such as showing a powerful, independent girl on-screen in this brute world. Ultimately, there is a pureness to Toothless and Hiccups' friendship that is so timeless I can always turn to it when real life is less than magical. It brings me back to a time of naiveness and idyllically. How to Train Your Dragon perfectly captures the charming innocence of 2010 in an action-packed film that just makes you want to live on Berk with your own dragon friend.

‘You are safe. You are loved. You are protected’. No matter what, I will always remember these words. Props to my mom for the anaphora. I don't think she meant to have didactic intentions as it was more of a mantra she soothed to put me at ease when I was younger and scared of the monsters under my bed. However, the lesson stuck. As I got older and observed in movies or books about support systems, a lot of them were nonexistent. I’m humbled to even be given an affirming, caring, family and I can only wish that upon anyone else. From youth and on, I implored myself to step out of my timid comfort zone and seek to make other people, safe, loved and protected just as I had been. I’ll forever look for the lonelier person in a crowd, or proffer a question to the new kid. It’s something I had, that I want to extend a hand to someone else and I’ll always have that in the back of my mind. This transferred, even, into my works. My goal is to make a positive, environmental impact and I now see, to achieve this, I must apply the same mantra into this world. To continue building, perhaps, a company that supplies good work wages and uses sustainable manufacturing products, the people around me need to feel safe, loved, and protected. I can offer that as the building blocks of a work community to further my aspirations.

Meet my dog Bear! Although not an actual bear, my lab is the most lovable pup ever. He even loves to play dress-up, if there's peanut butter involved of course. I piqued his interest with the whiff of unsalted peanut butter and plopped him down in my backyard one summer afternoon for a 'Vogue' or 'Dogue' photoshoot!

I was so excited to go into Junior year with the prospects of new clubs and friends. With the impending mayhem, there was no hope for the year of service I was excited for. However, that did not deter me from working hard. Via our small chapter of the National Honor Society, our team continued meeting and planning to serve the community. I aided a homeless organization and raised over 700 items for our local organization. Through perseverance and dedication, I was humbled to stand at the forefront of bringing my community together and affording supplies to those in need.

Imagine being white-washed. But, there was never anything to wash away in the beginning. I was born in China and brought to America, wiped of my natural-born heritage of speaking Mandarin, growing up in a traditionally strict religious household, and having specific mannerisms. I am adopted. I got the double whammy of an identity crisis: Asian-American and adopted. I was raised speaking English, offered the opportunity to learn Mandarin as a child but declined, and allowed to grow up in an un-tethered environment of freedom. When I was little, my parents took my brother and me to a Chinese school for me to learn the language, yet, I hated it. Every Saturday morning I dreaded getting into the car to go to a church for an hour and learn a language I had no reason to learn. So I stopped going. I cut ties with the last bit of culture I had because it was practical and I honestly still live by that. To me it would be like learning the language of Klingon from Star Trek; pointless, maybe fun, but for me useless in any other way because no one I knew spoke Mandarin. I feel racism without the association; I look Chinese, that’s apparent, still, I don’t feel Chinese. Especially in my high school where the majority is not Asian, the subtle racism becomes clear. There’s a divide of faces that you can’t escape. People see race before anything else. When I was in 7th grade, I went through a sewing phase. A great obsession with Project Runway. I was glued to my sewing machine 24/7. One day, my white, Freshman brother came home with a friend he had met at school. I said my greetings and continued sewing. A year later, my brother told me that his friend thought I was a slave, a child laborer for the family. I was appalled, of course, I laughed at it but it reinforced that assumption were made from my outward appearance. They see me as Chinese and assume all the stereotypes in their heads. I’ve become accustomed to it and even like to join in making fun of it. For me, however, it is an act. Most of the stereotypes are based on the generalization that all Asians go through the same things growing up, but I never did any of them. I defy the conventional image of a Chinese person. If anything, I relate more to “white people” stereotypes. There are the internal pressure and tug I feel to be more in touch with my Chinese side, except I just don’t resonate with it as much. I feel the impact because some of my friends are Asian and have more traditional aspects in their lives. They mention cultural practices and I don’t relate to those, yet everyone acts as if I would know because of how I look. I resist against people saying I’m Asian. I noticed that about myself while exploring my cultural identity because I don’t think of myself as Asian. Others judge that I am one thing without even knowing me. I cannot even be considered a “banana”, which means you’re yellow on the outside and white on the inside. I have zero connections to Chinese culture, unlike the majority of Chinese-Americans who relate themselves to a “banana”. My native language is English. I even know more Spanish than Mandarin at this point. There’s no one special dish that represents my culture; whereas Chinese cuisine has many staples. I wouldn’t even say I am white-washed because there isn’t a culture I am neglecting or leaving behind; I didn’t have one to start with. The only thing tying me to China is my outward appearance and my place of birth. I've been so exposed to the sheer assumptions and judgments from others that I have a constant guard up. I'm ready for the remarks, the scoffs, awkwardness of people not knowing how to approach the topic. It's all affected me to become self-aware of others and their perceptions of themselves and myself. My belief is where you are raised is more important than what you look like. Hands-down, I've learned never to judge anyone by their looks because I know how it makes me feel, and I wouldn't wish that upon anyone.