“Curiosity killed the cat.” Chances are you've heard this saying. It is often repeated to children who stick their noses where it doesn't belong, and ask questions to things that either have no answers, or the answers are not yet ready to be said. It's a warning against curiosity. Get too far, and all you will receive is a dead end. However, there is a lesser known second half, one that I am far more fond of than the original. “Satisfaction brought it back” Put together, the message is entirely different. Yes, curiosity has many pitfalls. It can get you into trouble. But the saying also suggests that the satisfaction of knowing the answers will be enough to soothe all the stings you gained on the way. The view is worth the climb, the destination worth the journey, the answer worth the curiosity. It is for this reason that I treasure my curiosity so greatly. Life is wonderful and weird. It's full of questions no one knows the answers to. If one were satisfied with not knowing, then they would become stagnant. Curiosity is what pushes people forwards. It's what pushes me forwards. Five-year-old me was curious about the dancing sharks that would burst from the waves in sprays of white to snatch up seals in one gulp. Now, fifteen years later, I am working towards a degree in marine science, and this curiosity has not relaxed. If anything, it has only grown more prominent. Is the pelagic thresher population made up of one species, or two? Is there a ratio that considers the head width, the pectoral fin span, and the height of the upper dorsal fin in hammerheads? Why is virgin birth in sharks so prevalent, and how common is it outside lab conditions? Every day, I learn a bit more. Every day, another question pops into my head. Yes, curiosity can get people into trouble, but it gets them somewhere. Somewhere with more knowledge. Somewhere where satisfaction in achieving the answers to their questions will sit warm in their stomach and sooth all the aches and pains the journey collected. It got me where I am today. It pushed me on the path to community college, to college, and it will take me even further. One cannot be a scientist without valuing curiosity. In fact, a scientist's very existence wouldn't be possible without curiosity. Science is all about asking questions. It's all about exploring those questions. The path to science is paved with questions, answers lying just beyond reach, and often revealing more questions beyond. For any budding scientist, their curiosity will be their main weapon. It's what got me this far. It's what will get me further. So say, if you will, that curiosity killed the cat. But satisfaction will bring me back, and I will keep coming for more.

Oceans cover 70% of our world, yet they remain a mystery. Much of what lies beneath the depths teases us, but remains unreachable. Environments, species, it’s like a different world down there. Even for the species that have been discovered and well documented, we are constantly finding out new facts about them that lead to a rise in new questions.  I have always loved mysteries. From puzzles to mystery games, I could spend hours putting together the pieces of something larger until I could see the whole. So, the mysteries surrounding the ocean fascinate me. This fascination is only encouraged by my love of oceanic creatures. I have wanted to study sharks since I was five. At first, this want started out with ‘sharks are cool, and I don’t want them to die off.’ Now, I’ve started to see the scope of all the things that we don’t know. Many shark species reside in the light of public awareness, and have been studied accordingly. Many more are unknown, with new species still being discovered. All of these species have questions that itch at my brain.  Do great whites exhibit natal homing? If they do, how exact is it? Pelagic threshers exhibit two Evolutionary Significant Units, but do they truly show a Cryptic Species Complex? If they do, what does this mean for this species? How does the sister species differ? Just how often do sharks reproduce asexually in the wild? How many species can accomplish this feat?  These are just some examples of the questions circling my mind, and all of them are important for conservation.  Great White natal homing sights are places that need to be protected to keep this species’ population from declining. A cryptic Species Complex in Pelagic Threshers needs to be either proven or disproven, as it could affect the endangered status of Pelagic Threshers for the worse. The rate of asexual births in the wild has to be discovered, as asexual reproduction is a great way to keep the species going in dire straits, but has damaging effects upon population genetics.  I am ready to dedicate my life to discovering the answers to questions like these, which makes me an ideal candidate for this scholarship.  Since high school, I’ve been taking steps forward. I attended middle college, and graduated from high school with an Associates in Science. From there, I moved to Eckerd College, a school with a notable program in marine biology. It is here that I am working towards a Bachelor's in Marine biology, and I'm on track to graduate early. From there, I plan to attend Duke University for my graduate degree.  I have participated in volunteer work with Florida’s Fish and Wildlife Institute. I took a class in elasmobranchs last year, and got to experience what it was like to be on a shark research boat. This year I plan to take a study abroad class that would take me to Bimini – a place notable in their lemon shark research. I also plan to participate in student research opportunities and look into internships for the summer.  But all of this takes money. With a teacher and a service worker for parents, I do not have much to work with. Every bit that I am saved from having to give to tuition is something that I can put aside for student debt, research opportunities, internships, and a cost of living that is rapidly rising as our economy inflates.  This scholarship will do wonders for lessening the expensive path I have chosen to walk. 

For most, the words ‘asexual reproduction’ bring up thoughts about plants and bacteria. This isn't wrong. Many organisms without spines can reproduce asexually, but the number of vertebrates with this ability are limited. Yet, there are some fascinating examples of vertebrates that can do this.  Sharks are one. White tip reef sharks. Zebra sharks. Nurse sharks. White spotted bamboo sharks. Bonnet heads. Black tips. Swell sharks. That’s seven species of sharks known. There could be more.  This absolutely fascinates me.  More interesting are the oddities that surround the occurrence. Asexual reproduction not only leads to reproductively viable children, but children that can also reproduce asexually. This leads to a phenomenon where the first generation are half clones, but the second generation are full clones.  Additionally, some asexually born children have claspers – the male reproductive structure. Currently, it’s commonly thought that sharks run on an XX and XY system, but this discovery negates that. An XX and XY system would not have led to clasper formation. This suggests that some shark species have an unknown sex determination system. Even more intriguing is the fact that sharks can have a clutch of eggs with both asexually and sexually reproduced eggs. Tests in artificial insemination proved this. In every clutch laid, there were asexually reproduced eggs. The semen might have degraded, but it also leads to the realization that some sharks in the wild are born via asexual reproduction.  This last bit in particular is what I consider the most interesting part. Asexual reproduction decreases genetic diversity, and is therefore harmful to a population. For a shark to still use it when other modes are present begs the question, why? We don’t have those answers yet, but boy do I want to figure it out. 

LGBTQ+ lives can be very difficult depending on how much support and care they receive from others. This is something that practically everyone knows, although whether they choose to make those lives more difficult or choose to support them is a different story. However, there are some identities in the LGBTQ+ family that are practically invisible. They’re seldom talked about, and many don’t see them as belonging under the LGBTQ+ banner.  I’m talking about aromantics and asexuals, both categories I belong to.  In a society obsessed with relationships, be they romantic or sexual, aromantic and asexual identities can be seen as abnormal. Aroaces get less support than many other LGBTQ+ identities, if only because people don’t know or believe that they actually exist. Even within the LGBTQ+, they are often ostracized for being so different. Not only do we have familial expectations to get married and have children, but we have a culture’s expectation as well – something that we can never live up to.  Currently, I am a third year in college. I have never dated anyone. I have never kissed anyone. These are all things I have no inclination to do, and yet every time I come home, my family asks me if I’ve met any boys or any girls. My Granny never fails to ask or mention someone cute that I might like or should meet.  By now, I’m used to it. I can shake my head no and say I’m not interested. Still, it hurts. Shouldn’t they know by now I have no interest in that? Why do they keep pressing if they know? Have they even tried to understand? So, I threw myself into my studies.  My major is marine biology, and where I used to have too few goals in this field of education, I now have too many.  I want to know more about how so many species of sharks can reproduce asexually, and if possible, figure out if shark sex determination is done on a scale that’s different from XX and XY. Another thing that has sparked my interest is the cryptic species complex and the pelagic thresher population, something that has been hinted at with recent looks into their genetics, but not yet proven. Finally, I want to know if there’s a ratio between head size, pectoral fin size, and the first dorsal fin size in hammerheads. Like I said, plenty of educational goals. I’ll have to work on them in the future.  These are all important things that need to be discovered in the field of shark biology. Information is essential, after all … and it’s information that I believe the aroace community needs. If we continue to be unseen, then we will not be accepted by our families, by the LGBTQ+ community, by our cultures. So, although my field of education and my goals for the future do not seem like they coincide with making an impact on the LGBTQ+ community, they will. Because I will be seen.  As a scientist, I will be known for my work, and I will be known in my field. Should my work become known, I will garner some attention. When that attention falls to me, I will not shift, I will not look away. I will show who I am, scientist, aroace, and all. This identity of mine will no longer be hidden. I will no longer be invisible.  And hopefully, some other aroace kid with an eye for science will see that and take comfort that they will not be invisible either. 

Many jobs have obvious benefits if you’re healthy. Most require basic things – the ability to lift a certain amount, the ability to stand or sit for long periods of time. Some – like construction work – come with evident dangers. The job I want is one of those jobs that requires me to be physically healthy and ready to face threats to my body. Currently, I am a junior studying Marine Science. My future plans include graduate school for Marine Biology, and a close association with marine species, specifically sharks. Sharks have always interested me. Things like migratory patterns of population genetics or species behavior is absolutely fascinating. However, as you might guess, this job would require a person to be physically healthy and fit. Certain types of shark study require tagging, this requires even more effort. One can’t tag sharks if they can’t get them out of the water, after all. The requirements of my job makes healthy living important to me. I’m not sure if there’s anyone who likes to feel unhealthy, but I certainly don’t. Simple things like sickness frustrates me to no end. I can’t concentrate if I feel dirty or unwell, which certainly hampers my efforts into learning what is required of me. As a result, I do my best to be healthy. My efforts start with the simple things. Taking a shower every one to two days. Making sure I eat three meals every day. Brushing, flossing, and swishing every night. All of these things are small, but they are big steps in taking care of yourself. Even small things can make a world of difference for attitudes and how the day has gone. Showers can be for cleaning and recuperating after a long day. Going hungry sharpens my attitude, so I never ignore my hungry stomach. Taking care of my teeth is basic hygiene and makes sure I look presentable for the upcoming day. Yet, these basic steps are not the only things I do to stay healthy. I walk a lot. I walked for my job on campus, when I would check the equipment in classrooms. To and from class I would walk, sometimes jogging or running if I was really pressed for time. Walking was one of the biggest forms of exercise I had when school and homework ate up most of my time. Walking, in some senses, kept me sane. But beyond my bodies’ health, I also made sure to take care of my mental health. Mental health is important when it feels like everything you do is school related. Because of that, I have a rule. All work ceases at 7:00pm. From 7:00 to when I went to bed, I was taking care of myself. On weekdays, that time was around three hours long. On weekends, that time would be longer. Either way, that no schoolwork zone kept me sane. This brings me to my last point. The final reason why healthy living is so critical to me is that it keeps me sane. If I can take care of myself, then I haven’t reached my breaking point yet. And when so much rests on my shoulders, that is indispensable. As long as I can take care of myself, as long as I don’t reach my breaking point, then I will be able to reach the future I so desperately want.

When someone says sharks, a positive impact is not the first thing people think of. They think of the movie Jaws. They think of monsters swimming in dark waters, cutting through them in a relentless, endless search for prey. Beasts, monsters, predators. Not something that could affect the world positively. However, this is incorrect. We can learn a lot from the animal kingdom. Spiders silk is stronger than steel and can be used for a multitude of things. Medicine has heavily depended on plants to carry it forwards, and has more recently relied on bacteria to help it along the way. Anywhere you look, there are lessons to be learned, things to be gained. This applies to sharks as well. One is how durable sharks are against cancer; although they can get it, it is rare and even rarely the malignant kind. The second is valuable information about longevity, as seen with Greenland sharks and their amazing 500-year lifespan. For most of my life, sharks have fascinated me. Shark week was a major part of father-daughter bonding time. When I visited the beach, shark tooth hunting was at the top of my list. I have a water bottle half full of the teeth I’ve found washed up on the sand. This fascination didn’t fade as I grew. If anything, it only expanded. Sharks are why I’m studying Marine Biology, and I believe that learning more about them could make a positive impact on the world. This positive impact doesn’t just have to be for humans. Although sharks could have large impacts in cancer research or telomere research, most of their worth is with the environment. Sharks are a major indicator for an environment’s health. Take, for example, coral reefs. A coral reef with a healthy shark population is one that is doing well, but a coral reef with a low shark population is on the decline. Coral reef restoration will cause a return to normal shark population levels. So sharks are critical indicators of an environment’s status, but why is this so important? Well, for one, coral reefs have some of the largest biodiversity of any environment. They are home to a wide variety of fish, plankton, and corals. They support many species that are often part of fisheries. Additionally, they are vital for ecotourism. Coral reefs are indispensable, and protecting them protects sharks, and protecting sharks protects them. Cancer research, telomere research, and coral reef protection are just three examples of the positive impacts my career can bring. Many people believe that marine science is a field that won’t have an impact on the larger world. Certainly, it doesn’t have the shine of many other careers, but it does give something vital. It gives us information. Oceans cover 75% of the world, and knowing what goes on with the creatures in their depths, and being able to apply that information to our lives, is critical for our future.

From where I stand, animal advocacy has many paths one can go down. One of these is with animal shelters – providing a safe place for domesticated animals while they await for new owners and new homes. The other path deals with wild species, and can be as complicated – but in most cases more so – as the first. Wild species are harder to advocate for, as many that need protecting are dangerous, and fear is very much a factor that rules humans when it comes to wild animal interactions. This path also has to take environmental factors into concern, something that is much harder to control than human actions. Both paths are important for animal advocacy. Domesticated animals are essential for the mental health of many. Wild animals are critical for environmental stability and biodiversity. However, many people seem to lean towards one path or the other. I, on the other hand, find myself dabbling in both. Ever since I was a child, I have lived with animals. There hasn’t been a period of time when my family didn’t have pets. I spent my childhood with cats and dogs, with wild things waiting for me just outside the door. Right now we have five cats, one dog, a snake, a leopard gecko, multiple bird nests in the barn and porch, snakes in the garden, and whatever rabbits, moles, and the like call our yard home. My interest in animal advocacy half comes from living in the woods, and half comes from a family of animal lovers. Even my chosen profession deals with animals, only the wild variety instead of the domesticated. Currently, I am an undergraduate student working towards a major in Marine Biology. The creatures of the ocean absolutely fascinate me. In particular, I want to work with sharks. The wide varieties found in this species – from the classic great white to odd sharks like the wobbegong - catch my attention like nothing else. I can’t wait to get started on learning their secrets and how to better protect their populations. Because of how my interests and background intertwine with the animal kingdom, I am a big believer in animal advocacy. When I had to do volunteer work for my phi beta kappa chapter, the first thought I had in mind was volunteering with my local animal shelter. That is exactly what I ended up doing. I got to work in animal socialization and (less fun) kennel cleaning. However, I knew every bit of work was important for the animal’s livelihoods. I certainly wouldn’t want to live in a place that smelled like poop! I also have experience with volunteering at places that work with wild animals. This school year, I volunteered with the Florida Fish and Wildlife Research Institute. The work I did – water sampling – wasn’t glamorous, but animal advocacy for wild species needs a scientific base. For marine species, this means knowledge about the environments is necessary. In many cases, problems with the environment leads to problems for the species living in them. These are concerns that can be nipped in the bud if we monitor and keep safe the environment. All of these factors tie into why animal advocacy is so vital to me. I have lived with animals, domesticated and wild, my whole life. My dream career would be to work with them in the wild. I have experiences with shelters and research institutes dedicated to monitoring them. Animal advocacy is an important part of my life, and I wouldn’t be who I am without it.

Despite being a science major who insists on being absolutely fascinated by sharks, I do dabble in the creative arts more than not. If anything, my imagination has been a recurring problem. Daydreaming and doodling in the margins of my notes has led to me missing important information before. But it is something that I can’t help. I’m a compulsive drawer. When my teacher talks, and I’ve already written down the notes on the board, I’ll be doodling. I’ve found that it helps me retain information (as long as I don’t get too absorbed in it). It also keeps me from jittering out of my seat in the middle of class. I also find that drawing helps calm me down. When it’s been a stressful day, I can pull out my sketch pad and start doodling. I’ll lose myself to the scratch of pencil against paper, focused on nothing but getting lines right and the image in my mind down. If an image comes out particularly well, I’ll outline it in pen and play around with shading or coloring. Most often shading, though. I like black and whites with a few colors picked out in pen for contrast. Drawing isn’t the only way I let out my creative urges, though. I also love to write. Not scientific papers, or research ones. No, instead, I love to write stories. A great way to get rid of frustration is to throw two characters into a dangerous situation and see how they’ll come out on top. Fantasy, character interactions, snippets, alternate universes – if I’m not working, reading, or drawing, then I’m writing. It is this creativity that has kept me sane in one of the busiest school years of my life.

I have always been an ocean child. Even when young, the sound of crashing waves and the threat of things lurking in the deep didn’t scare me. Instead, they fascinated me. This fascination stuck when I started watching Shark Week with my dad. I have wanted to study these powerful, mysterious creatures ever since. However, my goals for the future remained undefined. I wanted to study sharks, but that was about as much information I could give anyone. I didn’t know enough to have a particular pull in any direction. Yet recently, things have changed. Now, I have too many things in this field that interest me. This semester, I got the opportunity to take an elasmobranch – sharks and rays – class. The lessons didn’t only take place in the classroom, but also in the field. My class was lucky enough to spend the day on a shark tagging boat, and I got my first look into what my career might end up being. This process fascinated me. The variety of sharks we tagged snagged my attention, as did the multiple uses of this practice. The experience opened doors that I never even thought existed. But it was not the only one to do so. My topic for my Genetics paper was the population genetics of pelagic threshers – something my elasmobranch teacher had mentioned once and had not left my mind since. The results of my research showed the possibility of a cryptic species complex (where a species looks identical to another but is genetically different) within the pelagic thresher population. Although this hasn’t been conclusively proven to be the case of pelagic threshers, it is very interesting, and a new goal of mine is to find out the truth to this mystery.

I have a small voice. One that trips over itself in awkward clumsiness. One that mispronounces things that should have been easy to say. Years of speech therapy have got me to where I am today – stringing sentences together verbally well enough, until I get nervous or excited. It’s then when things get jumbled, and I have to pick apart the pieces of too rushed sentences to figure out what I was trying to say. Needless to say, a situation where people say something I disagree with or do something I disagree with is one of those times when words fail me. My throat locks up. My eyes grow hot. The words I want to say take steps back from the tip of my tongue, until they can pitch down my throat and sink stone-like to the bottom of my stomach. Later, they’ll climb back up to run circles around my mind, stringing together arguments and disagreements. Of course, by then, it’s too late to let them flow. I have a lot of memories like that. Times when I cringe and flinch away from things I didn’t say years ago. It’s not a pleasant experience. I don’t like being haunted by the ghosts of arguments that I didn’t let loose. However, I am getting better. I’ve discovered that the tipping point between nervousness and anger will loosen my tongue and get the words flowing. When it’s someone I care about saying things I hate, then the floodgates will open. All the words I want to say come out in a gush. It’s easier to stand my ground. It’s easier to speak my mind. Now I just have to get better at doing so with strangers.

Verbally, I am bad with words. When I speak, what I want to say gets caught up and tangled into knots, and what comes out of my mouth is a stuttering mess that doesn’t make sense even to me. So when I show empathy, I try not to do it verbally, otherwise I’ll make a mess of things, and that would only make someone feel worse. Actions are far easier for me to use. A hand placed carefully on someone's shoulder conveys more than my tripped up words could ever manage. Hugs are another way I show empathy. Side ones or quick ones, and sometimes longer ones so the message ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I’m here for you’ can come across. Other times I’ll just lean against their side. That helps a lot, I find. Touch is grounding. Touch helps. But where I truly shine is listening. I am quiet by nature, still and patient. When someone rambles or vents, I can just sit still and listen, nodding along and making soft, encouraging sounds. I can listen to people’s stories, through the whole, messy thing, and when they are done I can lean against their side and wrestle my words into a “I’m sorry” or if it’s a particularly bad one, “Shit, that sucks. I’m sorry.” Listening, a bit of touch, and an ‘I’m sorry’ goes a long way, I’ve found.

My workload for the past year, to put into simple terms, has been hell. From 8:20 in the morning to 7:00 at night, I worked. Lectures, readings, writing, math – I slept, ate, and breathed school. But despite the work load I was carrying, I still managed to push myself forwards, and that was because I still tried to take care of myself. No matter how heavy my workload was, or how many assignments I needed to complete, I told myself I would not work past 7:00 pm. At that time, I put all work away. All books were closed, all assignments stuck in their folders and set side. From 7:00 to 10:00 was my relaxation time. I played games on my phone. I read webcomics and books. If I could work my tired brain up to it, I wrote fan fiction. It was these three hours of relaxation time that saved my life. Organic chemistry with four other classes grabbed me by the throat and shook me side to side. The workload and the memorization that Marine and Freshwater Botany required from me dropped from above and crushed me under its weight. But I managed. I struggled through those classes and came out on top. I believe I managed this because I took such good care of myself. The three hours before bed were my 'brain off' hours. No matter what, I made sure that I had eight hours of sleep every night. On weekends, I managed to squeeze more things I wanted to do for myself into my schedule. Those tricks to relaxation helped me along the school year. Now, free and home for summer, I have the chance to recuperate for the next.

Middle School book fairs tended to be my favorite time of the year. I browsed through the cardboard set up, fingers feathering over covers and thumb rubbing across pages. So many stories, so many of them at discount prices, and me with money in my pocket just waiting to be spent. I was in heaven. It was eight years ago – sixth grade and book hungry – that I discovered my holy grail of literature. Lockwood and Co. The Screaming Staircase by Jonathan Stroud. It was the first in a series, although I didn’t know it at the time. The cover drew me in, particularly the big red sticker proclaiming the price of three dollars. I picked it up, flipped it over. The summary grabbed me by the throat and wouldn’t let go. It was about ghosts. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I was sold. So I paid my three dollars and took the book home, cracked it open and began to read. Immediately, I was dragged into a twisted, haunted world. Descriptions leapt off the page. The humor was on point, the pacing excellent. Every character was unique and attention grabbing in their own way. The ghosts were, of course, terrifying. It was everything I’d wanted and more. For years, I read, and reread this book, until I discovered that there were more. Now I own the whole series. The Creeping Shadow (book four of five) sits beside me. This is my celebratory reread of the series for its upcoming Netflix TV show. It is not the first reread I have done, but none of the other books show the wear and tear book one does. Out of all of them, The Screaming Staircase continues to be my favorite.

I didn’t use to be scared. If anything, I used to be a precocious child, reckless and eager. The whole world stood before me, and if anything in that world interested me, I would throw myself at it without thinking about what might come after. Nothing would stop me. No obstacle would sit in my path. The threat of failure didn’t phase me one bit. But in the years past, something has changed. I’m no longer the kid I once was. I don’t know what the start of that change was. Maybe I never will. But once upon a time I was on the top of the world and unafraid to look down, now I stand at the bottom of the stairs, hesitant, looking up, and keenly aware of the cost of falling. That might just be what growing up does to someone. Experiences build up on top of one another, and when you forge ahead, your path is littered with past failures. They cling to your legs, slowing you down, until it's impossible to forge ahead like you once did. It’s not a comfortable mindset. I don’t like sitting at the computer and staring at an application, wanting to go for it, terrified to try for the fear of not getting it, wishing for my childhood bravery to rise like a ghost and push me forwards to success. But it never does. That’s something that I’ve learned very well by now. That naivety and recklessness that used to propel me is gone. In its place is caution, uncertainty, and hesitancy. And that doesn’t get me anywhere. Caution doesn’t get me a job. Uncertainty doesn’t get me a scholarship. Hesitancy doesn’t get me anything. The longer I sit or procrastinate or think of what ifs, the longer I’m not moving forwards. I’m tired of not moving forwards. People say “What’s the worst that can happen?” and my mind always supplies a litany of ‘worsts’. So recently, I’ve been trying not to think about ‘what’s the worst that can happen’ and think more along the lines of ‘if I don’t try, nothing will happen. If I do try, something might.’ It’s not an easy mind set to get into. Right now, I’m doing scholarship applications to avoid signing up on sites that have job listings in fear of spam and fraud – but at least I’m doing something. In some way, I’m moving forwards. This attempt at a new mindset pushed me forwards to apply for two major scholarships and a volunteering opportunity. I didn’t get the scholarships, but I got the volunteering opportunity, so I’m moving forwards. It’s better than what I had been doing, for sure. I plan on using this mindset to push myself forwards during my search for a summer job as well – although I think I’m going to stay away from shady websites and go to stores and restaurants and apply like that. It might take a while, but it’s better than doing nothing. I cannot think about trying new things in the terms of failure. Lately, I have realized that I am afraid of failure. Facing new things with failure on the brain will keep me paralyzed and stuck. However, if I think about the fact that not trying new things is a failure, then I find myself pushed forward. This lesson has pushed me forwards in the last half of the semester. I hope I can continue using it to push me through this summer and the years beyond. I think I’ll get started with that summer job.

1. I deserve this scholarship because space travel takes forever. Three years on my ship, and finally I’m on Earth, only to find out I need to pay to learn about these humans. I’ve already spent my money fixing up my UFO, and humans don’t transfer my coin system. I need some human cash to get me through my human education. 2. I’ve come in peace, and for more of my kind to come in peace, I must learn about humans. With the knowledge I gain in this human education system, I will become the figurative bridge between worlds. An interstellar diplomat. An interspecies diplomat. This will come in handy to prevent misunderstandings when we knock on your door. 3. The trip here was the worst flight ever. Your little asteroid belt is hell to navigate. My ship got banged up, and only spit and glue held it together until I managed to land on Mars for a fix up. I’m just lucky that I’m a gosh darned talented pilot, otherwise I might not be gracing your application, and would just be another piece of space junk decorating your atmosphere.

I have, ironically, stayed optimistic by staying busy. My mind likes to grab onto things and examine them, turn every side and stare until things make sense or the possibilities overwhelm me. I overthink, and that includes overthinking about my problems and the problems in the world. If I sit there, stuck, the possibilities will drown me in their threats. The best way to let my mind clear is to do something else. I draw. I write. Sometimes I watch the shows I’ve been putting off. Whatever I do, I make it distracting, so my problems cannot be blown out of proportion. Later, when the distraction is over and my mind has calmed, I will examine whatever stressed me out again. Sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes I have to start all over again. Most of the time, however, I find myself with the strength to push through until the finish line. My optimism lies in calming down. Distract, calm down, then go at it again from another angle. When I calm down, things no longer look so daunting. When I calm, I can find the determination to push through. And so, I push through.

There are many things that a person should love about themself, even if those things are small, or if they are large. There should always be at least one thing. One thing that shines above all your other characteristics that you can’t help but love, even if it’s as silly as a crooked pinky or as serious as making friends easily. And I believe that we do not celebrate these things enough. When I think of self-love, I do not think ‘what do I love about myself’ but ‘what do I do to take care of myself?’ Loving myself means taking care of myself. So when I think about what I love about myself, I think more along the lines of what I love that makes me happy. I love collecting dice. I love writing. I love sea life. I love podcasts. But then, I dig a little deeper, more than just what I love to do and what I love about myself. The answer came to me when I paused in this essay to retape my keys down, because I type too hard and too much, and they’re slowly making an escape from my keyboard. The thing I love about myself is my crazy thought process. The way I make solutions. The way I create plot lines. My mind works in weird ways, and sometimes things go well, and sometimes they go wrong, but I love that process. I love the way I think.

One of the things that makes me me is my writing. I love reading novels. I love creative writing. Playing with worlds and characters and plot lines is just fun to me. However, this love does not mesh well with my major or my job. I want to be a marine biologist. Particularly, I want to study sharks. As one might imagine, the curriculum for this goal is extensive and does not mesh well with my writing habits. However, that does not mean I am giving up on my writing. Last semester, I took Creative Writing Intro as my fifth class. This one, I am setting aside a bit of every day to mess around and write. For thirty minutes in the morning, and for two hours before I head to bed, I indulge in this habit of mine. I will make sure to continue to do so in the future. The Marine Science curriculum will not break me. This creative spark is something that I cannot, will not, give up. No matter what happens, I will write.

We are all made of memories. Every one of us is a patchwork quilt of experiences, with new ones added on and others being discarded as we forget them. This quilt is always shifting, always changing, and can reflect things that happened as early as a week ago. In fact, just a bit more than a week ago, a significant patch in my own quilt was sewn. On the 19th, we had my Pawpaw’s memorial. I had to greet people I barely remembered, or had never seen in my life. I had to listen to strangers and my family speak about him. I spoke about him myself. That memorial and the dinner we had afterwards – friends and family all crowded into one long set of tables, with words and laughter and stories and tears – ingrained into me something important. It showed me just how important connections are. Before, I believed I could walk a life alone. Ever since I hit college, I barely stayed in contact with family and friends, just enough to know what was going on, and even then sometimes my lack of knowledge blew me away. This experience has rectified that. I understand that there are things that we cannot get through alone. The world, our lives, rely on connections. Now I know that I cannot let those connections falter, cannot let them snap like the thread that holds my quilt together. I know that I must hold on, and stay connected, and that is something that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Of all the anime I have watched, the Fate series has been most impactful. This has been done in two ways. To start off, this was my first introduction to the anime genre. One step into the Fate series, the next step into another series, and then I kept on sinking. Fate pulled me into what swiftly became one of my favorite show genres. The other way Fate impacted me is more personal. Fate and its fandom has led me into creating the strongest friendships I have known in a long time. I am an introvert, so I have problems with making friends. Fate opened up this gate for me. The friendships I’ve made through this series are mostly online friends, but that doesn’t matter. I have already been proven that they will stick by my side, and I know should I ever need someone, they will be there.

One thing I do to improve the lives of the elderly in my community is clean. When you get older, it becomes harder to clean up the messes you leave behind. Dusting, mopping, vacuuming, these are all things that must be done to keep up clean living, but become difficult to do when bones and joints start to ache. This is a lesson I learned with my granny and pawpaw. Whenever I went over to their house to help out, one of the first things they would make me do is sweep and mop the floors. In the time of Covid-19, cleaning has become even more important. Every inch of well-used surfaces needs to be scrubbed. Doorknobs, countertops, handles, couches, chairs. These are all items that can easily transmit Covid-19. In houses where people are vulnerable to Covid-19, i.e., the houses with elderly or children, keeping clean is vital. So, while cleaning may seem like a simple task, it is critical. Not only does it take away the burden from the elderly, but it can also increase their chances of staying healthy. The more cleaning is done, the less likely diseases will be transmitted. That is why I believe that cleaning is one of the most important things one can do to improve the lives of the elderly, and it’s the course of action I choose whenever I have the chance to do so.

I stood with my arms crossed, wondering why the hell I was even here. No, that was a lie. I knew why I was here. I was here because I was the only ghost hunter in the business that disproved haunting. People looking to sell loved me. But that didn’t mean I loved them. Case in point, the shop in front of me looked like it needed a ghost hunter less, and a person with common sense more. Once upon a time, this building had been a bakery. At least until the baker disappeared in a raging inferno. Later, an enterprising businessman rebuilt the bakery into a jump rope store. Needless to say, there was a lot of money wasted, and now, he was trying to sell it. Possibly because of the ghost of a flaming baker wandering the aisles. More likely because a jump rope store didn’t get much business. Which led to now. With me, freezing my butt off in front of a little, dilapidated store that still had most of its stocks, key in one hand. Insane. I knew I should have gotten an actual job. Too late now, though. With a sigh, I shoved the key into the lock. Why was it even locked? No one sane would rob a jump rope store. No one sane would build one, either. Growling under my breath, I turned the key. It clicked softly. A moment later, the door swung open with a sigh. I stood in the doorway and checked my equipment. Flashlight, thermometer, EVP recorder all accounted for. Nothing else for it. Time to waste another night staring into the dark. I sucked in a lungful of winter air, then stepped inside the jump rope store. With the key back in my pocket – it would be mortifying to lock myself in – I closed the door. In front of me, nothing but darkness and indistinct shapes. The weight of an unused space hung heavy on my shoulders. A chill ran up my spine. Unconcerned, I flicked on my flashlight, the moment of unease gone. I moved the beam of my flashlight over the walls. The light danced over racks of jump ropes. The counter’s surface flashed like glass when the beam hit it. It lit up the three aisles in the middle of the building, the faint curve of ropes and the plastic glint from handles. Finally, the flashlight landed on the oddest thing in the room. A giant cardboard jump rope with a smiley face on one of the handles. It lay in the middle of the floor, abandoned like this building. I gave one more scan of the scene before flicking the flashlight off. A couple blinks later, my eyes accumulated. I walked over to set the EVP recorder on the counter, flicked it on and checked the temp. The same as the outside. Cold enough to make hell freeze over. I crossed my arms and sighed, watching my breath ghost the darkness. No doubt the only ghost I would see tonight. “Hey, mister ghost? If you’re real, do something. If you’re not, forget it.” Of course, there was no reply. And there wouldn’t be a reply when I checked the recorder later either. So I walked around the store and left the recorder running behind me. I checked the temp sporadically just to be professional, asked random questions out of boredom. The temp stayed stable. The night passed on in stony silence. Of course, it did. What else would have happened? A baker appearing from nowhere, uniform on flambé? What a ridiculous thought.

College Battlefield by stressed2heck 1.) Casualty by Hidden Citizans 2.) Fight Back by NEFEX 3.) Whatever it Takes by Imagine Dragons 4.) Walk Through the Fire by The Everlove 5.) White Flag - Bishop Briggs 6.) Never Say Die - Neoni 7.) Champion - Neoni & Burnboy

1.) I am a woman, which in the male dominated scientific field of shark research, is an obvious challenge. When growing up and watching Discovery Channel’s Shark Week — I grew up nowhere near the ocean — I was struck by the lack of women on screen. Normally, there was only one woman per episode. Sometimes there was none. This realization that the field of elasmobranch study is a male dominated field has carried me through my educational career. It inspires me to work harder on my grades, because I cannot fall behind. If I fall behind, I might not be seen as good enough for my career. This also means I have to be more professional than my peers, because I will be held to a higher standard. This has only made me more determined and prone to noticing any mistakes I make and fixing them. Although it is a challenge, I will not let it stop me. I cannot let it stop me if I want to get my degree and go into the field of shark conservation and research. 2.) One of the barriers that I see in fulfilling my career goals in conservation is the fear that no one will take me seriously because I am a woman. This is something I cannot change, but it is something that will impact the rest of my life, and I will be treated differently because of this. What I must do is live with it. Another barrier that plagues my life currently is money. Getting degrees for majors such as Marine Science is expensive, and I do not come from a wealthy family. I do not have the money to afford all the opportunities that come my way. For example, the Shark Research Winter Term Class was an opportunity that I had recently that I could not take for the cost. The class and the trip that accompanied it cost up to three thousand dollars. This is not money that I simply have lying around, and since my parents are partially covering my college cost, I didn’t want to strain their wallets any more either. This is why I can see my lack of money being a problem in the future, as it will make it difficult to fund expeditions and pay off my student loans. 3.) I knew I wanted to pursue a career in conservation since the first time I watched Discovery Channel’s Shark Week. I was five, and my father had put on the show. I couldn’t help but be fascinated, particularly by the great whites. The same thing happened when I watched Big Cat week on the National Geographic Channel. No matter what the subject was, my attention was caught. I knew that no matter what, I wanted to get a job that dealt with these creatures and the environment. Whether it would be in research or conservation, I didn’t care. I just wanted to work to understand these creatures, to know the best ways to protect them. I decided to follow that path. Since middle school, I’ve been looking into ways that will catapult me into that job. First off, applying to middle college, where I could take college courses at the local community college to replace my high school courses. It was during that time that I decided to narrow down the particulars of what I wanted to do in the future. Instead of working in the Sahara with leopards, I would focus my goals on the oceans and the creatures that call them home. Now, I am a Sophomore working my way towards a degree in Marine Science. 4.) I would like to pursue nature restoration through the major of Marine Biology because I believe that the key to understanding how to keep the world’s ocean’s safe is to understand how they work. Everything in the ocean is interconnected. From the cycles of upwelling and downwelling, from zooplankton to algae to seagrass, it all relies on one another. If something changes, the whole balance is affected. We don’t understand the full effects humanities mistakes have had on the creatures of the oceans, although we can note a few things. Overfishing leads to an increase in jellyfish and squid populations. Global warming melts ice caps and increases water level, while also warming the world’s oceans. It might be a minute temperature, but it’s enough to play a part in coral bleaching. Ocean acidification affects all the creatures that call it home. Whatever happens, the effects ripple out to touch everything else. To be able to restore what harm we have caused to the oceans, we must first understand how all these pieces connect, and what affecting one will do to the others. Marine Biology is the path I have chosen to use to accomplish this.

Summer, and it was nearly time for vacation. Official vacation, not just a break from school, but a break from work as well. My family and I were going to the beach, ready to kick back and relax. My dad and I were going to finally get my brother to boogie board. The dog would be introduced to a body of water larger than a lake. My mom and I would collect shark teeth and shells along early morning or late night walks. We would play games and watch movies as a family. Our troubles would be wiped away by the waves beating upon the sand. It was going to be glorious. We never got the chance to enjoy it. Perhaps some background information might help. My brother and I work at my Granny and Pawpaw’s house for most of the week. The work we do is simple. We clean the house, garden, water the plants, whatever Granny and Pawpaw need us to do that they can’t do themselves. Pawpaw is chair bound with an amputated toe and doctors’ orders to stay off that foot. Granny had a cracked sternum from a fall a couple of weeks prior. Needless to say, we were both worried about leaving them alone for the next week while we enjoyed our vacation. But it would be fine. Our Uncle was currently living with them, and he’d only be gone for his workdays. Besides that, the rest of our family could take days off to look after them in the time our uncle wasn’t there. It would be fine. Then the day before we left, Granny fell and broke her hip. It was a devastating blow. For all of us. We were packing up when my dad got the call, but there wasn’t anything we could do. We’d been planning this trip for months, Granny was in the hospital already, and there were plenty of people in our family that could take care of pawpaw while she went to rehab. So, we left home early Saturday morning, keeping our phones close for news. It would be fine. It had to be fine. Sunday, Pawpaw was hospitalized for COVID-19. They put him on a ventilator. Pawpaw and Granny’s home was a hot spot for our family, everyone would come in to visit, to help out. Both of my uncles had COVID-19. All of my cousins except the one who was at college. My second cousin, three years old, had it too. That three-year-old was the only one in our family who hadn’t had shots. We went home on Tuesday. Luckily, my branch of the family had been spared. We could visit Pawpaw (through a glass window, of course) in the hospital as his situation shakily improved. The rehab center refused to let us see Granny until fourteen days passed since we last saw Pawpaw even though we had all tested negative. This probably isn’t the type of story you all were expecting, but this has been the hardest time in my life to date. We’re still not through it, even though it’s been a month and a half, but slowly and surely, we’re pushing on. It’s been hard, but we’ve been stubborn. Conditions have improved. Recently, she and Pawpaw got moved into a room together at the rehab center. So despite it all, we’ve managed to pull through, by supporting one another even if we couldn’t be there in person. This support is a lesson I will definitely not be forgetting any time soon.

Before the pandemic struck, I was a high school senior attending middle college. My last months of school were taught online, and my graduation was done one by one with masks on. I graduated during the pandemic with my high school diploma and a bachelor's degree in science, and started Eckerd college while the virus was in full swing. I will not lie, the pandemic made this a hard change, but in many ways, it helped as well. I have trouble with crowds and meeting new people. The pandemic made it easier. Class sizes were decreased, so I could actually get to know the surrounding people. Not only this, but my online presence increased dramatically as well. Because of the pandemic, I have met people I would have never met otherwise. People spanning cultures that are all connected by the things they enjoy. Thanks to the pandemic, my limited world views have opened up significantly. No longer am I the narrow-minded high school student I was before the pandemic. Now, my perspectives have broadened, and I can move forwards while actually being connected with the world.

A shot in the night, the sound splitting the air. Something large falls, blood leaking from a hole in his hide. A rhino, a member of a dwindling species, whose body will now be ransacked for parts to sell on the black market. He is not the only one to fall, nor is his species the only one targeted. Elephants for their tusks. Tigers for their bones and skin. The world is rife with species in danger, and it is up to us to turn back the tide. The big question, one that many people are asking, is why is it their concern? Who cares if another rhino falls dead to the ground, his horn sawed of at the base, his blood soaking into the earth? If it doesn’t affect them, why should they care? The simple fact is that it does affect them, it affects everyone. The many ecosystems around the world are interconnected with the species calling them home. Coral reefs cannot survive without the predators that eat the Crown of Thorns Starfish. Oceans empty of fish are filling up with jellyfish instead. Tropical rainforests are cut down, the creatures calling them home left without shelter. The world’s recourses and biodiversity depend on the plant’s and animals that live on its surface. At this time, there is no other planet we can call home, we are stuck on the one beneath our feet. The one we have been treating badly, and soon enough the effects will began to show. They have already begun to show. Which means it is up to us to stop it. In the past, there have been strategies that helped endangered species. Protected areas and wildlife preserves are a good example of this. Here, endangered species have a place to live free of human interference, somewhere to repopulate and recuperate from the dangers of interacting with the human world. Another strategy that has been successful is the reintroduction of species to areas they once frequented. A good example of this would be the reintroduction of wolves at Yellowstone National Park. Before, they had been a dwindling species in that area, hunted almost to extinction. Because of this, moose populations increased, and they began to feast on the plants that lined riverbanks. Once those plants were removed, loose sediment was washed away, increasing the turbidity of the water. This negatively affected populations of marine creatures, and contaminated water supplies. Reintroducing the wolf decreased moose populations, which allowed the plants to grow back and shore up the riverbanks once more. These two ways are not the only ways to positively impact endangered species. Individually, we can raise awareness, and petition those in power to do something about this. Even if it is as simple as spreading the knowledge of what is going on and the consequences that will result from our actions, a change will happen. More people will begin to support the cause, and as one person becomes two, and then two becomes three, we will no longer be individuals but a community. As a community our voices are more likely too be heard. Community’s hold more sway over governments, and a group of people doing the right thing will inspire others to follow in their footsteps. Rules can be implemented, solutions found as more minds gather to tackle this problem. Which finally leaves us with countries. Countries are the ones who have the power to set aside plots of land for endangered species. Their governments are what determine their priorities and negotiate with other countries. Where individuals and communities are the ones who can spark ideas, countries are the ones that put those ideas into action. Whether this means setting aside land or starting rehabilitation projects or even spreading the news in schools or across the nation. When one country begins to treat this as a serious issue, others begin to see it as a serious issue as well, and the word will be spread, and action will be taken. In this way, our world can change for the better. Individuals to communities to countries, all linked in an agreement to stop the fall of endangered species. This way, there will be less rhinos shot in the dark, less elephants hunted for their ivory and tigers skinned for their pelts. This way, we can heal the world and begin to wipe away some of the damage we have caused.