What do you want to be when you grow up? Most five year olds would tell you that they wanted to be a popstar or a police officer. I, on the other hand, would proudly proclaim that I wanted to be an entrepreneur. My answer was always overlooked with my classmates not knowing what an entrepreneur was and my teachers not knowing how to spell the word. When I was six, I had a lemonade stand. My dad made me pay for all my ingredients to teach me about the cost of goods and pricing. On my seventh birthday, I got my dream present: Matel stock. Yes, I was a first grader begging my parents to buy me a stock. When I was eight, I started making business plans during free time in class. When I was nine, I ran the sales of a shirt to raise money for a mission trip one of my teachers was putting on. By the time I was ten I started being told to be realistic. The statistic of less than thirty percent of entrepreneurs succeeding became an expected response when talking about my future. I still held onto my dream. As enticing as being your own boss is, my true love for entrepreneurship comes from a desire to help others. From competing in pageants I’ve learned that you can make a difference and still make money. Sydni Dion paved the way for women of all skin tones in the shoe industry. Presley Pedigo teaches kids the importance of being community minded. Amanda Moreno trains women to be confident in who they are. All of these women have been incredibly successful financially while being even more successful at creating a difference. When it came time to create my pageant platform, Build Safer Sport, a nonprofit organization with the goal of ending emotional abuse in sports and shining a light on the often overlooked mental health of athletes, was launched in May of 2023. I went on to receive sixth overall and the academic achievement award at my very first pageant. I found people who supported me and believed in me. I made lifelong friends. I rebuilt my confidence. After initial success, I competed again in October for the organization USA National Miss. A weekend of hard work and competition led to being crowned the Miss Badger State Teen 2024. My leadership, persistence, and optimism took this small nonprofit platform to reach over four hundred athletes and built partnerships with local coach training organizations. Now, Build Safer Sports has become a statewide organization and is ready to go nationwide as I fight to create a new national training site for coaches. Being an entrepreneur isn’t easy, but I’m ready to tackle that challenge as I continue to enhance my nonprofit. Sixty eight percent of entrepreneurs fail, but that won’t be me because I’m ready to take my business ideas to the next level. No one can stop me.

Playing volleyball for eight years—and tennis for one—taught me how to navigate a world where women and girls are often expected to stay quiet, follow orders, and never push back. Through long practices, tough matches, and the constant pressure to succeed both on and off the court, I discovered that strength isn’t just about athletic ability. It’s about knowing your worth, standing your ground, and using your voice—even when it feels like no one wants to hear it. Volleyball was my second home for most of my life. It taught me how to lead from within a team: how to communicate clearly under pressure, how to build trust, and how to lift others up when they’re struggling. It also taught me how to balance a demanding schedule. I spent many nights finishing homework after late practices and waking up early for school after weekend tournaments. I learned discipline, resilience, and time management—skills that I carry with me into every part of my life. When I played tennis for a year, the individual focus challenged me in a new way. Without teammates by my side, I had to rely entirely on myself—to motivate, problem-solve, and handle pressure alone. That experience helped me grow even more confident and independent. But beneath the surface of sports, I also experienced and witnessed the darker side of athletic culture. I saw emotional abuse disguised as “tough coaching”—girls being screamed at, humiliated, pushed past injuries, or made to feel like they were never enough. I watched athletes get benched for speaking up or asking for help, while those who stayed silent were rewarded. Too often, male coaches or administrators held the most power, while female athletes were expected to follow orders without question. That imbalance didn’t just affect performance—it hurt people. Those experiences led me to create Build Safer Sports, a platform focused on athlete mental health and ending emotional abuse in youth sports. What started as a personal advocacy project has grown into a movement. I’ve spoken at schools, shared resources on social media, and collaborated with student-athletes to raise awareness about the emotional toll of toxic coaching. I’m currently developing a peer-led support group model where athletes can speak openly about their experiences in a safe, judgment-free space. I’m also working on a coach education initiative that prioritizes mental wellness and positive leadership—because the way we coach matters just as much as the skills we teach. My goal is to turn Build Safer Sports into a national nonprofit that creates real, systemic change. I want to build a future where athletes are protected, not pressured; where mental health is taken seriously; and where girls are empowered to lead and speak up. Being in sports taught me how to push myself, how to be disciplined, and how to work hard. But it also taught me what needs to change. Now, I’m using everything I’ve learned—not just to succeed for myself, but to make sure the next generation of girls can thrive safely and powerfully in any sport they choose.

A crown. A sparkling piece of plastic. As the glittering stones were placed upon my head, I could only wonder how I stood on that stage. How I survived. How I thrived. Three years ago this day would have been unimaginable. My fourteens volleyball season was my first encounter with emotional abuse. I was told I was stupid and that I should have never been put on that team. In my high school season the insults continued. I was told I was too fat and that I wasn’t good enough by a coach who wasn’t even mine. During my fifteens season I cracked. I couldn’t make it through practice. I would make myself sick to get out of playing. I was broken. I was told that I was worthless and that I would never be anything. For months I sat in silence. Embarrassed. Voiceless. Alone. Until I got a letter suggesting I do a pageant. Of course I wanted to do it, but I needed a platform. Pick something that impacted you, they told me. Only one thing came to mind: Emotional abuse in sports. Build Safer Sport, a nonprofit with the goal of ending emotional abuse in sports and shining a light on the mental health of athletes, was launched in May of 2023. For the first time since leaving volleyball, I felt like I had a purpose. August went by receiving sixth overall and the academic award at my first pageant. I found people who supported me. I made lifelong friends. I rebuilt my confidence. After initial success, I competed again in October for USA National Miss which led to being crowned the Miss Badger State Teen. So there I was. Soaking in the spotlight with a crown on my head. Build Safer Sports has become a statewide organization and is going nationwide as I fight to create a new national training site for coaches. I’ve helped over 700 athletes thrive after emotional abuse and I’m not done yet. From throwing the first pitch at a Milwaukee Brewers game to becoming a published poet, I’ve taken creative measures to help youth athletes. I’ve saved lives. I’ve spoken out. I’ve found myself again. Now, I have that sparkly piece of plastic. I have a crown. But, more importantly, I’m finally the strong, confident woman I was meant to be.

One of the most meaningful experiences I’ve had in my community was participating in the annual Hope Walk, an event dedicated to raising awareness and funds for mental health in honor of Logan, a classmate we lost to suicide. Held every spring, the Hope Walk brings together students, families, teachers, and community members for one powerful purpose: to remember, to heal, and to advocate for change. Logan was more than just a name on a banner or a face in a photo. He was kind, funny, and full of potential. His passing shook our school to its core and made many of us realize just how deeply people can struggle without showing it. The Hope Walk began as a way to honor his memory, but it quickly became something bigger—a way for all of us to come together, open up conversations about mental health, and support those who are still silently battling. Walking side by side with hundreds of others, many of whom wore shirts with Logan’s name or the names of other loved ones lost to suicide, was emotional and empowering. There were stations throughout the walk where people could write messages on ribbons, tie them to trees, or share their stories on a memory wall. At one point, we all stopped for a moment of silence, holding hands. The air was heavy with both grief and hope. In that moment, I felt the power of community—not just to mourn, but to move forward. What made the event especially meaningful for me was how it turned something painful into something purposeful. It showed me that awareness can be action. The funds raised go directly to local mental health programs, school counseling services, and suicide prevention training. Even more importantly, the walk helped reduce the stigma around mental illness in our community. People who had never spoken openly about their struggles before started to share. That openness has started to shift our school culture into one that’s more supportive and understanding. Still, I believe there’s more we can do. As a result of the Hope Walk, I hope to see our community continue building resources for mental health—especially for teens. I’d like to see more peer-led support groups in schools, access to mental health professionals without long waitlists, and more education on emotional well-being starting at younger ages. I also want to see conversations about mental health become as normal as conversations about physical health. No one should feel ashamed or afraid to ask for help. The Hope Walk reminded me that healing is a process, and that process is easier when we walk it together. It taught me the importance of turning loss into action, and how even a single event can create a ripple of awareness, support, and hope. Each step we took was a promise—not just to remember Logan, but to do better for everyone still here.

Creativity has always been more than a hobby for me—it’s how I connect with people, solve problems, and envision a better future. As a senior from Pewaukee, Wisconsin, attending Pewaukee High School, I’ve often looked for ways to bring originality into the spaces I care about most: athletics, mental health advocacy, and fashion. My creativity has shaped my beliefs about leadership and impact, strengthened my relationships through empathy and expression, and inspired bold career aspirations rooted in purpose. One of the most defining ways I’ve channeled my creativity is through my platform, Build Safer Sports. As a former competitive athlete, I experienced and witnessed emotional abuse in sports—something that’s often overlooked in conversations about athlete well-being. Instead of staying silent, I turned my pain into purpose by designing a campaign to raise awareness and offer support for athletes who feel unheard or unsafe. I created infographics, wrote speeches, and produced video content that blended storytelling with education. I found that creative communication wasn’t just powerful—it was necessary. People listened more when emotion met originality. This experience also changed the way I approach relationships. I’ve learned to value vulnerability and authenticity, two traits that thrive in creative spaces. Whether I’m helping a bride find her perfect gown in my job as a bridal stylist or supporting a teammate through a tough moment, I try to listen with imagination—asking, “How can I make this experience meaningful for them?” That question has led to deeper friendships and a stronger sense of who I want to be: someone who brings light and innovation to every room I enter. Creativity has also shaped my career aspirations. This fall, I will attend the University of Michigan, where I plan to study entrepreneurship. My ultimate goal is to start a mission-driven brand that empowers young women through storytelling and social change. Whether that’s through multimedia content, fashion design, or public speaking, I want to combine beauty, advocacy, and innovation to inspire resilience. My high school, while supportive in many ways, could benefit from more creativity in the classroom. So often, learning was based on memorization and repetition rather than imagination and exploration. When we were given projects that allowed for self-expression—like the opportunity to write in any form or work with real businesses of our choice—engagement soared. I believe students need more opportunities to create, not just consume. Innovation should be built into the curriculum, not treated as an extracurricular. As someone who’s seen the power of creativity to transform silence into advocacy, isolation into community, and ideas into impact, I am committed to using my talents to spark change. I want to build platforms that give others a voice, design spaces that feel safe and inspiring, and lead with both heart and originality. The world needs more than solutions—it needs soul. And I believe creativity is how we bring that to life.

Mental health isn’t something I always thought about—until I had no choice but to face it. For years, I was the athlete who smiled through everything, who worked hard and stayed quiet. But behind that smile was someone who was hurting deeply. My experience with mental health—both my own and that of the people around me—has completely reshaped the way I view my goals, my relationships, and the world. It taught me that strength looks different than I thought, that healing requires honesty, and that one voice can start a ripple effect of change. Growing up in competitive sports, I was taught to “push through the pain,” both physical and emotional. Coaches often used shame and criticism as motivational tools, and I didn’t question it—I just assumed that’s what it took to be good. But by my sophomore year of high school, I began to feel the cost of that mindset. I was constantly anxious, emotionally numb, and exhausted from trying to be perfect. I didn’t have the words for what I was feeling at the time, but I now know I was experiencing burnout and emotional trauma. My love for the sport had been buried under fear and pressure. It wasn’t until I opened up to a trusted adult that things began to shift. She listened without judgment and helped me realize that what I was going through wasn’t “just part of being an athlete.” It was something I deserved support for. That single conversation gave me permission to start healing—and it gave me a mission. I realized how many athletes around me were suffering silently, just like I had, and I knew I wanted to be someone who could help change that. Since then, mental health has become not only a personal priority, but a foundation for my future. I launched a platform called Build Safer Sports, dedicated to ending emotional abuse in athletics and shining a light on the mental health of athletes. I’ve organized awareness campaigns, created social media content to educate teens, and shared my story with peers, coaches, and even younger athletes. Every time someone tells me, “I thought I was the only one,” I’m reminded why this work matters. My experiences have also transformed the way I approach relationships. I’ve learned to value people who create safe spaces, who listen without trying to “fix” things, and who understand that vulnerability is a strength. I’ve become more intentional about setting boundaries, not only to protect my own well-being but to model what respect and self-worth should look like. I’ve also become more compassionate—not just toward others, but toward myself. I used to define my value by my achievements; now I define it by my character, my empathy, and my willingness to grow. Perhaps most of all, mental health has changed how I understand the world. I see now how systems—whether in sports, school, or society—often overlook emotional safety in the name of success. I’ve seen how stigma keeps people quiet, and how silence only fuels shame. But I’ve also seen the incredible power of conversation. One honest story, one brave question, one moment of support—it can change everything. Looking ahead, I plan to study entrepreneurship at the University of Michigan with the goal of becoming a nonprofit owner specializing in athlete mental health. I want to create accessible mental health resources, influence coaching education, and design programs that prioritize emotional well-being in athletic spaces. I don’t just want to treat symptoms—I want to help build a culture that prevents harm in the first place. My experience with mental health didn’t break me. It broke open a new path—one filled with purpose, connection, and hope. And I’ll keep walking that path, not just for myself, but for every young person who’s ever believed their pain didn’t matter. It does. They do. And I’m here to make sure they know that.

My name is Halley, and I’m a senior from Pewaukee, Wisconsin, preparing to attend the University of Michigan this fall. I’ve spent the last few years balancing academics, athletics, and a part-time job as a bridal stylist. While these roles may seem unrelated, each has helped shape who I am: someone who is deeply committed to building confidence in others, especially in young athletes. This scholarship would significantly impact my ability to pursue higher education while working toward my dream of becoming a nonprofit owner, focused on mental health in sports. My long-term goal is to create a nationwide support and therapy system for athletes facing emotional abuse and mental health challenges. I plan to expand my platform, Build Safer Sports, into a national nonprofit that educates coaches, athletes, and parents on healthy communication, emotional safety, and mental resilience. This scholarship would allow me to afford the educational foundation I need to bring that vision to life, without being burdened by overwhelming debt. My passion for athlete mental health stems from my own experiences. I grew up in competitive sports, where emotional intensity often crossed the line into verbal abuse. For years, I accepted the culture that told me to “tough it out” and “just focus on winning.” But that pressure eventually caught up with me. During my sophomore year, I experienced a period of intense emotional exhaustion that made me question everything—my worth, my strength, and even whether I deserved to play at all. I remember one particular week after a competition where nothing I did seemed good enough. My coach’s harsh words echoed long after practice: “You’ll never make it with that attitude.” I couldn’t sleep, lost my appetite, and felt a constant weight on my chest. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I was experiencing burnout and emotional harm—something many athletes silently go through. What helped me overcome that low point was speaking up. I confided in a trusted teacher, who helped me name what I was feeling and encouraged me to seek support. I began journaling, attending therapy, and setting boundaries with the adults in my sport. That moment of vulnerability turned into a turning point. It didn’t just help me heal—it gave me a mission. Since then, I’ve used my voice to speak out about the unspoken mental health struggles athletes face. I created Build Safer Sports to educate others, speak at local events, and provide online resources for teens experiencing similar challenges. I’ve also used my platform as a student leader and stylist to connect with peers and clients alike, encouraging confidence and empathy in every interaction. Receiving this scholarship would not only help fund my education but also serve as a powerful affirmation that advocacy work like mine matters. It would allow me to focus on my dual path of academic excellence and community impact, without sacrificing one for the other. I am determined to become an entrepreneur who listens, understands, and creates safer spaces—for athletes, students, and anyone who’s ever been told to stay silent. Thank you for considering my application. This scholarship would not only help me afford college; it would help me change the culture of sports for the better.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Most five year olds would tell you that they wanted to be a popstar or a police officer. I, on the other hand, would proudly proclaim that I wanted to be an entrepreneur. My answer was always overlooked with my classmates not knowing what an entrepreneur was and my teachers not knowing how to spell the word. When I was six, I had a lemonade stand. My dad made me pay for all my ingredients to teach me about the cost of goods and pricing. On my seventh birthday, I got my dream present: Matel stock. Yes, I was a first grader begging my parents to buy me a stock. When I was eight, I started making business plans during free time in class. When I was nine, I ran the sales of a shirt to raise money for a mission trip one of my teachers was putting on. By the time I was ten I started being told to be realistic. The statistic of less than thirty percent of entrepreneurs succeeding became an expected response when talking about my future. I still held onto my dream. As enticing as being your own boss is, my true love for entrepreneurship comes from a desire to help others. From competing in pageants I’ve learned that you can make a difference and still make money. Sydni Dion paved the way for women of all skin tones in the shoe industry. Presley Pedigo teaches kids the importance of being community minded. Amanda Moreno trains women to be confident in who they are. All of these women have been incredibly successful financially while being even more successful at creating a difference. Unfortunately, with the cost of top schools, such as Iowa State or the University of Michigan, starting my business right after college seems improbable if not impossible. Each and every penny I receive in scholarships puts me a little closer to starting my business straight out of school. Any entrepreneur will tell you that it takes time to get started, so the more time you have the better. Starting my business at twenty two versus thirty could make all the difference. In a constantly changing world where entrepreneurs must keep up to succeed, an idea could be completely irrelevant only a couple years later. Therefore, time is what I need. The time that it takes to build, create, and reach success. A scholarship would give me time.

Each year I take a trip with my aunt. Each year to a different place. Each year with new surprises. And while each year is different, each and every year we volunteer. We get the opportunity to experience a new organization every year. From Feed My Starving Children to Give Kids the World, these community service trips with my aunt have shaped the person I am today and continue to help me grow as a person. When most people think of pageant queens, all they think of is pretty crowns and world peace. While that’s great and all, as a queen myself the majority of my time is spent in community service. Using my own platform, Build Safer Sports, I’ve worked to end emotional abuse in sports and shine a light on the overlooked mental health of athletes. This has also resulted in many volunteer opportunities for me. I’ve been a volunteer coach for a volleyball team. I’ve helped at mental health workshops. I’ve assisted with sports events. Outside of my work in sports, I love volunteering in ways to help children. I work with Sunbeam Kids, an organization that teaches young kids the importance of volunteering. I spent a week at Give Kids the World, a village housing Make A Wish kids in Central Florida. I volunteered at Christmas events at my local elementary school. Each of these opportunities hold a special place in my heart. They each represent something I care about and how I can impact a life. Throughout my work volunteering, I never quite knew why I did it. I would see people talk about the work they did on Facebook. I would hear people say that it’s the right thing to do. I would listen to people wishing they could do more. Yet, I didn’t understand why it meant so much to me. That was until 2019 when I volunteered at Give Kids the World. As I worked at the ice cream stand, I made friends with one younger girl, about five or six, who loved strawberry ice cream. So, on my last day there, I decided to say goodbye. Until that day, I had no clue why she was there, as we weren’t supposed to talk about it with the families. That day she told me her story. She told me how she was diagnosed with Leukemia. She told me how she didn’t have many days left to live. She told me how I made a difference in her life. How she finally felt normal and she finally had a friend. It was that moment I realized why I spent my time volunteering. It doesn’t matter what I did or how I did it. It didn’t even matter how often I volunteered. The opportunity to make an impact on just one life is the opportunity of a lifetime. I will never forget the feeling of knowing that I impacted this young girl, but more importantly I will never forget the look in her eyes when she told me I was her first friend. Nothing can top that. So while community service can be time consuming, laboring, and even stressful at points, the result is worth the work. If each person made an impact on one other through volunteer work, our world would be a much better place, and the people you help teach you how to be a better person. That’s the value of community service. All it takes is one moment of generosity. One moment of your time. One moment of kindness. One moment to change a life.

Throughout my life, I’ve found that songs can mean more than words. We can connect to these stories unfolded by melodies and chords. The evolution of my mental health, and more importantly my recovery, can be summed up by the lyric, “... that voice inside is who you are,” by Grandma Tala in Moana. I would have never thought that a Disney movie would mean so much to me; however, this one unadorned line defines the person I am today. My freshman high school volleyball season was my first encounter with emotional abuse. I was told I was stupid and that I should have never been put on that team. When I told my parents, unaware and uninformed of the signs of emotional abuse, they told me my coach just wanted to push me to be my best. So I ignored the insults, and the anxiety built. The insults continued. I was told I was fat and that I wasn’t good enough by a coach who wasn’t even mine. I told my parents, and they told me to hold my head up high and prove him wrong. So I worked harder, and the anxiety built. I cracked. I would make myself sick to get out of playing. I was told that I was worthless and that I would never be anything. My parents were wrong. All those words to “make me better” had torn away my confidence instead. For months I sat in silence. Embarrassed. Voiceless. Alone. I suffered from anxiety and depression. My perfectionist self tried to hide it, but that only made my mental state worse. I thought those words were all I would ever be. Stupid. Useless. Unworthy. So I looked to music. I found lyrics that related to my feelings. I found melodies that would make the pain go away. I found rhythms that lit a fire beneath me. Soon I realized that I couldn’t sit in silence while another athlete struggled. In May of 2023, Build Safer Sport launched with the goal of ending emotional abuse in sports and shining a light on the overlooked mental health of athletes. For the first time since leaving volleyball, I felt like I had a purpose. I started competing in pageants to find new confidence. I rebuilt myself upon that stage. Not only did this experience help me heal, it also helped with school. During my years of therapy I started to become introverted. I lost friends. I lacked motivation. With growing my confidence through pageantry I put a microscope on my mental health and spent all my time focusing on healing. I expanded my platform. In the first five months of starting Build Safer Sports, I reached over three hundred athletes. Now, my platform has become a statewide organization. I won’t stop fighting until mental health inflicted by coaches is eliminated. I see this as a career. Hopefully one that doesn’t last long, as the sooner I achieve my goal the better, but one I’m excited to pursue. My coach's words meant nothing. I’m not stupid, useless, or unworthy. I’ve shown my state that I’m a fighter, dreamer, and survivor through the efforts I took to not only help myself heal, but to help others and end this ongoing issue. His words meant nothing, all that mattered is who the voice instead wanted me to be. Although I faced mental health challenges, I’m as strong as I’ve ever been because of it. I’m ready to continue using music to explore who I really am and using my platform to help athletes across the country.

Throughout my life, I’ve found that songs can mean more than words. We can connect to these stories unfolded by melodies and chords. The evolution of my mental health, and more importantly my recovery, can be summed up by the lyric, “... that voice inside is who you are,” by Grandma Tala in Moana. I would have never thought that a Disney movie would mean so much to me; however, this one unadorned line defines the person I am today. My fourteens club volleyball season was my first encounter with emotional abuse. I was told I was stupid and that I should have never been put on that team. When I told my parents, unaware and uninformed of the signs of emotional abuse, they told me my coach just wanted to push me to be my best. So I ignored the insults, and the anxiety built. In my first high school season, the insults continued. I was told I was fat and that I wasn’t good enough by a coach who wasn’t even mine. I told my parents, and they told me to hold my head up high and prove him wrong. So I worked harder, and the anxiety built. During my fifteens club season, I cracked. I would make myself sick to get out of playing. I was told that I was worthless and that I would never be anything. My parents were wrong. All those words to “make me better” had torn away my confidence instead. For months I sat in silence. Embarrassed. Voiceless. Alone. I suffered from anxiety and depression. My perfectionist self tried to hide it, but that only made my mental state worse. I thought those words were all I would ever be. Stupid. Useless. Unworthy. So I looked to music. I found lyrics that related to my feelings. I found melodies that would make the pain go away. I found rhythms that lit a fire beneath me. Soon I realized that I couldn’t sit in silence while another athlete struggled. In May of 2023, Build Safer Sport launched with the goal of ending emotional abuse in sports and shining a light on the overlooked mental health of athletes. For the first time since leaving volleyball, I felt like I had a purpose. I started competing in pageants to find new confidence. I rebuilt myself upon that stage. Never could I have guessed that community service, dresses, and spotlights could be used to cope. I expanded my platform. In the first five months of starting Build Safer Sports, I reached over three hundred athletes. Now, my platform has become a statewide organization. This is the route I will follow in my future. I won’t stop fighting until mental health inflicted by coaches is eliminated. I see this as a career. Hopefully one that doesn’t last long, as the sooner I achieve my goal the better, but one I’m excited to pursue. My coach's words meant nothing. I’m not stupid, useless, or unworthy. I’ve shown my state that I’m a fighter, dreamer, and survivor through the efforts I took to not only help myself heal, but to help others and end this ongoing issue. His words meant nothing, all that mattered is who the voice instead wanted me to be. Although I faced mental health challenges, I’m as strong as I’ve ever been because of it. I’m ready to continue using music to explore who I really am and using my platform to help athletes across the country.

Each year I take a trip with my aunt. Each year to a different place. Each year with new surprises. And while each year is different, each and every year we volunteer. We get the opportunity to experience a new organization every year. From Feed My Starving Children to Give Kids the World, these community service trips with my aunt have shaped the person I am today and continue to help me grow as a person. When most people think of pageant queens, all they think of is pretty crowns and world peace. While that’s great and all, as a queen myself the majority of my time is spent in community service. Using my own platform, Build Safer Sports, I’ve worked to end emotional abuse in sports and shine a light on the overlooked mental health of athletes. This has also resulted in many volunteer opportunities for me. I’ve been a volunteer coach for a volleyball team. I’ve helped at mental health workshops. I’ve assisted with sports events. Outside of my work in sports, I love volunteering in ways to help children. I work with Sunbeam Kids, an organization that teaches young kids the importance of volunteering. I spent a week at Give Kids the World, a village housing Make A Wish kids in Central Florida. I volunteered at Christmas events at my local elementary school. Each of these opportunities hold a special place in my heart. They each represent something I care about and how I can impact a life. Throughout my work volunteering, I never quite knew why I did it. I would see people talk about the work they did on Facebook. I would hear people say that it’s the right thing to do. I would listen to people wishing they could do more. Yet, I didn’t understand why it meant so much to me. That was until 2019 when I volunteered at Give Kids the World. As I worked at the ice cream stand, I made friends with one younger girl, about five or six, who loved strawberry ice cream. So, on my last day there, I decided to say goodbye. Until that day, I had no clue why she was there, as we weren’t supposed to talk about it with the families. That day she told me her story. She told me how she was diagnosed with Leukemia. She told me how she didn’t have many days left to live. She told me how I made a difference in her life. How she finally felt normal and she finally had a friend. It was that moment I realized why I spent my time volunteering. It doesn’t matter what I did or how I did it. It didn’t even matter how often I volunteered. The opportunity to make an impact on just one life is the opportunity of a lifetime. I will never forget the feeling of knowing that I impacted this young girl, but more importantly I will never forget the look in her eyes when she told me I was her first friend. Nothing can top that. So while community service can be time consuming, laboring, and even stressful at points, the result is worth the work. If each person made an impact on one other through volunteer work, our world would be a much better place, and the people you help teach you how to be a better person. That’s the value of community service. All it takes is one moment of generosity. One moment of your time. One moment of kindness. One moment to change a life.

Throughout my life, I’ve found that songs can mean more than words. We can connect to these stories unfolded by melodies and chords. The evolution of my mental health, and more importantly my initiative to inspire others, can be summed up by the lyric, “... that voice inside is who you are,” by Grandma Tala in Moana. I would have never thought that a Disney movie would mean so much to me; however, this one unadorned line defines the person I am today. My fourteens club volleyball season was my first encounter with emotional abuse. I was told I was stupid and that I should have never been put on that team. In my first high school season, the insults continued. I was told I was fat and that I wasn’t good enough by a coach who wasn’t even mine. During my fifteens club season, I cracked. I would make myself sick to get out of playing. I was told that I was worthless and that I would never be anything. My parents were wrong. All those words to “make me better” had torn away my confidence instead. For months I sat in silence. Embarrassed. Voiceless. Alone. I suffered from anxiety and depression. So I looked to music. I found lyrics that related to my feelings. I found melodies that would make the pain go away. I found rhythms that lit a fire beneath me. Soon I realized that I couldn’t sit in silence while another athlete struggled. In May of 2023, Build Safer Sport launched with the goal of ending emotional abuse in sports and shining a light on the overlooked mental health of athletes. For the first time since leaving volleyball, I felt like I had a purpose. I started competing in pageants to find new confidence. I rebuilt myself upon that stage. Never could I have guessed that community service, dresses, and spotlights could be used to cope. I expanded my platform. In the first five months of starting Build Safer Sports, I reached over three hundred athletes. Now, my platform has become a statewide organization and is ready to go nationwide as I fight to be a national queen this July. This is the route I will follow in my future. I won’t stop fighting until mental health inflicted by coaches is eliminated. I see this as a career. Hopefully one that doesn’t last long, as the sooner I achieve my goal the better, but one I’m excited to pursue. My coach's words meant nothing. I’m not stupid, useless, or unworthy. I’ve shown my state that I’m a fighter, dreamer, and survivor through the efforts I took to not only help myself heal, but to help others and end this ongoing issue. I’m ready to continue using music to explore who I really am and using my platform to help athletes across the country.

Each year I take a trip with my aunt. Each year to a different place. Each year with new surprises. And while each year is different, each and every year we volunteer. We get the opportunity to experience a new organization every year. From Feed My Starving Children to Give Kids the World, these community service trips with my aunt have shaped the person I am today. When most people think of pageant queens, all they think of is pretty crowns and world peace. While that’s great and all, as a queen myself the majority of my time is spent in community service. Using my own platform, Build Safer Sports, I’ve worked to end emotional abuse in sports and shine a light on the overlooked mental health of athletes. This has also resulted in many volunteer opportunities for me. I’ve been a volunteer coach for a volleyball team. I’ve helped at mental health workshops. I’ve assisted with sports events. Outside of my work in sports, I love volunteering in ways to help children. I work with Sunbeam Kids, an organization that teaches young kids the importance of volunteering. I spent a week at Give Kids the World, a village housing Make A Wish kids in Central Florida. I volunteered at Christmas events at my local elementary school. Each of these opportunities hold a special place in my heart. They each represent something I care about and how I can impact a life. Throughout my work volunteering, I never quite knew why I did it. I would see people talk about the work they did on Facebook. I would hear people say that it’s the right thing to do. I would listen to people wishing they could do more. Yet, I didn’t understand why it meant so much to me. That was until 2019 when I volunteered at Give Kids the World. As I worked at the ice cream stand, I made friends with one younger girl, about five or six, who loved strawberry ice cream. So, on my last day there, I decided to say goodbye. Until that day, I had no clue why she was there, as we weren’t supposed to talk about it with the families. That day she told me her story. She told me how she was diagnosed with Leukemia. She told me how she didn’t have many days left to live. She told me how I made a difference in her life. How she finally felt normal and she finally had a friend. It was that moment I realized why I spent my time volunteering. It doesn’t matter what I did or how I did it. It didn’t even matter how often I volunteered. The opportunity to make an impact on just one life is the opportunity of a lifetime. I will never forget the feeling of knowing that I impacted this young girl, but more importantly I will never forget the look in her eyes when she told me I was her first friend. Nothing can top that. So while community service can be time consuming, laboring, and even stressful at points, the result is worth the work. If each person made an impact on one other through volunteer work, our world would be a much better place. That’s the value of community service. All it takes is one moment of generosity. One moment of your time. One moment of kindness. One moment to change a life.

Beauty. A combination of qualities, such as shape, color, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight. When we are little the word beautiful is used so often to describe us, yet as we grow older our looks are judged further and more critically. As an athlete and pageant queen, beauty and physical appearance has been an important part of my life. When I started elementary school, I would always wear a dress and make my mom learn new hairstyles. When I started playing volleyball, I taught myself how to do fun braid trends. When I started middle school, my aunt taught me how to do my makeup. I was thrilled because I wanted to start my own makeup line someday, yet ten year old me thought at the time all my products would be made out of avocado. For my eleventh birthday, my aunt bought me a huge makeup kit filled to the brim with every product a girl could dream of. After that I started wearing makeup to school. I never thought much of it. Makeup was something I loved, my creative outlet. I would wear a simple, natural look to school, but when I got home I would experiment. I played with colors. I tried using different products for different steps. I learned color correction. Makeup was my passion. Only a few weeks after I started wearing makeup at school did I get funny looks, even from teachers. I didn't understand why. I didn't understand how it was any different from wearing a sports jersey, I was only displaying a passion of mine. My peers, however, saw makeup as a statement of being ugly. That if I was wearing makeup I must not be beautiful. I must not be secure in myself. I must not be confident. It wasn't until I started pageantry that I saw how wrong they were. The girls I compete with taught me that makeup doesn't make someone beautiful, rather that we are all beautiful in our own way. This is what inspired me to start the first steps to creating Beauty In You, a makeup line that creates products focused on highlighting your favorite features rather than covering "flaws". I want to show young women across the world that beauty is in all of us, and that no one can define our worth. I want to change the stereotypes around people who wear makeup. I want to change the makeup industry. Unfortunately, as someone who wants to receive an entrepreneurship degree and go to cosmetology school, it will likely take tens of years after I finish schooling to earn the money to start this line. It's no secret that college is expensive, and that starting a business is not only expensive but a risky expense. This financial support will allow me to take out less in student loans, allowing me to start my business as soon as possible. I don't want to see anymore young women face the struggles I faced for simply finding my passion. With this money I can impact more people sooner. With this money I can change the narrative of the makeup world. With this money we can stop saying bye bye to under eyes and instead say hello to the beauty in all of us.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Most five year olds would tell you that they wanted to be a popstar or a police officer. I, on the other hand, would proudly proclaim that I wanted to be an entrepreneur. My answer was always overlooked with my classmates not knowing what an entrepreneur was and my teachers not knowing how to spell the word. When I was six, I had a lemonade stand. My dad made me pay for all my ingredients to teach me about the cost of goods and pricing. On my seventh birthday, I got my dream present: Matel stock. Yes, I was a first grader begging my parents to buy me a stock. When I was eight, I started making business plans during free time in class. When I was nine, I ran the sales of a shirt to raise money for a mission trip one of my teachers was putting on. By the time I was ten I started being told to be realistic. The statistic of less than thirty percent of entrepreneurs succeeding became an expected response when talking about my future. I still held onto my dream. As enticing as being your own boss is, my true love for entrepreneurship comes from a desire to help others. From competing in pageants I’ve learned that you can make a difference and still make money. Sydni Dion paved the way for women of all skin tones in the shoe industry. Presley Pedigo teaches kids the importance of being community minded. Amanda Moreno trains women to be confident in who they are. All of these women have been incredibly successful financially while being even more successful at creating a difference. Unfortunately, with the cost of top schools, starting my business right after college seems improbable if not impossible. Each and every penny I receive in scholarships puts me a little closer to starting my business straight out of school. Any entrepreneur will tell you that it takes time to get started, so the more time you have the better. Starting my business at twenty two versus thirty could make all the difference. In a constantly changing world where entrepreneurs must keep up to succeed, an idea could be completely irrelevant only a couple years later. Therefore, time is what I need. The time that it takes to build, create, and reach success. This scholarship would give me time.

Throughout my life, I’ve found that songs can mean more than words. We can connect to these stories unfolded by melodies and chords. The evolution of my mental health, and more importantly my initiative to inspire others, can be summed up by the lyric, “... that voice inside is who you are,” by Grandma Tala in Moana. I would have never thought that a Disney movie would mean so much to me; however, this one unadorned line defines the person I am today. My fourteens volleyball season was my first encounter with emotional abuse. I was told I was stupid and I should have never been put on that team. In my first JV season, the insults continued. I was told I was fat and I wasn’t good enough. During my fifteens season, I cracked. I would make myself sick to get out of playing. I was told that I was worthless and I would never be anything. Those words to “make me better” had stolen my confidence instead. I was stuck in silence. Embarrassed. Voiceless. Alone. So I looked to music. I found lyrics that related to my feelings. I found melodies that would make the pain disappear. I found rhythms that lit a fire beneath me. I realized that I couldn’t sit in silence while another athlete struggled. In May of 2023, Build Safer Sports launched with the goal of ending emotional abuse and shining a light on the mental health of athletes. For the first time since leaving volleyball, I felt like I had a purpose. In the first five months of starting Build Safer Sports, I reached over three hundred athletes. Now, my platform has become a statewide organization and is ready to go nationwide. This is the route I will follow in my future. I won’t stop fighting until mental health inflicted by coaches is eliminated. I see this as a career. Hopefully one that doesn’t last long, as the sooner I achieve my goal the better, but one I’m excited to pursue. My coach's words meant nothing. I’m not stupid, useless, or unworthy. I’ve shown that I’m a fighter, dreamer, and survivor through the efforts I took to not only help myself heal, but to help others and end this ongoing issue. I’m ready to continue using music to explore who I really am and using my platform to help athletes across the country.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Most five year olds would tell you that they wanted to be a popstar or a police officer. I, on the other hand, would proudly proclaim that I wanted to be an entrepreneur. My answer was always overlooked with my classmates not knowing what an entrepreneur was and my teachers not knowing how to spell the word. When I was six, I had a lemonade stand. My dad made me pay for all my ingredients to teach me about the cost of goods and pricing. On my seventh birthday, I got my dream present: Matel stock. Yes, I was a first grader begging my parents to buy me a stock. When I was eight, I started making business plans during free time in class. When I was nine, I ran the sales of a shirt to raise money for a mission trip one of my teachers was putting on. By the time I was ten I started being told to be realistic. The statistic of less than thirty percent of entrepreneurs succeeding became an expected response when talking about my future. I still held onto my dream. As enticing as being your own boss is, my true love for entrepreneurship comes from a desire to help others. From competing in pageants I’ve learned that you can make a difference and still make money. Sydni Dion paved the way for women of all skin tones in the shoe industry. Presley Pedigo teaches kids the importance of being community minded. Amanda Moreno trains women to be confident in who they are. All of these women have been incredibly successful financially while being even more successful at creating a difference. At the age of fourteen I started my first business, PrepBallers Fundraising, to help athletes pay for club sports. The company had some initial success, but ultimately wasn’t producing the results I wanted it to. Still I didn’t give up. I heard from athletes how much this program had helped them. I knew I was making a difference, but I wanted to do it on a larger scale. Over the past two years I learned a lot about mistakes I made and areas to improve. Business is all about trial and error, learning from failures, and never giving up. I certainly did that. I was able to launch Build Safer Sport which helps athletes receive the resources they need for their mental health. This has been super successful to a point of reaching a national audience. I’ve learned that business isn’t easy, but when you succeed you can change lives. I wanted a career where I can see the impact I make, and I’ve found that career. As I take the next steps in my education, I’m excited to see how I can further my company to change the world of sports for good. The road to success may be bumpy, but I’m ready to conquer anything thrown my way.

A crown. A sparkling piece of plastic meant to show power. As the glittering stones were placed upon my head, I could only wonder how I stood on that stage. How I survived. How I thrived. After years of pain, I was the one holding power. Three years ago this day would have been unimaginable. My fourteens club volleyball season was my first encounter with emotional abuse. I was told I was stupid and that I should have never been put on that team. When I told my parents, unaware and uninformed of the signs of emotional abuse, they told me he just wanted to push me to be my best. So I ignored the insults, and the anxiety built. In my first high school season the insults continued. I was told I was too fat and that I wasn’t good enough by a coach who wasn’t even mine. I told my parents, and they told me to hold my head up high and prove him wrong. So I worked harder, and the anxiety built. During my fifteens club season I cracked. I couldn’t make it through practice. I would make myself sick to get out of playing. I was broken. I was told that I was worthless and that I would never be anything. All those words to “make me better” had torn away my confidence instead. For months I sat in silence. Embarrassed. Voiceless. Alone. Until I got a letter in the mail saying, “Come make a difference. Compete with National American Miss.” A pageant. The dress loving five year old in me wanted to scream. Of course I wanted to do it, but I needed a platform. A platform that I didn’t have. Pick something that impacted you, they told me, something you can connect with. Only one thing came to mind: Emotional abuse in sports. A silly, useless topic according to the coaches I spoke with, the same ones who had hurt me. However, I didn’t let them stop me. I couldn’t let them stop me. Build Safer Sport, a nonprofit organization with the goal of ending emotional abuse in sports and shining a light on the often overlooked mental health of athletes, was launched in May of 2023. For the first time since leaving volleyball, I felt like I had a purpose. August went by receiving sixth overall and the academic achievement award at my very first pageant. I found people who supported me and believed in me. I made lifelong friends. I rebuilt my confidence. After initial success, I competed again in October for the organization USA National Miss. A weekend of parties and competition led to being crowned the Miss Badger State Teen 2024. So there I was. Soaking in the spotlight with a crown on my head. With power I never thought would be mine. In the first five months of starting my platform I reached over three hundred athletes and built partnerships with local coach training organizations. Now, Build Safer Sports has become a statewide organization and is ready to go nationwide as I fight to be a national queen this July. From the insecure, broken volleyball player hidden in the shadows to the confident, change-making pageant queen stepping into the spotlight, my first two years of high school were vastly different from the last two. I’ve saved lives. I’ve spoken out. I’ve found myself again. With a newfound confidence, I’m ready to tackle any challenge life throws at me. I know that I can overcome anything because I have the power. I have that sparkly piece of plastic. I have a crown. But, more importantly, I’m finally the strong, confident woman I was meant to be.

Throughout my life, I’ve found that songs can mean more than words. We can connect to these stories unfolded by melodies and chords. The evolution of my mental health, and more importantly my recovery, can be summed up by the lyric, “... that voice inside is who you are,” by Grandma Tala in Moana. I would have never thought that a Disney movie would mean so much to me; however, this one unadorned line defines the person I am today. My fourteens club volleyball season was my first encounter with emotional abuse. I was told I was stupid and that I should have never been put on that team. When I told my parents, unaware and uninformed of the signs of emotional abuse, they told me my coach just wanted to push me to be my best. So I ignored the insults, and the anxiety built. In my first high school season, the insults continued. I was told I was fat and that I wasn’t good enough by a coach who wasn’t even mine. I told my parents, and they told me to hold my head up high and prove him wrong. So I worked harder, and the anxiety built. During my fifteens club season, I cracked. I would make myself sick to get out of playing. I was told that I was worthless and that I would never be anything. My parents were wrong. All those words to “make me better” had torn away my confidence instead. For months I sat in silence. Embarrassed. Voiceless. Alone. I suffered from anxiety and depression. My perfectionist self tried to hide it, but that only made my mental state worse. I thought those words were all I would ever be. Stupid. Useless. Unworthy. So I looked to music. I found lyrics that related to my feelings. I found melodies that would make the pain go away. I found rhythms that lit a fire beneath me. Soon I realized that I couldn’t sit in silence while another athlete struggled. In May of 2023, Build Safer Sport launched with the goal of ending emotional abuse in sports and shining a light on the overlooked mental health of athletes. For the first time since leaving volleyball, I felt like I had a purpose. I started competing in pageants to find new confidence. I rebuilt myself upon that stage. Never could I have guessed that community service, dresses, and spotlights could be used to cope. I expanded my platform. In the first five months of starting Build Safer Sports, I reached over three hundred athletes. Now, my platform has become a statewide organization and is ready to go nationwide as I fight to be a national queen this July. This is the route I will follow in my future. I won’t stop fighting until mental health inflicted by coaches is eliminated. I see this as a career. Hopefully one that doesn’t last long, as the sooner I achieve my goal the better, but one I’m excited to pursue. My coach's words meant nothing. I’m not stupid, useless, or unworthy. I’ve shown my state that I’m a fighter, dreamer, and survivor through the efforts I took to not only help myself heal, but to help others and end this ongoing issue. His words meant nothing, all that mattered is who the voice instead wanted me to be. Although I faced mental health challenges, I’m as strong as I’ve ever been because of it. I’m ready to continue using music to explore who I really am and using my platform to help athletes across the country.