The door swings open, a crack of light spilling onto my face—but before I can step in, it slams shut, a polite “no” muffled through the wood. Politics is unforgiving; it’s the sharp sting of a handshake turned away, the echo of heels clicking down a corridor that’s already closed its doors on me. It’s the grind of bill drafts crumpled and trashed, the thought of an opportunity that will not call back, the resilience to knock anyway. Brutal? Yes. Worth it? Completely. Today, I’m honored to serve 11 California counties as the vice-president of the California-Association-Of-Student-Councils, and I’m proud to call myself a student legislator with the California-Department-of-Education, an advocate, and an American patriot, above all. I’ve endorsed and helped pass 3 California State Education Bills: Assemblymember Alex Lee’s AB1867, modernizing bathrooms in pre-2012 K-12 schools with new faucet aerators and water-saving fixtures; Senator John Laird’s SB857: LGBTQ+ Pupil Rights, instituting an advisory board for LGBTQ+ student needs; and Senator Cortese’s SB1445, introducing restorative justice measures in expulsion hearings through increased peer-support. If there’s anything I’ve learned in my three-year legislative tenure with the California Senate Education Committee, Assembly Education Committee, and the California Department of Education, legislation has the transformative power to spur positive change, empowering us to give voice to the unheard. This commitment to advocacy isn’t confined to legislative chambers. As the Mock Trial Captain of Sacramento Country Day, I led our team to become two-time Sacramento Champions and achieve 4th place at the California State Finals, earning the 2023 State Quarterfinal MVP and 2024 State Semifinal MVP along the way. Advocacy, I've learned, is more than just being loud; it's about giving justice. Just like I used my voice to humanize my client or deliver justice on both ends of the courtroom, I used my voice to help those in the community—especially those who would otherwise go unheard. The beauty of this work lies in that, even in the smallest of ways, I can make a real difference in someone’s life, and that fuels a hunger in me that words cannot capture. In these past few years, I’ve never felt more fulfilled. I found my purpose: to dedicate my life to giving back to this country, creating a country where America’s future children can smile unapologetically. I want to protect them, and I will. I’ll be on the ballot, and I won’t stop fighting for that dream. That’s what it means to be an American. Being an American isn’t about being a certain race, fitting a certain image, or holding a certain belief. Patriotism transcends any single identity; loving this country is to engage civically, to uplift, to ensure the promise of a better tomorrow. Nothing makes me more proud than to say I am American. At this point in my life, my calling is clear: I aspire to become a US Senator, continuing my work in equity and justice within the American Education system. My work isn't done and won't be anytime soon. Having spent the entirety of my junior year working on restorative justice education policy in California, I hope to build on my experience helping pass California’s SB1445, which introduced peer support into expulsion hearing. I aim to broaden this framework to encompass suspension processes. By advocating for a support system during suspension hearings, I hope to design a framework with resolution-focused resources accessible to students at every stage of disciplinary action, promoting accountability and personal growth over punitive isolation. So, I’ll be back at that door ready to knock once more!

The door swings open, a crack of light spilling onto my face—but before I can step in, it slams shut, a polite “no” muffled through the wood. Politics is unforgiving; it’s the sharp sting of a handshake turned away, the echo of heels clicking down a corridor that’s already closed its doors on me. It’s the grind of bill drafts crumpled and trashed, the thought of an opportunity that will not call back, the resilience to knock anyway. Brutal? Yes. Worth it? Completely. Today, I’m honored to serve 11 California counties as the vice-president of the California-Association-Of-Student-Councils, and I’m proud to call myself a student legislator with the California-Department-of-Education, an advocate, and an American patriot, above all. I’ve endorsed and helped pass 3 California State Education Bills: Assemblymember Alex Lee’s AB1867, modernizing bathrooms in pre-2012 K-12 schools with new faucet aerators and water-saving fixtures; Senator John Laird’s SB857: LGBTQ+ Pupil Rights, instituting an advisory board for LGBTQ+ student needs; and Senator Cortese’s SB1445, introducing restorative justice measures in expulsion hearings through increased peer-support. If there’s anything I’ve learned in my three-year legislative tenure with the California Senate Education Committee, Assembly Education Committee, and the California Department of Education, legislation has the transformative power to spur positive change, empowering us to give voice to the unheard. This commitment to advocacy isn’t confined to legislative chambers. As the Mock Trial Captain of Sacramento Country Day, I led our team to become two-time Sacramento Champions and achieve 4th place at the California State Finals, earning the 2023 State Quarterfinal MVP and 2024 State Semifinal MVP along the way. Advocacy, I've learned, is more than just being loud; it's about giving justice. Just like I used my voice to humanize my client or deliver justice on both ends of the courtroom, I used my voice to help those in the community—especially those who would otherwise go unheard. The beauty of this work lies in that, even in the smallest of ways, I can make a real difference in someone’s life, and that fuels a hunger in me that words cannot capture. In these past few years, I’ve never felt more fulfilled. I found my purpose: to dedicate my life to giving back to this country, creating a country where America’s future children can smile unapologetically. I want to protect them, and I will. I’ll be on the ballot, and I won’t stop fighting for that dream. That’s what it means to be an American. Being an American isn’t about being a certain race, fitting a certain image, or holding a certain belief. Patriotism transcends any single identity; loving this country is to engage civically, to uplift, to ensure the promise of a better tomorrow. Nothing makes me more proud than to say I am American. At this point in my life, my calling is clear: I aspire to become a US Senator, continuing my work in equity and justice within the American Education system.

Smiles were my greatest source of insecurity as a child. With crooked teeth and weak cheek muscles, I often hid my smile. I was late to braces, but orthodontics didn’t help me rediscover my smile; piano did. I found joy in those 88 notes, expressing myself freely without fear of judgment. Just as Chopin turned me into a hopeless romantic and Mozart taught me carefree bliss, piano allowed me to smile unapologetically. Today, I’m proud to reflect on some of the most meaningful milestones of my musical career. At age 14, I performed at Carnegie Hall after winning 1st in the Crescendo International Competition, respectively. I also debuted with the Czech Opera Symphony Orchestra in Perugia, Italy, a dream realized through my selection as a winner at Music Fest Perugia where I took masterclasses with USC Thornton School of Music Professor Myongjoolee, Steinway Artist Alexandre Moutouzkine, Tokyo University Professor Tanaka, and soloist and exclusive Steinway Artist Gerardo Tessionare. Most recently, I'm proud to have won 4th in Norcal Piano Solo. Yet I never once chased accolades; in every piece I played, I chased the intent of each composer, discovering a human, emotional meaning in the piece and in myself. My latest project is Rachmaninoff’s Love’s Sorrow—a complete antithesis. Absurd, right? How can love be sorrowful? How can sorrow be love? Whenever I play the piano, I see pictures; I feel. I am transported to a dusty, postwar European ballroom—once alive with the laughter of dancers, the glimmer of chandeliers, and the jubilant melody of a waltz. Now, it lies abandoned, a shell of its former glory. I envision a man stepping hesitantly into this forgotten space, his polished shoes disturbing the silence with faint echoes. He pauses, gazing at the emptiness, as if hoping to glimpse the ghostly swirl of dancers long gone. The music swells, and for a fleeting moment, he feels their presence—a bittersweet reminder of a dream forever out of reach. It was Rachmaninoff who taught me how sorrow and love can intertwine. His music feels like a bridge between those two emotions, a way of remembering that even in our deepest sadness, there is beauty. When I lost my beloved cat, I finally understood what his notes meant—never forget our shared memories and the love in our sorrows. Piano lets me feel—cry, smile, release; piano lets me live. Those 88 mechanical keys, my most trusted confidantes, mean everything to me. Piano shades color to my life.

Smiles were my greatest source of insecurity as a child. With crooked teeth, poor alignment, and muscle weakness in my cheeks, I found myself hiding my smile. For me, piano helped me rediscover my smile again. I found joy within those 88 notes as I expressed myself freely without a fear of judgment. Just like how Chopin turned me into a hopeless romantic or how Rachmaninoff taught me sorrow; piano allowed me to smile in an unreserved, unapologetic way. I wanted to use music as a means to help others smile. That’s why I founded Pacific-Institute-of-Music Student-Music-Advocacy-Group (SMAG), a 501(c)3 student-led nonprofit in 2023, rallying 34 students across Folsom County to channel our collective love for music into creating positive change within our communities by hosting fundraising concerts to contribute to charitable initiatives. Building this nonprofit from the ground up wasn’t an easy task. I’ve learned from my experiences that success as a leader requires sheer grit and tenacity. Working on a tight budget, I didn’t have the luxury to hire an attorney to kickstart the nonprofit. I’ve failed again and again—filing the wrong documents, receiving warnings from the IRS, losing important files—but I managed. Leadership requires a willingness to learn and sacrifice. It is in the meticulous planning, the continuous bargaining over prices on the phone with venues, and the late nights working on paperwork. I’ve also learned being a good leader is more than a title. Rather, it is about being an attentive listener, a good role model, and at heart, a fighter who carries the collective dreams of others. Leadership is in the collaboration, trust, and the shared sense of pride with every difference we make. Today, PIOM SMAG has donated approximately $8,500 to various efforts through our fundraising concerts; gifted presents for children spending their Christmas in Sutter hospitals; spread music into the halls of assisted living centers; provided free tutoring for the public; and, most importantly, brought a smile through music to those who needed it most. I hope to continue my work in giving back to the communities so close to my heart. Although I'm not certain where I'll go to college, the one thing I'm certain about is furthering my impact with the non-profit I founded to the city and community I will be in. This scholarship would allow me to pursue my education while expanding the reach of my nonprofit, bringing meaningful change to the city and community I will call home.

I’ve always wanted to be a scientist. I was that kid who religiously watched Bill Nye the Science Guy and eagerly reread my favorite book, Biology for Every Kid, at every opportunity. Instead of playing with legos, I built dens for cockroaches out of pebbles and leaves; instead of letting Beyblades rip, I set up gladiator-esque arenas for grasshoppers to fight; and instead of coloring, I placed ants on pieces of paper and used markers to draw lines around them, creating an a-maze-ing ant maze. Though ants aren’t bound by lines, scientifically speaking, the marker disrupts their pheromone trails, making them avoid the lines as if they were walls. As a kid who barely knew what cells were, the fancy “pheromone” term was absolutely mind-boggling. And so it was no surprise that during my preschool graduation, I proudly announced, “I’m going to be a scientist!” I guess you could say biology was like a pheromone, secreting a chemical that attracted my lifelong love. Years later, in an coincidental twist of fate, my research concentration at Sacramento State lab is all about studying fruit-fly pheromones. Working under Professor Johannes Bauer, I studied how the Cyp6a20 gene influences pheromone breakdown in fruit flies, focusing on its role in controlling aggressive behaviors through the degradation of cVA, a male-specific pheromone. In other words, are these little suckers born feisty, or did they just have a bad day? Months of experiments revealed that Cyp6a20's breakdown of cVA can indeed reduce aggression—flies with higher Cyp6a20 expression were less aggressive, suggesting genetic factors can affect how “feisty” or “mellow” a fly can be. However, my personal takeaway was not so scientific. The hundreds of hours hunched over a stereomicroscope sorting flies, cooking fried-chicken-odored food, and analyzing fly behavior on a petri dish, made me realize research is no different than my backyard shenanigans. Sure it’s more complicated, sure there’s more big terms and technicalities, but the passion for discovery is no different. To me, there’s no greater thrill than discovery. Biology inspires me to never abandon my childhood curiosity; it encourages me to keep finding.

Bathrooms have always been my personal nemesis—ever since 8th grade. As a middle school student attending math classes at a nearby high school, I sought “social refuge” in the bathrooms. Ironically, what should have been my “safe space” away from an unfamiliar world was anything but. The odor of rust, clogged toilets, and broken fixtures were constant reminders of discomfort. Soon, I developed a habit of walking a quarter mile to the next bathroom. When I didn't have enough time, I’d pinch my nose and face my nemesis—the bathroom adjacent to Ms. Tippet’s. These experiences fueled my eventual work in advocating for bathroom improvements throughout the state of California. During the summer after my freshman year, I worked with Assemblymember Alex Lee, giving testimonies in Senate Education Hearings to support and pass AB1867, a bill addressing long-standing issues of neglect in school bathrooms. Eventually, AB1867 passed in September 2022, ensuring that older K-12 facilities, built before 2012, throughout the state are equipped with new faucet aerators and water-conserving plumbing fixtures. Two years later, returning to that same bathroom where my journey began, I saw the once unclean, inefficient bathrooms I used were now highly functional. I had changed the experiences of students across the state in some way, however small. Perhaps, I saved a student 25 minutes walking to another bathroom or spared them from viewing bathrooms as their nemesis. That was the first taste of creating tangible differences through my work. Since then, I’ve continued my work in bathroom improvement, speaking in support of Senator Newman’s SB760: all-gender restrooms, creating inclusive and safe spaces for all high schoolers in public and charter schools by July 1, 2025. Beyond bathrooms, I was also involved in passing two state bills: Senator Laird’s SB857: LGBTQ+ Pupil Needs in April 2023 and Senator Cortese’s SB1445: Restorative Justice Expulsion Recommendations in April-June 2024. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my three-year legislative tenure, politics can be unforgiving. It’s the sharp sting of a handshake turned away, the echo of heels clicking down a corridor that’s already closed its doors on me. It’s the grind of bill drafts crumpled and trashed, the thought of an opportunity that will not call back, the resilience to knock anyway. Brutal? Yes. Worth it? Completely. I've learned to let discomfort drive my determination. I'll knock on the doors that close, again and again, until they swing open. Even in those moments of failure the feeling of knowing that my work has the potential to positively impact others keeps me knocking. At this point in my life, my calling is clear: I aspire to become a US Senator to continue my work advocating for justice and equity in education policy