You decide to take a stroll around a park. How would you describe your walk? Maybe you hear the birds chirping and people's conversations in the background. Is it peaceful, do you enjoy the sun? That stroll is completely different for a neurodivergent person. First, there’s the sun, which I can only describe as a laser, piercing its light into my eye until it burns my eye and makes my entire body throb in pain. But it’s not all bad, I see the details you missed, the way the crack in the cement made a heart, and the way the pattern of the birds chirping made the first couple digits of pi. But I also heard the conversations of those people in the background, only to me it was like they were screaming instead of talking peacefully. It’s like the cells in my brain danced around to rearrange themselves, and the pattern they landed transpired to become my autism. When I got medication, I could share what was happening inside my head, what was happening to me when I put my hands over my eyes and sat on the ground for hours unable to speak. But I’m not a writer nor a poet, I’m a dancer. Before I knew the words, I knew the movements. Improvisation dance was how I presented speeches. The only words I could find were “There’s a laser in my eye”. The domino of getting social anxiety medication hit the domino of me being able to finally explain what was happening. This allowed me to share my thoughts, causing my parents to finally look into autism. When I got my diagnosis, the world clicked. I got the greatest gift I have received in my academic life, a 504 plan. I now have accommodations and a community of other artists who are also neurodivergent. I learned terms that made me feel heard. It made me so excited to learn about this newly defined part of my life, that I wanted to share more and be the person I wish I had. I performed a dance piece about my story titled “In My Head” at competitions and shows across California. As I got more confident, I decided to enter the workforce. I became a teacher at a dance studio, which meant meetings with staff, leading students, and communicating with parents. I had waited to obtain a job because of my fear of socializing. Now I find joy in speaking and communicating with people from all walks of life. Once my biggest struggles, turned into my greatest skill. Previously, I would never considered entering a career where I would have to communicate with people daily. Now, I am excited for a future where I can combine my love for dance with my care for others. As a neurodivergent student who did not learn these communication and leadership skills earlier in life, I wish to after college open a studio for neurodivergent students to learn not only art, but also life skills. I hope to be the person I wish I had, and teach these skills to the next generation. I’m not perfect now. I still complete my homework and I still dance constantly, but I also allow myself to unwind. I take those first 30 minutes at home to just sit. Because being perfect isn’t attainable, but being genuine is. And a part of the real, genuine me is that I still feel like I have a laser in my eye.

I grew up in the back house inside the garage of my grandparent’s farm. My sister, parents, and I squished into a small house with one bedroom, a living room that doubled as my parent's bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom with a curtain for a door. Money was scarce, but I didn’t notice as a child. I was obsessed with school and spent my free time in the dance studio. It wasn't until middle school that I discovered the concept of money, overhearing my parents discussing applying for bankruptcy. I was so enthralled by dance and school, but it felt like money was holding me back. I remember searching up how many hours a day you should be dancing to become a professional and crying when I found out I could never pay for it. My new obsession became saving money, in a fresh, paralyzing fear of being near homeless. Things went downhill when my house caught fire. My biggest fear, coming to life. My parents may not have had the money to support my dreams in school and dance, but they had an abundance of heart and found an art school for me. I auditioned until in my freshman year, I was finally admitted. We implemented art in all aspects of our lives. My sister and I’s love for art helped save us from homelessness as we sold pastel drawings to afford our new house. Once accepted and moved in, I challenged myself to take advantage of all my new opportunities. I was able to get a scholarship at a local studio where I was able to compete in dance, and took free classes at my school. I was still low-income, and I knew others were too. My fear of money turned into a fear to skill when I became the fundraising coordinator and raised enough money to take my entire team on a trip to LA to watch professional shows and take workshops. I am grateful for growing up low-income, I learned to combine my skills and past experience to find opportunities I once thought impossible. In addition to being low-income, I am also autistic. I wish to after college open a studio for neurodivergent students. I hope to be the person I wish I had. I want to be the safe person for the child who is nonverbal, the mentor for the student in poverty and the teacher of the kid who’s passion exceeds their disadvantages. I know there will be a generation of students who face similar things as I have, and I want to be there for them.

There was no extra credit to do, no homework, no more Brain Quest books. There was a pause in academics, the one thing I craved. I fell into a pit, a spiral. My parents begged me to go to therapy, but that was a struggle when you have social anxiety. Once school returned, I finally got medication for my extreme anxiety, and the color in the world came back. I had new friends, and while I wasn’t popular, I also wasn’t alone. I could share what was happening inside my head, what was happening to me when I put my hands over my eyes and sat on the ground for hours unable to speak. But I’m not a writer nor a poet, I’m a dancer. Before I knew the words, I knew the movements. Improvisation dance was how I presented speeches. The only words I could find were “There’s a laser in my eye”. The domino of getting social anxiety medication hit the domino of me being able to finally explain what was happening. This allowed me to share my thoughts, causing my parents to finally look into autism. When I got my diagnosis, the world clicked. I got the greatest gift I have received in my academic life, a 504 plan. I now have accommodations and a community of other artists who are also neurodivergent. I learned terms that made me feel heard. It made me so excited to learn about this newly defined part of my life, that I wanted to share more and be the person I wish I had. I performed a dance piece about my story titled “In My Head” at competitions and shows across California. As I got more confident, I decided to enter the workforce. I became a teacher at a dance studio, which meant meetings with staff, leading students, and communicating with parents. I had waited to obtain a job because of my fear of socializing. Now I find joy in speaking and communicating with people from all walks of life. Once my biggest struggles, turned into my greatest skill. Previously, I would never considered entering a career where I would have to communicate with people daily. Now, I am excited for a future where I can combine my love for dance with my care for others. As a neurodivergent student who did not learn these communication and leadership skills earlier in life, I wish to after college open a studio for neurodivergent students to learn not only art, but also life skills. I hope to be the person I wish I had, and teach these skills to the next generation. I’m not perfect now. I still complete my homework and I still dance constantly, but I also allow myself to unwind. I take those first 30 minutes at home to just sit. Because being perfect isn’t attainable, but being genuine is. And a part of the real, genuine me is that I still feel like I have a laser in my eye.

There is something so phenomenal about movement. It is clean, textured, technical, and can never be done the same way twice. It is beguiling and graceful, perhaps it is the shapes formed when exploring or the feeling of flying replicated in technical steps. When I think of my future, I see a stage, an art form, a sport in the center, and all the dreams I have for the future of dance. My dream is to have a career in the world of dance, I hope to be a ballet or contemporary choreographer. I get overwhelmed with passion and joy when I turn on the box of my pointe shoes and hope that one day, I can create something that fills others with as much joy as I get from dance. I dream that my improv can mold into a performance piece that will not only light up the audience, but more so the dancer, the artist performing. As a choreographer, I want to break the barrier of expectations, while still connecting and embracing the classical technique idols such as Martha Graham have set before. I have choreographed before, for theatrical shows in a community setting, and have performed before for local studios, the opening of large corporations (such as Sutter hospital), and in Disneyland parades. From these experiences as well as my training, I have learned many styles, pointe, and ballet, tap, modern, contemporary, parade and jazz. My ambition is to combine them, the groundwork of contemporary, the flying sensation of pointe, the anatomy of modern, and the energy of jazz, while still displaying shapes and emotion in movement. It is evident that some choreographers favor specific genders, body types, and colors. The pernicious idea that a dancer must be white and thin is unfair, unrealistic, and unreasonable. As a choreographer, I plan on creating gender-neutral roles. Trans and non-binary dancers are often put aside when it comes to Ballets with lead male and female roles. A shorter or taller dancer might be cut out of a cast because they don't fit the unrealistic idea of a ballet body. Even the most professional and talented dancers of color are treated unfairly or asked to keep their race a secret. I plan on removing this idea of “the perfect look” and cast dancers with passion, talent, dedication, and not on how they look or present themself. All one must do to have a dancer’s body, is to dance. I value hard work, not on having a company of dancers who look the same. In addition to being a choreographer, I aim to be a mentor to young dancers. Students in dance are often overwhelmed, stressed, or forced into unhealthy eating habits. As a teacher and proponent for well-being in body as well as mind, I will prioritize the mental health of dancers. I want to set up a system that ensures that the well-being of a dancer, body, and mind, is prioritized in a fun and promising manner. Finally, I am autistic. I want to create a studio that offers neurodivergent students technical training while being accommodated. While these dreams may seem big, I can make this dream a reality. I plan on attending college for a degree in dance choreography, and connecting with the many people in the industry I have met. I already have experience and certifications I need to embark on this path. With determination I hope to change the dance world to create a safe space.

There is something phenomenal about movement. It is clean, textured, technical, and can never be done the same way twice. My dream is to have a career in the world of dance. My ambition is to not only become a choreographer but also an advocate for equality and mental health for my students. As a choreographer, I want to break the barrier of expectations, while still connecting to and embracing the classical technique idols such as Martha Graham have set before. The pernicious idea that a dancer should be white and thin is unfair, unrealistic, and unreasonable. I plan on creating gender-neutral roles. Trans and non-binary dancers are often put aside when it comes to casting Ballets with lead male and female roles. A shorter or taller dancer might be cut out of a cast because they don't fit the unrealistic idea of a ballet body. Even the most talented dancers of color are treated unfairly or asked to keep their race a secret. According to the article, “Lack of POC Dancers Prompts Call for Change, “Only 2.27 percent of ballerinas are African American females (Robinson)”. I plan on removing this idea of “the perfect look” and casting dancers with passion, talent, and dedication, not based on how they look or present themselves. I value hard work, not having a company of dancers who look the same. In addition, I aim to be a mentor to young dancers. Students in dance are often overwhelmed, stressed, or forced into unhealthy eating habits. As a teacher and proponent of well-being physically as well as mind, I will prioritize the mental health of dancers. I want to set up a system that ensures that the well-being of a dancer, body, and mind, is prioritized. My overarching goal in my career is to someday open a studio for neurodivergent, minority, and low-income dancers. I want to be the person I wish I had, and the people I was fortunate enough to meet. Dance would not be possible for me without scholarships and working part-time at studios while keeping up above a 4.0 and countless extracurriculars, so I can hopefully gain loans and scholarships to further my education. While this may seem unreachable, I can make this goal a reality. I plan on attending college for a degree in dance choreography and connecting with the many people in the industry I have met. If you had told my younger self 5 years ago that she'd be heading to college for dance, she wouldn't have believed you. If you the fourth grade version of me that she was still pursing opening her studio, she would be incredibly excited. She was undiagnosed; she lived in a garage, but she had an undying passion that still burns in me today. I am ambitious and excited for my future as well as the future of art.

There is something phenomenal about movement. It is clean, textured, technical, and can never be done the same way twice. My dream is to have a career in the world of dance. My ambition is to not only become a choreographer but also an advocate for equality and mental health for my students. As a choreographer, I want to break the barrier of expectations, while still connecting to and embracing the classical technique idols such as Martha Graham have set before. The pernicious idea that a dancer should be white and thin is unfair, unrealistic, and unreasonable. I plan on creating gender-neutral roles. Trans and non-binary dancers are often put aside when it comes to casting Ballets with lead male and female roles. A shorter or taller dancer might be cut out of a cast because they don't fit the unrealistic idea of a ballet body. Even the most talented dancers of color are treated unfairly or asked to keep their race a secret. According to the article, “Lack of POC Dancers Prompts Call for Change, “Only 2.27 percent of ballerinas are African American females (Robinson)”. I plan on removing this idea of “the perfect look” and casting dancers with passion, talent, and dedication, not based on how they look or present themselves. I value hard work, not having a company of dancers who look the same. In addition, I aim to be a mentor to young dancers. Students in dance are often overwhelmed, stressed, or forced into unhealthy eating habits. As a teacher and proponent of well-being physically as well as mind, I will prioritize the mental health of dancers. I want to set up a system that ensures that the well-being of a dancer, body, and mind, is prioritized. My overarching goal in my career is to someday open a studio for neurodivergent, minority, and low-income dancers. I want to be the person I wish I had, and the people I was fortunate enough to meet. Dance would not be possible for me without scholarships and working part-time at studios while keeping up above a 4.0 and countless extracurriculars, so I can hopefully gain loans and scholarships to further my education. While this may seem unreachable, I can make this goal a reality. I plan on attending college for a degree in dance choreography and connecting with the many people in the industry I have met. That's where I'll need help. As a student with disabilities and below the poverty line, college isn't a guarantee for me without financial help. Being selected for this scholarship would guarantee me a higher education. It wouldn't only help financially, but help me realize that I can do this. I want to go to college, and I will do whatever it takes, but the fewer loans I have to take back, the sooner I can open my studio. This scholarship wouldn't only change my life, but the life of the students I hope to have, and the community of neurodivergent low-income kids like myself. If you had told my younger self 5 years ago that she'd be heading to college for dance, she wouldn't have believed you. She was undiagnosed; she lived in a garage, but she had an undying passion that still burns in me today. I am ambitious and excited for my future as well as the future of art.

Dance is expensive; classes, choreographers, costumes, shoes, clothes, and travel fees. I fell in love regardless, the way I could share things without saying a single word. I am autistic and dyslexic, so words don’t come naturally, but movement does. I am constantly asked, "What is it like being autistic?" and I never quite know what to say. Last year I finally built up the confidence and money to dance as a soloist. I chose to share my story of autism and sensory processing disorder; the blinding lights, being lost for words, the tics, and sensory overload. After performing the piece for the first time, I cried. I felt heard for the very first time. I have been able to perform this solo multiple times, and it has been one of the greatest opportunities. As I am writing this, I am in the dressing room about to perform for a showcase about mental health. But it is much bigger to me. It means I know now that my story matters. I know now I can make this my job and truly embrace dance as my life, the way I’ve wanted to since I can remember. However, being below the poverty line even to this day, money has always been an issue. Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a dancer, I went as often as I could afford. I remember logging on to my computer and researching how many classes a day you should take to become a professional dancer. When the number popped up, I immediately started crying. There was no way I could afford that, my family couldn’t even afford our own house as we lived in a modified garage on a farm. I tried to give up on dancing, but I couldn’t stop. In addition to dance, the visual arts were also a passion of my twin and me. We created pastel drawings and sold them, and eventually, we were able to afford a house of our own. I decided to take a chance and call my director. She blessed me with a gracious scholarship, and my family and I worked at the studio to help afford dance. I found an art school and applied every year. Finally, I was accepted during my freshman year. I promised myself I would take advantage of every opportunity. I raced through the levels of dance, trying to better myself and make my dream a reality. I still, as a company member of a professional company, my studio, and my school, try to take advantage of every opportunity and seek them out. I was hired as a dance teacher after student teaching and interning at a dance convention. And now I sit here writing a scholarship as I am about to perform my first show as a professional. Dance has made it possible to share my story as an autistic individual. I hope to continue dance as my major in college if money permits. After college, I hope to open a studio for low-income neurodivergent dancers to have a safe place to move and create. I’m not done with my challenges, but I’m nowhere near giving up. I will keep pushing and keep sharing. Art and I are intertwined, and if filing for bankruptcy and autism can’t stop me, nothing will.

I live in my Barbie dream house. It’s not all pink like Barbie’s or as eloquently decorated as a Mojo Dojo Casa House. But it is my dream house. To many people, it’s quite the opposite—a run-down house in the "hood" with a kitchen that hasn't been renovated since it was built in the 1950s and mismatched furniture—but it has everything I could ask for. If you had told me any year before 2018 that I had my very own room, I wouldn’t have believed you. If you had told me from 2012 to 2017 that my family had their own house, I would have cried. In 2012, my low-income family moved from our small apartment to an even smaller converted garage on my grandparent's farm. It wasn’t up to code, but it worked. As a child, I didn’t see the issues with the house. I mean, if I looked out our one and only window, I could see goats! But truthfully, it was a one-bedroom house with four of us, a bathroom with a 3ft by 3ft shower, a sink with mixed-up hot and cold buttons and a curtain for a door, a living room that doubled as my parent's bedroom, holding just their bed and a small TV, which was open to the kitchen, and then my sister and I’s room. This worked for 5 years. Then the house not being up to code became a problem when a fire started. We were blessed to not lose many possessions, but we did have to relocate. We stayed in a hotel for a couple of days and then were able to go back for our possessions. My fairy godmother, my grandmother, gave us the greatest gift. It was even more special than my ballet shoes, tap shoes, and all the other magical gifts she granted me. She gave our family the last bit of money we needed for our house. We had been working on saving; in fact, we were able to put our art to work as we sold pastel drawings. Now I have a space of my own, which was already a dream house for me, but during COVID, not only was it my room but also my dance studio and school. I may still have had to do my dancing small and do my push-ups for PE class under my desk, but having the space and technology to be able to move was a privilege. Having a home with my family is all I need, and I am eternally grateful I have a roof over my head and running water. A room with decor of my own, storing my books and pink clothing. Living in Sacramento, California, specifically, a smaller town called North Highlands. With a blue paint job and the prettiest red door you could imagine. Carpet that had to be replaced during a flood, crown molding we still haven’t quite finished, and of course our ugly kitchen. But I love our ugly little kitchen and the new but unpainted doors. Because our dream house will be ever-changing as we grow. This genuinely isn’t supposed to be a sob story about a fire and a low-income girl, but instead a story about how seeing life from a different perspective can make any place a mojo dojo casa house.

My favorite Disney character is Alice from Alice in Wonderland. As a child, I found comfort in the character I could watch on the screen or read in my books. I have autism that went undiagnosed until I was 16, and I related to Alice in her world of color and confusion. It has been said that Alice has multiple mental illnesses, and still lives in a world of beauty, and this was very helpful for my younger self. I saw a little girl like me on screen and immediately loved her. From her wild imagination to her blonde hair, I saw a girl like me. A girl curious and intelligent, and more so, determined as can be. When I reached the 4th grade, I became interested in acting when I found out that the school play would be “Alice in Wonderland”, and despite my anxiety, I decided to audition. Due to my anxiety, this task felt impossible beforehand, but watching Alice on the screen encouraged me that I could be Alice too. I got the part as Alice and fell in love with the arts in the process. I was able to overcome my fears and step on to a stage to bring one of my favorite characters to life. This spark ignited my passion. This encouraged me to go to an arts school where now I am pursuing dance at a performing and fine arts academy high school and I will graduate in 2024 with a Distinction and CTE in dance on my diploma. I hope to continue in dance as a double major in either sociology or physics. In a way, I like to think that Alice helped me shape my life and find new interests despite my anxiety and autism. Alice taught me that while life can be confusing and you might find yourself off your path, you can pursue your goals with joy and keep following your white rabbit.

My dream is to have a career in the world of dance. My ambition is to not only be a choreographer but also an advocate for equality and mental health for my students. As a choreographer, I want to break the barrier of expectations, while still connecting and embracing the classical technique idols such as Martha Graham have set before. I have choreographed before, for theatrical shows in a community setting, and have performed before for studios, the opening of large corporations, and in Disneyland parades. I have learned many styles and my ambition is to combine them, the groundwork of contemporary, the flying sensation of pointe, the anatomy of modern, and the energy of jazz, while still displaying shapes and emotion in movement. Some choreographers favor specific genders, body types, and colors. The pernicious idea that a dancer should be white and thin is unfair, unrealistic, and unreasonable. As a choreographer, I plan on creating gender-neutral roles. Trans, non-binary, disabled, POC , and even dancers of different heights are often put aside when it comes to casting. According to the article, “Lack of POC Dancers Prompts Call for Change, “Only 2.27 percent of ballerinas are African American females(Robinson)”. I plan on removing this idea of “the perfect look” and cast dancers with passion, talent, dedication, and not on how they look or present themself. I value hard work, not having a company of dancers who look the same. I also want to create a more diverse and safe environment for neurodivergents, as I am autistic. I want to be the mentor I wish I had. I also aim to be a mentor to young dancers. Students in dance are often overwhelmed, stressed, or forced into unhealthy eating habits. As a proponent for well-being physically and mentally, I will prioritize the mental health of dancers. I want to set up a system that ensures that the well-being of a dancer, body, and mind, is prioritized. I plan on making this become a reality by attending college for a degree in dance choreography, and connecting with the many people in the industry I have met. I already have experience and am in a program that teaches me to choreograph and teach, as well as get a distinction in dance in my high school diploma. I am ambitious and am excited for my future as well as the future of art.

Eight years ago I made a small decision that changed my life. A simple hour of happiness and creativity made a huge impact. This decision was to attend a ballet class. I never knew from that first class that eight years later I would be slipping on pointe shoes and escaping the negatives of the world to dance for hours. Dance is not just a sport or an art form for me. Dance is like soaring above the clouds, and is so incredibly difficult it can never truly be perfected. This is what I love about it, it is a never-ending journey to improve. As a goal oriented student, this reach for improvement brings me great joy. There is nothing more satisfying than accomplishing a ballet variation, learning a new skill, or perfecting counts. This one simple event did not only change my life in dance, but gave me the pleasure of trying new things. I enjoy taking on new tasks such as rollerblading, reading, creating zines and many more activities. Expanding my horizons is one of my keys to happiness. In addition to activities, simple daily events such as watching a movie with my family, climbing a tree or watching the sunset from my roof help me realize the contentment of everyday life. Life is beautiful and I receive joy in attempting to make the most of it and explore all I can. These simple things make up a large picture we call life.

There is something phenomenal about movement. It is clean, textured, technical, and can never be done the same way twice. It is beguiling and graceful, perhaps it is the shapes formed when exploring or the feeling of flying replicated in technical steps. My dream is to have a career in the world of dance, I hope to be a ballet or contemporary choreographer. I dream that my improv can mold into a performance piece that will not only light up the audience, but more so the dancer, the artist performing. My ambition is to not only a choreographer but also an advocate for equality and mental health for my students. As a choreographer, I want to break the barrier of expectations, while still connecting and embracing the classical technique idols such as Martha Graham have set before. I have choreographed before, for theatrical shows in a community setting, and have performed before for studios, the opening of large corporations (such as Sutter hospital), and in Disneyland parades. From these experiences as well as my daily training, I have learned many styles, pointe, and ballet, tap, modern, contemporary, parade and jazz. My ambition is to combine them, the groundwork of contemporary, the flying sensation of pointe, the anatomy of modern, and the energy of jazz, while still displaying shapes and emotion in movement. Some choreographers favor specific genders, body types, and colors. The pernicious idea that a dancer should be white and thin is unfair, unrealistic, and unreasonable. As a choreographer, I plan on creating gender-neutral roles. Trans and non-binary dancers are often put aside when it comes to casting Ballets with lead male and female roles. A shorter or taller dancer might be cut out of a cast because they don't fit the unrealistic idea of a ballet body. Even the most talented dancers of color are treated unfairly or asked to keep their race a secret. According to the article, “Lack of POC Dancers Prompts Call for Change, “Only 2.27 percent of ballerinas are African American females(Robinson)”. I plan on removing this idea of “the perfect look” and cast dancers with passion, talent, dedication, and not on how they look or present themself. I value hard work, not on having a company of dancers who look the same. In addition to being a choreographer, I aim to be a mentor to young dancers. Students in dance are often overwhelmed, stressed, or forced into unhealthy eating habits. As a teacher and proponent for well-being physically as well as mind, I will prioritize the mental health of dancers. I want to set up a system that ensures that the well-being of a dancer, body, and mind, is prioritized. While this may seem unreachable, I can make this goal a reality. I plan on attending college for a degree in dance choreography, and connecting with the many people in the industry I have met. I hope to join with one of them and work my way up to the role I desire no matter how long or how much effort it will take. I already have experience and am in a program that will teach me to choreograph and teach dance, as well as get a distinction in dance in my high school diploma. I believe I can achieve this through education, planning, and determination. I can become a choreographer that combines styles of dance, and pushes for a breakthrough in the dance community in terms of mental health and equality. I am ambitious and am excited for my future as well as the future of art.