In my submission, I’ve included a digital painting of my favorite insect: the orchid mantis. This colorful illustration is not one of my more praised fine art pieces; it hasn’t earned awards or been special enough to get put in local exhibits. It may not have a deep, dark meaning behind it about my life or hardships like so many of my other artistic creations, but it is still a piece I hold dear to my heart. Behind this piece exists a story of growth that guides my creative career path today. Other than my love for mantises in general, I was inspired by my online friend group who I’ve had by my side since 8th grade. I struggled to find peers I shared similarities with in high school, but these people from so many different parts of the world became a strong, stable support group for me. It was complete chance that brought us together, and I honestly don’t know where I would be without the safe space we all made for each other. Around the time I made this art piece, my friends and I became obsessed with a trend to anthropomorphize our favorite animals. All of us are artists, so we decided it would be a fun bonding experience to hop on a group video call and start drawing our respective creatures together. We shared a lot of laughs in that digital chat, and even though I’ve been poked fun at by others in the past for my insect infatuation, none of them criticized my choice to draw a mantis instead of a cute bunny or ferocious wolf (two memorable choices my friends made). The drawings we shared were just sketches at the time, but after the experience, the group encouraged me to take my piece further, as I was the one that often talked about needing more challenges to improve my art. Making a finished piece of an anthropomorphized insect that, despite being my favorite, I wasn’t used to drawing seemed like a worthwhile challenge to test and develop my skills. With the support of my friends, what did I have to lose in trying? I found myself wanting to add more personality to the still pose I gave my mantis at first, so repositioned its limbs to indicate movement. I started asking myself questions that before this moment I had completely neglected. How could I make use of certain lighting to give off the tranquil mood I wanted? What background should I add? Could this piece really reach its full potential in the colorless scheme I started with, or would I need to challenge myself by experimenting with colors? Even if I wasn’t sure I could handle it, I tried so many different techniques and practices for this one goal, and something changed in my approach as I added more elements to what was once a simple doodle. I realized I was no longer looking to draw a picture. I wanted to draw a story. Through trial, error, and small victories along the way, I succeeded in developing a finished illustration I remain proud of today: “Orchid Mantis Stroll,” a piece in which a curious, lanky creature explores its rainforest canopy after some light rain and the sun’s return. This was the experience that helped me discover visual development as my passion, and illustration as the field I would thrive in like no other. With this discovery, I run head first toward my dreams of becoming a concept illustrator, my friends, as always, supporting me every step of the way.

When my kindergarten saw me suited for my district’s gifted program, my mother put her all into getting me enrolled. It was an opportunity people like us seldom got, so the stakes were already high from the start. Placed in that “talented” box at such a young age, I was subjected to high expectations to keep up with work I felt inadequate for and relentless pressure to stay on top from both my educators and myself. Having a chance to receive that specialized education was a privilege, and I will not neglect the benefits I received along that pathway. However, the consequences of growing up under such intensive school programming resulted in a surmount of insecurities and psychological battles I still fight today. As I progressed through the stages of my educational career, my obsession with academic success became mentally draining, and I had less and less time to enjoy my creative interests unrelated to what I was demanded of at school. I developed an unhealthy association between the percentages that determined my grade point average and what determined my worth as a person. I was constantly spreading myself thin, sinking into a false narrative that assumed all positivity towards me to be ingenuine and myself to be somehow inferior to everyone I interacted with. Even as my inner turmoils began seeping out into my actions, I refused to open up to anyone. My biggest concern at that time hadn’t been that I would worry the people closest to me, but that I would instead disappoint them by revealing how incompetent I was beneath the self-image I spent years trying to maintain. How disconnected from reality had I become to even think that? With a paranoiac amount of caution, I opened up to my mother not too long after my thoughts spiraled to considering self-harm and even suicide. I was more than aware of the stigma in our demographic regarding mental health, not to mention mental illness, so when I requested professional help to prevent things from getting worse, I was prepared to be dismissed. Instead, my mom booked an appointment with a medical professional immediately. That’s how I came to be diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and minor depressive disorder. The diagnosis explained a lot about the difficulties I faced in life when trying to see situations in neutral lighting. During the conversation I had with my mother that day following the appointment, I was not shamed or criticized like I thought I would be. We talked openly without judgment, and that opened my eyes to the fact that seeing me as “fallen” or “incompetent” hadn’t crossed her mind once, nor would it ever. How much she loved me was never based on any sort of achievement. It was unconditional, and there were more people in my life extending that same love but having their affections doubted in silence. I know it wasn’t completely my fault for having seen things that way, as a mental disorder isn’t something that can be controlled without being seen, but the guilt I felt following the clarity given by the diagnosis was unavoidable. I knew it wasn’t fair to my loved ones or myself to go on the way I was, so I took the initiative to get myself to a healthier state of mind. I invested more of my time in self-counseling. Even though therapy wasn’t affordable for us, I knew that there were other ways I could change my thinking patterns. I began journaling to stop negative thoughts from clouding my head and made sure I was open with those closest to me instead of bottling things up again. I participated in a variety of clubs and activities outside of school to remind myself of the positive impact I can have on others. With time, I stopped worrying about appearing academically competent. I focused on myself and my connections with my peers. I saw the value in practicing compassion more frequently, and in doing so, I was able to connect with more people in my age group with similar interests, ultimately growing as a person. This year, I run full force toward the creative passions I was discouraged from in my blind pursuit of academic success. As I learned to embrace a more authentic version of myself, I was able to establish long-term goals for my educational career, all of which motivate me to continue exceeding the expectations I set for myself, unaffected by the standards of anyone else. My mother stands by me in my decision to pursue a profession that revolves around the arts as opposed to academics, and I feel that, as I allow myself to be more vulnerable with her, our relationship strengthens every day. Through my experiences with poor mental health, I’ve realized the importance of speaking up about these inner struggles, not just to help ourselves, but to help those suffering in silence alongside us. When I opened my ears and listened to the conversations my classmates had around me, I realized how false the superior perception I had of them was. They were coping with the stress and pressure the same way I had. Silently. There is value in vulnerability. One person opening up can lead to millions gathering the courage to do the same. Under a spotlight, I will not pretend to be okay. By overcoming the struggles posed by my disorders and all the trials and tribulations that come with life, I hope to give those struggling as I did, who may end up seeing me as a source of inspiration as I establish myself in a creative field, the motivation to keep going. Through my concept illustrative career in the entertainment industry, I hope to be able to bring more awareness to mental health struggles and disorders with the belief that, through proper representation and acknowledgment, it is possible to set the foundation for a society rid of stigmatization surrounding these life-changing topics.

When life is meaningless, death becomes the same. This realization came to me at a young age as I contemplated ending my life for the first time. The notion failed to uplift me. Instead, I felt trapped in existence, unmotivated to pursue my passions or make the effort to rush to a conclusion. I truly felt nothing I did would matter in totality, and my responses meant to cope with that truth teetered between shutting down and constant distractions. The last thing I expected was to see this struggle presented in theaters. When that happened, it felt like salvation. With the 2022 release of Everything Everywhere All at Once, mass confusion surged within a portion of viewers regarding what could be so fantastic about the sci-fi adventure action drama to cause such emotional responses to circulate on the web. To them, it was just a hectic film consisting of the most absurd alternate universes, inappropriate fight scenes, and weird outfits. The reason the group could not understand was likely that they couldn’t relate to the motifs hidden beneath the drama’s surface. I did more than just relate. I felt. Consistently, I saw myself reflected in the character Joy, better referred to as Jobu Tupaki. I resonated with the state of “never being fully there,” even without my mind being scattered across alternate universes in a literal sense. I emphasized her desire for the pointless cycle and the confusion to end. As I watched her pull farther away from her loved ones towards the end of the film, I knew in my heart that the only difference between her and me in that aspect was time. One scene hit hard enough to follow me throughout the trials and tribulations of life today. One which prevented that possible future from becoming a reality. “Here, all we get are a few specks of time where any of this actually makes any sense,” Jobu Tupaki exasperated in anguish. Evelyn, her mother, responded positively. “Then I will cherish these few specks of time.” At that moment, while just being a spectator, I took something vital from those few words. I decided that something as small as cherishing the brief moments where the confusion subsides and meaning is irrelevant is enough to endure the cycle. No longer chained down by nihilism, I am driven to take the chances I have at every possibility and be the best version of myself in this short life. Existence itself may not have any meaning, but we can create that meaning. We can choose what matters to us. We can choose what to make sense of. When I decided to pursue higher education, I did it because I believed what mattered most to me was being able to pursue my artistic ambitions. To stand out amongst the competition and become able to advocate for the issues I find most pressing through my illustrative career. While I chose what mattered most, I also sought to make sense of everything I felt detached from. I dedicated more time to giving back to my local community, and with each contribution, I am only further inspired to continue as I realize how much of an effect I can have on those around me if nothing else. Encouraged by the belief that I can help at least one person with my vision, I became assured in my aspirations and continue running towards them today. It may be impossible to leave a permanent impact, but we all have the potential to impact what affects us now. We can make something meaningful out of the meaningless.

Honor is not brought about through the acquisition of rank or positions that society uses to deem one worthy of an amount of ill-gained authority. Honor is found at the grassroots of our immediate communities, shown through the small acts of kindness and heroism that make life more forgiving. Honor is not a frivolous thing developed by knocking others down to ascend a social hierarchy, but by giving those less fortunate than you the will to keep going. Reliability and responsibility are two adjectives one must attach to oneself. At the first signs of a struggle, to make yourself present in the minds of those seeking help is the goal. To make yourself distinct as competent enough to reach out to is a sign of true honor. To have integrity is not to proclaim righteousness and preach without practice. It is to adhere not to the morals of those around you but to the morals of yourself. Contradictions are to be avoided, but that is not to say change is to be avoided as well. If one's morals are proven to be ill-founded or ignorant in nature, it is within reason for one to overturn those corrupt principles and adopt new ones. Growth is true integrity. I have been wrong before, and I have grown from those wrongs. It is personal ambition and the drive to achieve that fortify the foundation for success. In a competitive field in which success is scarce, I stand firm in my belief that the current representation of marginalized groups in fictional media is too few. I exemplify integrity daily as I push toward my greater goal to leave an impact in the creative industry and improve the community as a whole by the time I leave. Against the social pressures to conform to one mold, I intend to upturn the status quo in my field of work. Through the incorporation of more diverse demographics in entertainment media, I am determined to help society become more understanding and empathetic toward those of different cultural and ethnic backgrounds. A society with more integrity and honor.

My right to exist once depended on my academic performance. I didn’t know where else to find my self-worth. The numbers in the grade books were just so easy to rely on. It wasn’t a surprise when those worth-determining percentages dropped so did my happiness. What I didn’t anticipate was my will to do much else dropping as well. The effects the quarantine following the start of the COVID-19 pandemic had on the functioning of public schools had a detrimental effect on both my academic prowess and mental wellness. I began to struggle with more subjects once familiar to me, and it hurt to see such a clear descent. I had identified myself with high percentages excessively, and the difficulties of that time forced me to face the consequences of those percentages dropping. The sheer act of entering the school building became something I dreaded since it had become so draining. I was half aware of the many root causes behind this hopeless state but I was always too tired to take any action. The summer following my junior year gave me the time I needed to reevaluate what I wanted from my education and how to prevent the same failures the next school year. My senior year had a much better start. I developed a better understanding of what I could handle and used that to manage the stress in my life in a way that balanced my grades and hobbies outside of school. After some self-counseling and the support of my loved ones, I was able to realize my right to exist never revolved around any form of achievement. It was meant to be unconditional. I learned to be more comfortable with myself and my flaws, to either work on them or not let them define me. I didn’t settle for the growth I accomplished then. I decided to challenge myself to address something else in my life that required improvement. My relationship with art has always been a complicated one. Similar to my view towards academics, I found some of my self-worth in the works I was able to produce and upload to the internet with a need for artistic validation. This led to an unhealthy tendency to seek out immediate gratification while working on art pieces which resulted in most pieces feeling rushed. I was very susceptible to jealousy towards the abilities of other artists despite knowing the differences between their art journeys and mine. All of this built up to a point where I decided it was pertinent to take a break to free myself of that mindset and reevaluate the reason I create. After taking myself out of the ring, I was able to jump back in stronger than before with new strategies and a clear mind. Boredom was the main killer of my enthusiasm while illustrating, so I actively tried to make the process more “fun.” When I got bored of working on one area of the canvas, I would jump to another. When I got bored there, I would jump back. I would allow myself to take breaks without feeling pressured to finish everything in one go. This change helped a lot in making art less like an obligation and more of a choice. I ended up noticeably more productive than I had been towards the end of my art slump. Once I acknowledged my strengths in my craft, I was able to find a solid motivation to push forward with my passions. With more confidence than before, I continue to advance myself toward a better self and a better future today.

The creative industry can be the best ally or greatest suppressor of marginalized demographics. It is through the copious facets of entertainment in their arsenal that harmful stereotypes are most ignorantly portrayed. It is also through a handful of those published works that bigoted behavior is condemned and prejudicial ideologies are fought against in a war for true equality. A war that is still ongoing. Whether it is through more diverse cultural settings or more ethnic appearances in a cast of characters, I believe that the creative industry has the potential to make a positive impact on how society views those different from them through acknowledgment of societal issues and effectively addressing them. I intend to make sure that potential is made better use of. Throughout my secondary education, I will major in illustration and develop a competitive conceptual artwork portfolio that I will use to occupy a position in which I can make sure BIPOC identities are not neglected in the character creation process. By doing this, I believe it is possible to set a stronger foundation for a society that practices empathy and understanding towards those different from them, using the creative industry as a tool to achieve that vision. As someone who’s always enjoyed creating characters that relate to their intersectional identities both facing obstacles from structural inequality, the social pressure many creators in the industry have forced onto them to obey a white male standard to make their works more palatable for an intolerant audience disgusts me. Through my success, I will push more characters of diverse cultural backgrounds and ethnic features into fictional media. I’ve made much smaller contributions to society in pursuit of this greater goal. In my high school career, I have provided constructive advice to my artistic peers in creative writing clubs and art-focused classrooms, both subjects in which I am experienced. Through the encouragement given in such supportive environments, I believe I was able to make as much of an impact on the growing artists around me as they did unto me. Having a chance to trade creative skills amongst my age group fostered my desire to continue helping others as I advance toward my vision. I am also proud to say that I voluntarily aided in the design process of Auburn High School’s Business Academy Mural despite belonging to a different program. Regardless of whether or not it provides a benefit to myself, I have always been willing to help others where I can. Outside of school, I am a recurring blood donor to the Rock River Valley Blood Center, and I independently volunteer once a week at Blackhawk Boys & Girls Club to extend my services to the local youth in my community. Seeing the bright faces of the kids there full of hope reminds me of how my goal to push for more representation in the media will aid future generations of children who still go without significant representation today. With each contribution, I am only further inspired to continue as I realize how much of an effect I can have on those around me. There are always ways to give back to those around you, and that revelation has made my goals more achievable in my eyes than before. With the belief that I can help at least one person with my vision, I became assured in my aspirations and continue running towards them today. I am determined to make sure our faces are seen and voices heard.

In both childhood and adolescence, I immersed myself in a multitude of fictional realms, pushed forward in the media by talented creators whom I still admire to this day. With a wild mind of imagination, my younger self was relentless in consuming the narratives that unraveled with each new cartoon series, fantasy novel, or video game. I was ecstatic when I realized I had the creativity to add to those narratives in my own way. I would most often incorporate new, unofficial characters with my skin tone since the narratives I was fed through multimedia facets of entertainment had very few if any people with my ethnicity. I was able to keep the part of me crying out for representation silent for some time, but as leaves fell and grew off trees many times over, the satisfaction slipped away. I wanted to see myself on the screen. I wanted to read someone that appealed to my marginalized identities in the pages. I wanted character customization settings to let players make their avatars a few shades darker. So, I began creating for myself. The exhilaration that came with sculpting a new story from scratch fueled the embers of passion that burn within me today. The roots of my devotion to storytelling started there, sprouting a bud that would eventually blossom into the desire to build not just stories, but roads. As I got closer to the point in my life in which I would have to choose where I would take my educational path, I hesitated to go further. My mother raised me to show prowess in academics, and I certainly excelled enough to be eligible for more profitable professions than one in the arts. I dreaded branching off into something less conventional, but what I feared most was being without the support of my mom, who knows the hardships that come with financial instability the most, in my creative ventures. It would be a gamble, and I had never played these metaphorical cards in my life. It wasn’t long until I confided in her regarding these concerns, and she told me to question what I really wanted. More than to just draw and make a profit from it. She wanted me to be sure and told me, “Whatever you do, I know it’s going to be big. My baby is going places.” After careful reflection, I remembered the roots that carried me to where I am today. The little girl who cried silently for representation. The one who felt left out when the cast of characters would only include actors many shades lighter than her with much straighter hair. I learned that there was something more important to me than getting big in my industry. It was making sure one less child went without that aching feeling of being absent in the stories they love. I’ve made it my goal to become that person that creates the representation I never got to see growing up. I’ve disciplined myself to keep a schedule that will show self-improvement as the years go on. I’ve proved to be an inspiration to my artistic peers and I’ve helped them grow through tutorials and other forms of assistance. My efforts have been paying off in recognition through local art museum exhibits, award checks, and college acceptance offers. I will continue to surpass every landmark I make for myself and aim higher so future generations of youth may feel confident enough to do so as well. I will create worlds in which others like me can fully immerse themselves, without the ache of exclusion.

My mother gave away her 20s to raise me, and I will admit I didn’t realize how much she’s done for my educational journey until the maturity to understand slowly seeped in. When my kindergarten saw me fit for my district’s gifted program, my mom put her all into getting me enrolled, knowing it was an opportunity people like us seldom got. When I was adamant about leaving the program after 4th grade because I felt inadequate for the work being assigned, she didn’t dismiss my feelings of discouragement and took me right out. She enrolled me into public school programs that were more my pace, and it benefited me in a way that rebuilt my confidence towards academics and prepared me to enter the gifted program again, which my mom made happen too. My mother has always supported me in everything I did. Even when I fell victim to overwhelming symptoms of depression and anxiety while yet to be diagnosed with the disorders, she validated my fears and consoled me by telling me I was strong. She had to have strength to make sure I and my younger brothers were raised with a good upbringing in a good environment. She had to have strength to financially support us all for the years she was the only source of income in the household. She had strength when she was on her own at 16 years old, and she knew I had that strength too. Art as a career is heavily undermined in our community and so many others in which financial stability is a priority above all else. I am not demonizing that viewpoint, as poverty has been a struggle within our demographic for over a century, and the current societal systems upheld make it even harder for anyone from that demographic to achieve success. Despite these concerns, when I started showing a serious commitment to the arts, my mother didn’t dissuade me from pursuing a career in it. She never once called my goals unrealistic. Instead, she supported my passions and gave me as much advice as she could on how to best approach my aspirations. Often, I would look for inspirational figures in the media that looked like me. I wanted to see myself in those who had already earned themselves a name in the industry I wanted to enter. I wished constantly for some distant figure to give me the motivation to fully chase my dream, late in realizing that figure has always been my mother. She may not be an artist, but she got past every obstacle thrown at her, carrying the strength to bear the pain that came with pushing forward. As her child, I was motivated to push myself as well. Throughout my secondary education, I will major in illustration and develop a competitive conceptual artwork portfolio that I can use to occupy a position where I will make sure characters with diverse backgrounds and appearances are not neglected in the character creation process. By doing this, I believe it is possible to set a stronger foundation for a society that practices empathy and understanding towards those different from them, using the creative industry as a tool to achieve that vision. With extraneous efforts, I will make sure the marginalized voices in my community and many others are heard. We can make sure we are heard. We all have the strength to make that happen.

Fiction influences reality. The extent to which it does has always been debated, but it's an undeniable truth that audiences, regardless of intention, take as much thought away from what is shown through facets of entertainment just as much as what is fed through news articles. The creative industry is responsible for every stereotype and ignorant caricature pushed through characters and themes in published works. The creative industry is also responsible for the works that push against racist ideologies and bigoted behavior. Through entertainment media, it is possible to upturn problematic societal norms through acknowledgment and continued exposure. One issue in modern creative media that I find most pressing is the subconscious tendency to envision the straight white male as a default setting in character creation. Whenever a character does not match that standard image, a “why” is always demanded. “The protagonist being a girl serves no purpose to the plot.” “Why did they have to make the character black?” “There was no reason to make this character queer.” It is still deemed a part of “woke” culture on various platforms for characters to exist as a part of any marginalized group, and very rarely do white characters ever endure that same treatment. As someone who’s always enjoyed creating characters that I can see my intersectional identities represented in through background and appearance, the social pressure many creators in the industry have on them to obey the white male standard to make their works more palatable for an intolerant audience disgusts me. Through my success as a concept artist and illustrationist, I want to push more characters of diverse cultural backgrounds and darker skin tones into fictional media. I want to bring society closer to a social setting in which “why” when it comes to a character’s race, sexual identity, or gender identity isn’t asked anymore. Those people have the right to exist without the need to defend that existence, both in fiction and reality. Through my secondary education at an accredited art university, I plan to take the opportunities provided to metamorphose myself into a more employable artist while making connections that could help me pursue a career in concept art, preferably complex character design. Whether it be through the development of personal, self-funded projects or works that are part of a larger studio production, I intend to help marginalized identities and voices be acknowledged and accepted through the screens of the world as something that doesn’t need to be explained. Something that people can demonstrate empathy towards instead of dismissal or rage. My main aspirations include helping the black community be seen more in a field in which we are so underrepresented, advocating for the understanding and acceptance of marginalized communities, and introducing something new into this constantly changing world. My name is Ereden Cossia. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship.