I sat hunched over, tears streaming down my face, waiting for the results to be announced over the loudspeakers. As I looked around, gripping the hands of the teammates I had trained with for six months, we heard the words: “State Runner-Up is Cherry Creek High School.” At that moment, we all knew—we were State Champions. The late nights, the physical and mental exhaustion, and all the sacrifices we had made were worth it. I felt an overwhelming mix of relief and pride for what we had accomplished. I began dancing when I was three years old, dressed in a light pink leotard and tutu. Dance was immediately a safe place where I could escape hard days, surrounded by people who understood the art of movement. As I entered school, I slowly began to realize that although dance came easily, reading, writing and focusing was very difficult. I watched as my peers understood how to read, articulate their thoughts and complete assignments, while I sat frozen at my desk. It felt like I had missed something, like my brain just wasn’t wired the same way. Paragraphs seemed endless, and starting a task felt nearly impossible. I learned to rely on my peers asking them to read for me or avoid assignments. I felt my confidence slowly crumble, but each night when I went to dance I was transported into a different world. I had confidence, trust in my abilities and acceptance from everyone around me. Peers looked to me for help which was a vast contrast to the school day. In second grade, my teacher, Ms. Messmer, noticed my struggles and referred me for an assessment. Tests revealed that I had Dyslexia and ADD. They were terms I didn’t fully understand at the time, but ones that finally gave a name to the challenges I had faced. I began receiving additional reading instruction, and by fourth grade, I could read! Despite this breakthrough, I still lacked confidence in the classroom. Yet each night in the dance studio, I was transported into a different world. I had confidence, trust in my abilities and acceptance from everyone around me. Peers looked to me for help which was a vast contrast to the school day. As I grew, I realized the lessons I learned in dance extended far beyond technique or flawless pirouettes. I looked at the bigger picture and realized that going on autopilot would not get me to where I needed to go. I made a conscious effort to complete every assignment, ask questions in class, and advocate for myself. The discipline I had developed through dance translated into the classroom. I began seeking extra help during Access periods, determined to understand the content taught. Additionally, the mandatory coaching meetings in dance helped me become more comfortable expressing myself in job interviews or everyday conversations. Above all, I learned that consistency and hard work always pay off. No longer the little girl in a pink leotard, I now stand as a captain in front of the student section, leading my team in dances and spurring school spirit. What began as a fun activity for a little girl has become the foundation of my confidence and perseverance. Dance taught me to work through difficulty, to advocate for myself, and to believe in my abilities even when things don’t come easily. Next year in college, these lessons will guide me as I meet new people, face new challenges, and give my all to everything I pursue.

I sat hunched over, tears streaming down my face, waiting for the results to be announced over the loudspeakers. As I looked around, gripping the hands of the teammates I had trained with for six months, we heard the words: “State Runner-Up is Cherry Creek High School.” At that moment, we all knew—we were State Champions. The late nights, the physical and mental exhaustion, and all the sacrifices we had made were worth it. I felt an overwhelming mix of relief and pride for what we had accomplished. I began dancing when I was three years old, dressed in a light pink leotard and tutu. Dance was immediately a safe place where I could escape hard days, surrounded by people who understood the art of movement. As I entered school, I slowly began to realize that although dance came easily, reading, writing and focusing was very difficult. I watched as my peers understood how to read, articulate their thoughts and complete assignments, while I sat frozen at my desk. It felt like I had missed something, like my brain just wasn’t wired the same way. Paragraphs seemed endless, and starting a task felt nearly impossible. I learned to rely on my peers asking them to read for me or avoid assignments. I felt my confidence slowly crumble, but each night when I went to dance I was transported into a different world. I had confidence, trust in my abilities and acceptance from everyone around me. Peers looked to me for help which was a vast contrast to the school day. In second grade, my teacher, Ms. Messmer, noticed my struggles and referred me for an assessment. Tests revealed that I had Dyslexia and ADD. They were terms I didn’t fully understand at the time, but ones that finally gave a name to the challenges I had faced. I began receiving additional reading instruction, and by fourth grade, I could read! Despite this breakthrough, I still lacked confidence in the classroom. Yet each night in the dance studio, I was transported into a different world. I had confidence, trust in my abilities and acceptance from everyone around me. Peers looked to me for help which was a vast contrast to the school day. As I grew, I realized the lessons I learned in dance extended far beyond technique or flawless pirouettes. I looked at the bigger picture and realized that going on autopilot would not get me to where I needed to go. I made a conscious effort to complete every assignment, ask questions in class, and advocate for myself. The discipline I had developed through dance translated into the classroom. I began seeking extra help during Access periods, determined to understand the content taught. Additionally, the mandatory coaching meetings in dance helped me become more comfortable expressing myself in job interviews or everyday conversations. Above all, I learned that consistency and hard work always pay off. No longer the little girl in a pink leotard, I now stand as a captain in front of the student section, leading my team in dances and spurring school spirit. What began as a fun activity for a little girl has become the foundation of my confidence and perseverance. Dance taught me to work through difficulty, to advocate for myself, and to believe in my abilities even when things don’t come easily. Next year in college, these lessons will guide me as I meet new people, face new challenges, and give my all to everything I pursue. More about me! I am a 4 year member of the Rock Canyon Dance Team, where we won State in the 5A Poms division. This year I was elected Captain of my dance team where I enjoyed leading the team with kindness and encouragement. Being on the dance team, I had the privilege of cheering/dancing at Football games, Boys and Girls Basketball games and Girls Volleyball games. My high school dance team kept me busy dancing 20 hours a week, but I was able to volunteer over 50 hours of my time at youth sports in struggling neighborhoods. Here are some awards I have won in my high school career: 2025 All American Dancer, 3 time State Champion, 3 time League Champion, 3 time National Finalist, 2024 Honorable Mention All Conference, 2025 5A All State Team, 2025 First Time All Conference. Although I am proud of these accomplishments, I am most proud of being awarded the Academic Honor Roll. Being dyslexic, I am most proud of this accomplishment.

I sat hunched over, tears streaming down my face, waiting for the results to be announced over the loudspeakers. As I looked around, gripping the hands of the teammates I had trained with for six months, we heard the words: “State Runner-Up is Cherry Creek High School.” At that moment, we all knew—we were State Champions. The late nights, the physical and mental exhaustion, and all the sacrifices we had made were worth it. I felt an overwhelming mix of relief and pride for what we had accomplished. I began dancing when I was three years old, dressed in a light pink leotard and tutu. Dance was immediately a safe place where I could escape hard days, surrounded by people who understood the art of movement. As I entered school, I slowly began to realize that although dance came easily, reading, writing and focusing was very difficult. I watched as my peers understood how to read, articulate their thoughts and complete assignments, while I sat frozen at my desk. It felt like I had missed something, like my brain just wasn’t wired the same way. Paragraphs seemed endless, and starting a task felt nearly impossible. I learned to rely on my peers asking them to read for me or avoid assignments. I felt my confidence slowly crumble, but each night when I went to dance I was transported into a different world. I had confidence, trust in my abilities and acceptance from everyone around me. Peers looked to me for help which was a vast contrast to the school day. In second grade, my teacher, Ms. Messmer, noticed my struggles and referred me for an assessment. Tests revealed that I had Dyslexia and ADD. They were terms I didn’t fully understand at the time, but ones that finally gave a name to the challenges I had faced. I began receiving additional reading instruction, and by fourth grade, I could read! Despite this breakthrough, I still lacked confidence in the classroom. Yet each night in the dance studio, I was transported into a different world. I had confidence, trust in my abilities and acceptance from everyone around me. Peers looked to me for help which was a vast contrast to the school day. As I grew, I realized the lessons I learned in dance extended far beyond technique or flawless pirouettes. I looked at the bigger picture and realized that going on autopilot would not get me to where I needed to go. I made a conscious effort to complete every assignment, ask questions in class, and advocate for myself. The discipline I had developed through dance translated into the classroom. I began seeking extra help during Access periods, determined to understand the content taught. Additionally, the mandatory coaching meetings in dance helped me become more comfortable expressing myself in job interviews or everyday conversations. Above all, I learned that consistency and hard work always pay off. No longer the little girl in a pink leotard, I now stand as a captain in front of the student section, leading my team in dances and spurring school spirit. What began as a fun activity for a little girl has become the foundation of my confidence and perseverance. Dance taught me to work through difficulty, to advocate for myself, and to believe in my abilities even when things don’t come easily. Next year in college, these lessons will guide me as I meet new people, face new challenges, and give my all to everything I pursue.