For many, religion and rationality seem destined to conflict. One is assumed to depend on revelation, the other on reason; one demands faith, the other evidence. Yet Maimonides, writing in the medieval Islamic world with access to Greek philosophy and Jewish tradition alike, challenged this dichotomy with intellectual audacity. His Guide for the Perplexed remains a cornerstone of Jewish thought precisely because it dares to harmonize the seemingly irreconcilable. In Part I, Chapter 54, he writes: “The more you know about the things that exist, the more you will appreciate the Creator; for all knowledge leads to Him.” This brief assertion offers a gateway into his larger philosophical project: making the pursuit of knowledge a sacred act. To understand this, we must first appreciate Maimonides’ conception of God—not as a personalized deity intervening arbitrarily, but as the necessary being, pure intellect, and unchanging source of all order. This conception draws heavily from Aristotelian metaphysics, which Maimonides absorbs and refines within a Jewish framework. For Aristotle, the “Unmoved Mover” is the final cause of all motion and form; for Maimonides, God is similarly abstracted from anthropomorphism, an infinite intellect whose nature transcends human grasp. Yet, according to Maimonides, creation itself—its laws, patterns, and structures—reflects divine wisdom. To study nature is therefore not to drift from religious awe, but to immerse oneself in it. This is a crucial insight. In Maimonides' theology, the path to God is paved not through emotional fervor, but through disciplined contemplation. The Torah, while containing legal and narrative dimensions, is ultimately a tool to cultivate both ethical behavior and intellectual refinement. Worship, then, is not limited to rituals or prayer—it includes inquiry, philosophy, and science. Just as observing Shabbat honors God's creation, so too does understanding celestial mechanics, biology, or logic. Each facet of existence, when properly comprehended, reveals another stroke of divine architecture. Importantly, Maimonides argues that such knowledge must be earned. God cannot be known through superficial readings or unreflective tradition. Instead, the individual must wrestle with complexity, ambiguity, and intellectual rigor. This is where the “perplexed” come in—not those who reject religion, but those tormented by the seeming contradiction between religious beliefs and philosophical evidence. Maimonides sees this state not as a failure, but as an opening: perplexity is a sacred tension that drives deeper learning. Faith, in his model, is not the end of the journey, but its beginning. This has profound ethical implications. If understanding leads to God, then ignorance is not benign—it is spiritually corrosive. The refusal to learn is a form of spiritual stagnation, while the commitment to education becomes a religious duty. Moreover, since creation itself reflects divine wisdom, knowledge must be used to elevate society. Maimonides was a physician, judge, and community leader—he did not seclude himself in ivory towers. His intellectual worship compelled him to serve others, applying wisdom to heal, guide, and teach. Thus, knowledge of God is not abstract—it must shape one's ethical and communal life. In today's world, Maimonides’ philosophy is both challenging and urgent. In an age where misinformation proliferates and dogma often triumphs over evidence, his vision calls for a renaissance of intellectual humility and rigor. He reminds us that religious life need not be anti-scientific or anti-intellectual. On the contrary, it flourishes when rooted in genuine understanding. His integration of faith and reason serves as a model not only for Jews but for anyone seeking to reconcile tradition with truth. And yet, Maimonides does not romanticize knowledge. He recognizes its limits. The human mind, no matter how powerful, cannot fully grasp God’s essence. Our intellectual journey is asymptotic—we approach, but never arrive. Even so, the pursuit itself is sacred. The awe that arises from contemplating the cosmos, the humility found in unanswered questions, and the discipline of ethical reasoning—these are acts of devotion. In this way, Maimonides offers a theology not of certainty, but of perpetual seeking. To know God, then, is to know what can be known—and to accept what cannot. It is to peer into creation with reverence, recognizing that each truth uncovered brings us a step closer to divine presence. It is to see science not as sterile analysis, but as a window into transcendence. And it is to hold the Torah not as an anchor of blind belief, but as a compass guiding us toward enlightenment.

I’m a fan of Wicked not just because of its music or spectacle, but because of the layered story it tells—one that echoes with historical weight and emotional truth. Gregory Maguire’s original novel presents an Oz ruled by fear and propaganda, where scapegoating and authoritarian power echo the mechanisms of fascism in Nazi Germany. While the musical adaptation softens some of those elements, it retains powerful themes of prejudice, othering, and persecution. As someone from a Jewish and Venezuelan background, those themes feel especially personal. One moment that struck me deeply was the storyline of Doctor Dillamond—the goat professor who loses his position and voice. The way he’s systematically silenced, dismissed, and blamed mirrors exactly what I’ve learned about Jewish persecution in Europe—how Jews were painted as a threat, stripped of rights, and imprisoned not for what they did, but for who they were. Watching that unfold in Oz doesn’t feel like fantasy—it feels like a mirror of real and painful history. That experience of being marked as “other,” of being feared for one’s difference, is something many Jewish people, immigrants, and marginalized groups have lived through. The fact that Elphaba is also misunderstood and vilified for her appearance and ideals drives that point home: that systems of power often rely on exclusion and fear to maintain control. And yet, she resists. She defies gravity. That defiance feels deeply Jewish to me—a refusal to be erased or rewritten. It reminds me of how our communities have persisted, reclaimed narrative, and passed down truth even when the world tried to silence us. Wicked doesn’t name the Holocaust or fascism explicitly, but its emotional terrain is one that many Jews will recognize: the pain of being cast out, the danger of collective scapegoating, and the courage it takes to stand up anyway. So yes, I’m a fan of Wicked—because beneath the soaring harmonies and theatrical magic lies a story about resilience, resistance, and reclaiming voice. And that’s a story I not only recognize, but hope to help tell in my own way.

My name is Hannah, and I come from a Venezuelan Jewish family whose strength, warmth, and resilience have shaped how I see the world. Growing up in a multicultural home taught me that identity is layered, beautiful, and sometimes complicated—but always worth honoring. My Hispanic roots have not only given me a love of vibrant food, expressive language, and tight-knit community—they’ve shown me how to hold complexity with grace. In my family, storytelling isn’t just conversation—it’s how we remember who we are. I grew up listening to stories of my family’s journey, of navigating migration, rebuilding lives, advocating for those in need, and holding onto joy even in uncertainty. That legacy gave me a deep respect for perseverance and adaptability, and a keen awareness of how cultural identity can be both a compass and a source of courage. Being Venezuelan has also shown me the beauty of cultural blending. Venezuelan culture brings together Indigenous, African, and European influences, creating something uniquely vibrant and deeply communal. Whether it’s in the food we cook, the music we dance to, or the way we gather with warmth and laughter, there’s a natural rhythm of connection and resilience. That spirit taught me to find beauty in complexity and to celebrate difference as something generative, not divisive. At the same time, being both Hispanic and Jewish has taught me resilience in a different way. It comes with its challenges—sometimes even within the communities I belong to. But I’ve learned that no matter where I go, both identities live in me. I no longer feel like I have to choose. Instead, I embrace the fullness of who I am, and let it guide how I move through the world—with pride, empathy, and strength. That understanding shapes every part of who I am. I’m currently pursuing a degree in Jewish Studies at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee, and I hope to later study journalism. My goal is to tell stories that honor complexity, amplify underrepresented voices, and build cultural bridges. I want to create safe spaces for Jewish youth, foster interfaith dialogue, and—perhaps most of all—give voice to those who are too often unheard. Whether it’s fellow Jewish students, young people navigating layered identities, or members of the immigrant Venezuelan community, I want to lift up the stories that matter but rarely reach the microphone. The values my background instilled—resilience, warmth, curiosity, and a love of community—are not just part of my history. They’re the foundation of the future I’m building, one story and one connection at a time.

My name is Hannah, and my journey as a student has been anything but linear—but it’s also been deeply transformative. I come from Venezuela, a country whose resilience and complexity continue to shape how I see the world. That heritage has instilled in me a sense of strength, adaptability, and cultural richness that I carry into everything I do. I began my college experience at Florida Gulf Coast University studying education. I loved working with children and imagined a future in the classroom. But when the pandemic hit, I found myself overwhelmed by isolation and mounting pressure, both academically and personally. I became burnt out, anxious, and deeply depressed. I kept going for as long as I could, believing I had to keep showing up for others, even when I was no longer well myself. Eventually, I made the difficult decision to leave. I took time to heal and reflect—not to quit, but to rediscover who I was and what I truly wanted. That space helped me reconnect with my roots, my identity, and the stories that shaped me. I found a deep love for Jewish Studies, particularly in the ways it explores identity, resilience, and meaning. I realized that while I had once believed the classroom was my destination, it was the content I was most passionate about. I returned to college at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee to pursue Jewish Studies and, eventually, I hope to earn a graduate degree in journalism. My goal is to merge storytelling, education, and advocacy: to write about faith, identity, and justice—especially stories that are overlooked. I want to create safe spaces for Jewish youth, foster interfaith bridges, and build platforms that cultivate belonging and awareness in a fractured world. This scholarship would help ease the financial burden of student loans and allow me to focus more deeply on education, internships, and meaningful community work. Though my loans are modest compared to others’, being able to graduate without that weight would give me the freedom to invest fully in my projects—and to support my family in the ways they’ve always supported me. That peace of mind would help turn possibility into action. I may have started unsure of my direction, but now I walk forward grounded in my heritage and faith, informed by my challenges, and driven by a desire to uplift and empower others—especially those still searching for their place and their voice.

My plans for the future are rooted in purpose, curiosity, and a deep desire to make a difference through education, writing, and community engagement. After returning to college to pursue a degree in Jewish Studies at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee, I’ve found a field that not only challenges me intellectually but reconnects me to the questions of identity, culture, and meaning that give life depth. This program has become more than an academic pursuit—it’s a path back to myself. Beyond my current degree, I plan to pursue a second degree in journalism. Through the convergence of Jewish thought and journalism, I hope to explore and share stories that are too often overlooked—stories of faith, resilience, and the lived experiences of Jewish communities. I envision myself writing in ways that foster empathy, preserve culture, and bring underrepresented voices into broader conversations. Whether I’m publishing articles, teaching, or developing educational resources, I want to create work that helps others feel seen, informed, and empowered. One of the deepest callings I carry into my future is the desire to create a safe space for Jewish youth. During my own journey, I’ve seen how vital it is to have places where identity is nurtured, questions are welcomed, and connection feels authentic. I want to build environments—both physical and digital—where young Jewish individuals can explore their heritage, find belonging, and develop the tools to navigate an increasingly complex world with strength and self-understanding. Alongside that, I’m equally passionate about fostering interfaith relations. In today’s world, where division often overshadows dialogue, I believe it’s essential to build bridges across religious traditions. I want to work on initiatives that bring together people of different faiths to learn from one another, find shared values, and collaborate on efforts that promote peace, empathy, and social justice. As someone grounded in both Jewish identity and openness to diverse perspectives, I see interfaith work as a natural and necessary extension of my path. This scholarship would be a crucial step in turning that vision into reality. Returning to college as a nontraditional student hasn’t been without its financial and emotional challenges. I’ve had to work part-time while balancing academics and personal healing, and every bit of support makes a real difference. This scholarship would ease the financial burden, allowing me to focus more deeply on research, community-building, and honing my voice as a writer and educator. It would also affirm the path I’ve worked so hard to reclaim—one that prioritizes mental health, authenticity, and meaningful contribution. I no longer see education as just a stepping stone. For me, it’s a calling and a commitment—to myself, to the communities I care about, and to the stories that still need telling. This scholarship would help me walk that path with greater stability and continue building a future defined not only by what I achieve, but by the strength, safety, and belonging I hope to offer others.

Mental health matters to me as a student because I’ve seen what happens when it’s neglected—and how profoundly life changes when it’s finally prioritized. As someone who once believed academic success meant powering through at all costs, I now understand that mental well-being is not a luxury or an afterthought. It is the very foundation that allows me to learn, grow, and thrive—not just as a student, but as a whole person. My personal wake-up call came during my first college experience. I had gone straight from high school to Florida Gulf Coast University, eager to study education. I loved the children I worked with and had a deep desire to teach, but the environment was overwhelming. When the pandemic hit, I felt the floor drop out from under me. Classes went remote, isolation grew, and the pressure to perform only mounted. I felt unsupported, disconnected, and emotionally numb. My passion began to dim under the weight of depression and anxiety, and I reached a point where each day felt like a chore. I kept telling myself to stick it out—for the kids, for my degree, for an image of success I no longer believed in. But eventually, I had to face the truth: I couldn’t keep sacrificing my mental health without losing myself. Leaving school was not easy. For a long time, I questioned my decision. But stepping away gave me something I hadn’t had in years: space to heal. I rediscovered who I was beyond the grind and found clarity about what truly drives me. That time away led me to Jewish Studies, a field that has helped me reconnect with my identity, values, and purpose. I’ve since returned to college at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, this time with a commitment to honoring my well-being alongside my academic goals. I also hope to pursue journalism in the future—a space where I can amplify underrepresented voices and build bridges through thoughtful storytelling. But mental health isn’t just personal for me—it’s something I actively advocate for in the communities I’m part of. I’ve learned to be open about my experiences, not to seek pity, but to break down stigma. At home, I’ve supported loved ones by encouraging honest conversations about anxiety and burnout. Among friends and peers, I strive to create spaces where it's okay to admit you're struggling, to ask for help, or simply to take a breath. And in my job at the religious school, I bring empathy and intention into the classroom, modeling what it looks like to show up fully, without hiding pain or pretending to be perfect. I believe that normalizing vulnerability is one of the most powerful ways to advocate for mental health. Whether it’s gently checking in on a friend, encouraging someone to speak with a counselor, or choosing rest without guilt, these small moments can add up to a culture where people feel seen and supported. As a student, I no longer view mental health as something separate from academic achievement—it’s an essential part of the equation. It shapes how I approach deadlines, relationships, and resilience. Prioritizing it has made me a better learner, a more compassionate teacher, and a more grounded human being. I carry that awareness with me every day, both in my own journey and in how I support others. Because when we honor our mental health, we don't just survive school—we begin to truly live and learn.

I went straight form Highschool to college, no pause, no breath- just a fast-moving train i felt I had to stay on. At first, majoring in Education at Florida Gulf Coast University felt like the right fit. I genuinely loved working with children, and their energy gave me a brief glimpses of joy. But behind the lesson plans and cheerful faces, I was quietly unraveling. The academic pressure intensified, the pandemic hit, and I felt increasingly unsupported. Each day became something I had to survive rather than experience. I was burned out, depressed, and anxious. I told myself to stay-for the kids, for the degree, for the image of success I had held onto for so long. But I was running on empty. Choosing to leave FGCU was incredibly painful, and for a while, I blamed myself. But it was also the first time I truly listened to what I needed. I stepped away-not because i didn't care, but because I finally chose to care for myself. In the stillness that followed, I started to breathe again That time away gave me the space to reflect- not just on what wasn't working, but on what I deeply cared about. I discovered a love for research, writing, and Jewish studies. I found myself drawn to questions of identity, spirituality, and meaning- topics that had always lingered in the background, waiting for me to catch up. My part-time job at a local religious school quickly became the best part of my week. Teaching Judaic topics and connecting with students in an environment that reflected my values helped me rediscover not just joy, but purpose. What began as healing became a new direction. Though classrooms have always felt like my safe space, I realized my true passion wasn't just in how I taught- it was in what I was teaching. And even more profoundly, i understood that a classroom doesn't need four walls. It can be anywhere I bring intention, curiosity, and connection. That clarity led me to return to college-this time at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee- to pursue a degree in Jewish Studies with renewed purpose. My experience also reignited a deep interest in Journalism, and I hope to pursue that path next in graduate school. I want to write with depth and authenticity, bringing Jewish stories, voices, and thought into broader cultural conversations. Prioritizing my well-being didn't derail my future- it gave me one i truly believe in. I'm stepping forward in a path I chose, grounded in resilience, clarity, and meaning.

When I think about my favorite thing about Disney, I think about the moments shared with my loved ones through Disney. Whether it is through the art of the films, the excitement of the parks, or the nostalgia of a character, Disney has always made sure that families come together to share its magic. Through the magic of Disney, everyone can be a child again, and they can find solace in a world that is filled with sorrow at times. As Walt Disney said, "Laughter is timeless, imagination has no age, and dreams are forever." Growing up, my favorite thing to do was watch Disney Movies with my family. Everyone in the home had "their" movie, and you would know what we were going to watch by who was choosing the movie. For my mom, it was "Beauty and the Beast," for my dad it was "Aladdin," for my sister it was "Sleeping Beauty," and for me, it was "Snow White." Did we enjoy other Disney movies as well? Of Course! However, these were the ones that stuck with us as a family. Disney films became a staple of comfort in my home. Feeling Sad? Disney film. Feeling Sick? Disney film. Feeling scared? Disney film. I still feel the nostalgia of falling asleep to the sound of "Fantasia" or the swell in my heart at listening to my dad tell me how his happiest memory was seeing the hand-washing scene of "Snow White" through an old film roll camera. Those are the moments that stick in your heart forever. Disney parks became an extension of our love for Disney films. Living in Florida, Walt Disney World Parks became the playground where everyone in the family could live in the world they wanted. Where my dad could fly the millennium falcon and defeat the first order, where my mother could fly along with Peter Pan, my sister could explore a Haunted Mansion, and I could travel back in time to become a Pirate. Each member of the family was in touch with their inner child in a world that wasn't expecting them to grow old, but to be happy. One of my happiest memories was being in the line at the Tower of Terror with my dad, and on the balcony was Goofy waving to the crowd below. All the kids in the line were screaming trying to get his attention and make him turn around. When he did the first person he saw was me. Mind you, I was not a child in this story but a 21-year-old woman. It just so happens that I was wearing a Powerline shirt from "The Goofy Movie" and Goofy got so excited that he ran and hugged me as if we had been friends for a long time. Instantly, I was not 21 anymore, but five-years-old meeting Goofy for the first time, I even performed the dance from the movie with him right after. As magical as that moment was, what made it truly magical was sharing it with my dad whom I had always compared with Goofy for being a wonderful father full of love and laughter. Disney is a place of comfort, nostalgia, and memories. It can bring multiple generations together each with their memory of childhood happiness. It can make an adult go back to playing like a child again. Most importantly, it can make the darkest of days into the brightest of days by providing two very important things: Love and hope for the future.

My favorite song on Taylor Swift's "1989" album is "Shake It Off." Despite being seen as just a feel-good song inside an album full of other romantic or heartbreaking pieces, this song depicted the struggles Taylor Swift faces with the media and anyone who is against her. Through its relatability and message, "Shake It Off" has become an anthem for anyone who has ever been critiqued or judged, and how people can take those comments and push them aside to move forward with their life and dreams. As an immigrant and a Jew, critique has been a constant in my life. When starting my life again in a new country, everything I did was strange or incorrect. The way I talked wasn't correct, the food I ate wasn't correct, the way I dressed wasn't correct, and even my passions weren't correct. I honestly felt like I had a large "F" for failure on my forehead for most of my teen years. This happened so often that I started to assimilate people's words into my own. When Taylor says, "I stay out too late, got nothin' in my brain, that's what people say" I can almost hear that derogatory self-speech that means "Well if people are saying it then it must be true, I am a failure." Nevertheless, some small part of me kept fighting to be who I wanted to be. Taylor speaks in her song about the voice in her mind saying "It's going to be alright". My voice had to remind me of who I was and how unique my journey had been so far. The voice in me that was desperately screaming, "Here I am! The girl who loves dancing in her room, who enjoys playing music on her guitar and violin, who could live in a library, who adores cheesy romance movies, who speaks two languages, who loves her family and religion, please don't throw me away! You are not broken!." It's hard sometimes, but that voice, whether it's me or someone else, has kept me going even when I didn't want to go on. Lastly, Taylor teaches that we aren't meant to change how people think of us, but we can change how we think about ourselves. Taylor uses the phrases, "Players gonna play, haters gonna hate, heartbreakers gonna break, and the fakers gonna fake" to show that there are always going to be people who will have something negative to say. However, the only one who can decide if those comments are worth holding on to or if you just have to "shake them off" is yourself. So in just a few words and a wonderful beat, Taylor has taught many people that despite the people who put you down, there are still ways to still find yourself. That part of you that is happy and enjoys your life and follows your dreams. The part of you that wants to keep on grooving and won't stop moving and listen to their voice in their mind saying "It's going to be alright."

"I got this, I'm fine, Leave it to me." These are the words that followed me since my childhood. What my parents and those around me thought was independence and maturity, was fear and anxiety preparing me for the worst-case scenario every single day. My constant need to act, speak, and look perfect is what led me to put up walls of perfection that didn't allow anyone, not even my parents, to reach in and help me. In school, I was always the leader of the class, both socially and academically. My teachers always told my parents that I was an obedient and quiet student. It was the same at home, whatever my parents said was the law and no one in the house got away if I was around. In reality, I didn't want to be critiqued or yelled at. I remember being in first grade and covering my ears whenever the teacher was yelling at the class. I would do it subtly so the teacher wouldn't see me. Also, my mom was an explosive person whenever she got upset, she would yell and slam things so loudly I would get paralyzed by fear and my stomach would turn. As an adult, I've come to hate slamming and yelling so much as it still paralyzes me. I was also used to putting everyone's needs ahead of my own to receive approval. If a teacher asked for an unreasonable amount of work to be done by the next day, I didn't complain and stayed until three in the morning to finish it. I didn't care if I was falling asleep on my desk the next day because I was going to see that "A" or "100" in my paper. Often, my parents would ask if I needed help with an assignment and I would angrily turn them away. I felt like if I had any help, it would take away that feeling of accomplishment. It was easy to establish this destructive system when I was in school as a minor and my life was easier to control. My system worked for me till the day of my graduation in 2019. However, what would I do later when life started to get uncertain? God and my field of study saved my life from crumbling. When I got to college, the destructive system I had created no longer worked, and without it I felt I had nothing. I became depressed and anxious and I felt I had no purpose in my life. I had worked so hard to get to where I was without ever stopping for one moment to figure out who I was and what I wanted. For the first time in my life, I let go. I took a semester off school to figure out what was I going to do with my life. My parents supported me through my decisions as they had seen how much damage I had done to myself. My mother told me to seek a connection to God. Coming from a Jewish family, God was always present in our home. We are active and close to our synagogue family. While in high school, I wanted to get a job to get some labor experience. I began working at the religious school in my synagogue as a teacher's assistant. Religious school was one of my favorite places to go as a child, and I was knowledgeable in Bible topics and reading Hebrew. I slowly started falling in love with my job and the people I worked with. The year I took off college, the pandemic had started. I felt so sad because the religious school had to shut down for three months till they could figure out a way to teach without spreading the virus. I was constantly checking my email, hoping to see when would I be able to return to my happy place. Soon, I received the call that would change my life for the better. It was my boss, one of the Rabbis from our synagogue, calling me to let me know that religious school was back in session. However, they were going to offer me a new position which was to be a 7th-grade Judaica teacher. Although I was intimidated at first, I quickly responded, "Yes." That year, what started as the worst year of my life soon became the best. My first class was amazing and I was so happy to be able to share my knowledge on a topic I loved so dearly. I realized that this is where I wanted to be, surrounded by my community and teaching my students. The following semester I would start an online program at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee to get my Bachelor's Degree in Jewish Studies. There is a poem called "Footprints in the Sand” where God says, "My precious child, I love you and will never leave you. Never, ever, during your trials and tests. When you saw only one set of footprints, It was then that I carried you." I understood that all the negative had been for a purpose and I was grateful for it. God never asked me to be perfect nor had He asked me to put my needs aside. He was there teaching me so that I could teach my students, how to not make the same mistakes I did and to be the hand that reaches out to help when they need it.

It is important for me to manage my finances as a student, as it allows me to know how much money I am making and how to spend it wisely. In college, students gain some financial independence from their parents, and while that is great in many ways, it could also be harming a student's future. Unfortunately, the school system has failed to prepare younger generations on how to manage their money. Personally, as a student, I find myself lost from time to time in the vast world that is personal finances. School may have taught me valuable subjects such as Math, English, History, Music, and Science, but no one taught me how to do my taxes, how to make a budget, how to use a credit card, how to invest, nor how to own property. Essentially no one taught me how to support myself in the real world. Ninety percent of my financial knowledge has come from my research on these topics. As a college student, I am preparing myself intellectually for the real world, but as a human being that lives in an unpredictable world, I have to prepare myself financially as well. My first step when I first started managing my finances was how to make a budget. After thoroughly researching various methods on how to make a budget, I landed on one that fit my situation: The 50/30/20 method. This budgeting method leaves you with a range of money to use in different situations and can be modified according to your priorities. This method is great for college students who work or receive an allowance, and it teaches them not to overspend. It can also work for those who do quarterly or monthly budget plans as well. Essentially, when the person receives a paycheck or an allowance they will break down the money into three different categories. 50% goes to your needs such as rent, groceries, payments, or anything essential to your life. 30% goes to your wants which can be used for shopping, going out, or funding a hobby. Lastly, 20% can be used for any sort of savings you may have such as an emergency fund or general savings account. For example, if I make around $1,200 a month at my job, $600 would go to my needs, $360 would go to my wants, and $240 would go to my savings. However, these percentages can be fixed depending on which categories you would like to increase or decrease. Through this method, I've learned how to categorize my money to spend it wisely while taking care of my needs. Many students end up broke even while living on campus, which then leads them to unhealthy habits that could deteriorate their quality of life just because they are not financially educated. The great part about this budgeting style is that they can take it with them once they graduate and use it throughout their entire life. There are many ways in which students can manage their finances well, and students need to understand that not everyone is going to have the same method. However, students must know how much money they are gaining and how much they are using and what they are using it for.

Have you ever heard of a Venezuelan Pabellón? It is a traditional Venezuelan dish composed of Rice, shredded beef in a stew, and black beans. On some occasions, additional items such as fried cheese, plantain, or avocado may be added. This dish is loved by Venezuelans because it tells a story of the beginnings of Venezuela. Each base item represents a group that formed the country. The Rice represents the Europeans that first came to conquer the territory of Venezuela, bringing with them European culture and education. The meat represents natives who engraved their culture in Venezuela that is still relevant even today through food and traditional dances. The black beans represent the African slaves that through their hard work and sacrifice, build the foundations of our towns and cities inspiring our country to show resilience in the face of adversity. So what is the relevance to all this? Why did I choose to speak about a Venezuelan dish to explain my heritage? Well, it is because I, like many other Venezuelans, am like a pabellón. However, in my pabellón, I'll make some changes and add on Shakshouka for my Sephardi heritage to keep it kosher and savory. My family, whether through blood or love has been exposed and connected to many races, cultures, and religions across time. Although maintaining our Jewish heritage first at all times, these cultures shaped and presented us with the beauty of people from across the world. Just inside my family, we have a great variety of ethnic groups many deriving from Spain, Italy, Portugal, and Morocco. Flamenco, hearty meals and Ladino sayings are common things in my family as well as a mix of Arabic singing through our connection to Morocco. Outside of my family, we were exposed to the vast cultural showcase that was Venezuela even before I moved to the United States. Venezuela was commonplace for people all around the world to travel to since it was very good for businesses because of our oil reserves and natural resources, but it also had trade connections with other adjoining countries such as Brazil, Colombia, Chile, and Mexico. As a result of these, many cultures began blossoming in Venezuela bringing along with them all the good things their countries of origin had to offer. Some examples are the Chinese Federation, The Russian House of Friendship, Arabic communities, as well as the Canadian and Thailand consulates. All of these worked closely to enhance Venezuelan communities with the additional help of the Jewish community of Venezuela which had a significant influence on international and interfaith relations. As a young girl, I became enamored with many different cultures and languages. As a student at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee majoring in Jewish Studies. I was able to broaden my knowledge of Jewish communities around the world along with their cultures and stories. As a future Jewish Educator, I wish to use my love for history, culture, and languages to research and teach others about the diverse world of Judaism with its customs and hidden stories. I also wish to motivate others to bring forth a piece of their heritage. A lot of times, we need encouragement to show a little piece of ourselves that is so essential to our world. I want to show the Jewish community that we too are like a Pabellón mixed with multiple colors and flavors that when combined, become the most delicious and precious dish ever created

Whenever I get asked who my favorite Disney character is, I instantly think, "Kuzco" from "The Emperor's New Groove." Not only is he a captivating and hilarious character, bringing his sarcasm and irony into every line of the movie, but he is everything the main Disney character is not supposed to be. Behind his facade of being the emperor and wanting to be the center of attention in every situation, Kuzco is very lonely. Kuzco has never been shown any real friendship and support throughout his upbringing, so he hides behind his title to protect himself. Kuzco is a character that you can come to love or hate. Regardless of what others say about the movie, the character arc and depth that Kuzco develops throughout his story can be relatable to many, thus making his character relatable and admired. Kuzco is an entirely flipped version of the main Disney character. While other characters despite being princes or princesses, usually are against being what they are to follow their dreams and passions. They are the humble image of kindness and well-being of their kingdom. However, Kuzco wears his crown with pride. Kuzco grew up with the idea that by being emperor he was the center of the universe and everything revolved around him. Also, Kuzco is the main character that has no personal motive to become better or go on adventures. When turned into a llama, Kuzco's only motive is to turn back into a human and return to the palace to resume his luxurious and carefree lifestyle. Kuzco's change comes with experience. His story teaches us that sometimes you don't need to save someone or go on a major quest, sometimes you have to save yourself to move forward in life. As Kuzco goes on his journey he discovers what it means to be self-less and a team player through the kindness of Pacha and his family, he also learns to be more careful of how he treats others by realizing the anger he caused Yzma by firing her as his advisor, causing her to plot against him. Finally, he learned that his people needed him to be a ruler who cares for and protects his kingdom. Kuzco comes to understand that the only way he will succeed as emperor is by opening his heart to those who need him most.

Feeling overwhelmed with classes, clubs, and after-school activities? Starting to feel burnout about school or that lovely major you were so excited to work towards? Then, my friend, pull out that colorful planner you got at that back-to-school sale or pull up the calendar app on your phone and let's get to work. As soon as the morning alarm rings, we are owned by our responsibilities, so here is how we going to back our power. Schedule everything that takes your time on a regular week, including commute if you have to drive somewhere, now with your calendar done, schedule time for fun. Crazy right? How shall I fit in the fun when I have a book report due and they haven't made a movie about it yet? Well, how about having a cup of tea, or going for a walk with your dog? If you have weekends free, plan something bigger like going to a movie or the ice skating ring with friends. Whatever it is you need time to have fun and disconnect from school work. Your mind needs to have a break to keep striving high in academics so go ahead and schedule fun.

"One day, you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again" -C.S.Lewis. I remember that "The Chronicles of Narnia" was the first series I ever read when I was just a little girl. My parents instilled in me a love for reading from an early age, and my favorite trip was not the park but the bookstore. On one of those trips, I found the book series "The Chronicles of Narnia." They were hardcover, and each one had a different color. The books had beautiful pictures on the front, with a symbol that represented the main theme of that book in the series. I grabbed the green book with the number one on it, plopped down next to my mom in a bookstore seat, and begin my journey to the world of Narnia through the story of "The Magician's Nephew." Growing up religious, and having religion be a significant part of my life even now as a college student, I felt deeply connected to the story and its teachings. I especially felt a strong connection to the character of Lucy Pevensie. She is the youngest of the four Pevensie children who would one day become Kings and Queens of Narnia. In the second book of the series, Lucy is the first one of her siblings to discover the wardrobe that leads to Narnia. Throughout her newly found discovery, Lucy is never afraid and quickly makes her first friend there, Mr. Tumnus who is a faun. Lucy, like me, was falling in love with Narnia for the first time at the peak of her child-like innocence. After convincing her siblings, including her obstinate brother Edmund, the four Pevensies get pulled along on an adventure after finding out Mr. Tumnus was taken by the White Witch who brings snow but never Christmas at Narnia. Through many turmoils and new-found friendships, the Pevensies eventually meet Aslan. This character is none other than a lion who according to C.S. Lewis is supposed to represent God. Lucy is the only one of the Pevensies who can create a close and personal relationship with Aslan. She sees him as a powerful, but caring and kind figure. She loves and misses him the most whenever he goes away. In my experience, all of my siblings had difficult relationships with religion itself and the overall existence of God. I can't blame them, because the same way the Pevensies were at war and in a conflict in their lives so were my siblings. Meanwhile, I found religion as comforting, and God's love and presence were like that of a parent figure. I hoped to make God proud and it hurts when I don't feel him near. This book made such an impact on me because I was able to find someone who could understand how I felt when it came to religion. Even if the book series ended on a somewhat sad note with the world of Narnia coming to an end. All of the characters from the book reunite in the new world Aslan created. The book series taught me not only that my connection to God is my own, but to appreciate everything that God gave me, and to live now and do what is right for myself and those I love, because one day it may come to an end. One day the book will close, where my own story will lie, because "things never happen the same way twice, dear one."

Healthy eating habits should follow people throughout their whole lives. However, it is easier said than done. In my experience, healthy eating habits came into my life through a hard path. I am originally from Venezuela, where the word "organic" or "genetically modified" was nowhere to be found inside grocery stores or food markets. This was a good thing because it meant that our food supply was fresh, and people could identify easier which type of food was healthy for the body and which wasn't. Unfortunately, The United States food system is different from most places in the U.S. the word "organic" is only accessible to those who can afford it. Ever try to buy all of your groceries for the month or at least a week at WholeFoods on a college student's salary? Not impossible, but very difficult. Growing up, my parents sometimes had to throw away the phrase "eat your greens" because there wasn't any money for greens. Sometimes all you had was a coupon for the nearest McDonald's or Domino's, enough to feed a family of four. When it comes to survival, nutrition is out the window. The same rule applies to college students who must decide between buying healthy food, supplies for class, or even paying the remnant of their tuition. Unfortunately, like me, people aren't willing to find a solution until problems knock at the door. While in high school, both my physical and mental health started deteriorating. I was overweight, I was unfocused as well as tired, and I had constant anxiety attacks. As a result, my parents decided to take me to the doctor and run tests to see if everything was in order. Unfortunately, it wasn't; my physical health had suffered so much that all my hormone levels were very low or high. No wonder I was constantly suffering! After additional tests, it even turned out I had developed food allergies and intolerances. This was my wake-up call; I had to change my eating habits and life. My family changed the way they ate and made a budget to be able to purchase good food. Through all the changes, I started noticing how not only my physical appearance changed, but my mental health improved as well. I began to become more confident and focused in class. I could take charge and actively participate in the activities I wanted to do. I started having a more positive outlook on life. I also learned to eat in moderation and not let food enjoy me but to enjoy food and enjoy the art of cooking for me and those who I love.

Learning opens a world of possibilities and solutions. Not only do I, as an educator, believe that learning is a lifelong task, but I also value the importance of learning. People should never stop improving their intellectual side, whether it is a new language, profession, skill, or hobby. Through my personal experience and those I hold dear, I've learned the significance of learning something every day. I've realized how education could save lives and help people find their true passions. In my family, it is customary to do the unexpected. For us, the unexpected came from having multiple careers and professions that wouldn't ideally connect. My grandfather was a forensic detective and a carpenter on my mother's side, while my grandma was a housewife and clothes seller (the original work from home). On my father's side, politics and medicine were the go-to careers. So, as it turns out, my parents were the same, and they both became knowledgeable on finances, technology, and customer service through their jobs growing up. My parents inspired all their children to follow their ambitions and never close themselves to one career. My older sister is a film director as well as a graphic designer. My brother is a chef with a specialty in nutrition, and my other sister is a music student, while I am studying religions, specifically Jewish religion. With all of our accomplishments, we are still developing our skills to incorporate them into our work. What's known as hobbies today could be a source of income tomorrow. My parents had to start over when we first moved to the United States. Without being able to validate their degrees and lack of knowledge in English, my parents had to seek a way to maintain their family afloat. While my dad worked low-paying jobs at Hobby Lobby, my mom took up her interest in baking and started a small catering business. As a result, my family could stay financially stable, and my dad could find a technology job he loved. I also want to develop the skills I believe I am good at and my passions. I am an educator at heart, so I hope to use the knowledge I gain to pass it on to others. I also would like to develop skills in areas I struggle with to make them my strengths. For example, beyond my career, I would also like to own my own business, so by educating myself on how to do that, I will be able to face my fears of failure and take action on the projects I want to accomplish. Finally, I don't plan to stop learning, whether through a college environment or not. I believe that a day we don't learn something new is a day we don't take advantage of.

Before I transferred to the University of Wisconsin, I was in Florida Gulf Coast University in Ft. Myers, Florida. In my time in FGCU, completing my General Education courses, I joined a group at my university called Peers Care. This campus organization dealt with educating students about general health and healthy lifestyle habits while living on campus. Our headquarters on campus actually served as a base for students who might need assistance in regards of emotional, physical, or sexual health. We also provided educational presentations on campus about topics relating to the eight dimensions of wellness which are mental, financial, spiritual, environmental, physical, intellectual, social, and vocational. Essentially, our group became advocates for in-campus health as well as safety and a resource center for students. During my time with Peers Care, I had to go attend multiple training sessions on the topics that we were going to present as well as weekly morning meetings. Fortunately, I wasn't working anywhere at the time, but I was still a full-time student. Finding time for school while still participating in Peers Care events was difficult at first. Thankfully, my team was very efficient and we managed to help each other out on and outside campus. We created study sessions on campus for those who shared similar classes and our office had a designated computer lab where students could work on assignments and projects if needed. Outside of campus, I developed a schedule that helped me maintain track of my assignments. Using Excel I developed a spreadsheet that allowed me to put all the deadlines of my classes in one place so I could see what was due and what I had to work on for long-term projects. I also designated days for what classes to work on. I also maintained a good communication with my professors. Not only did I have to manage Peers Care but I am Jewish so Fall terms usually tend to collide with religious holidays. By maintaining that connection with my professors I was able to manage my schedule and excel in my education.

Everyone should strive for a healthy life. However, not everyone has the same idea of a healthy lifestyle. Maybe because of circumstances out of their control or their beliefs of a healthy lifestyle comes out of destructive and harmful habits instilled by influential people in their own lives. A healthy life's fundamental goal is an optimum quality of life. So, what does it mean to have optimum quality of life by being healthy? It means that despite the circumstances a person may face, they will always work towards advocating for their health. That is always the first step to a healthy life. Whether a person is exercising, changing eating habits, or dealing with a mental health issue, they must become their most substantial advocate. In my personal life, I am not perfect, I sometimes eat more junk food than I should, or I try to find any excuse not to go work out. However, I have to work towards becoming better every day by making small changes and creating healthier habits, and modifying my mentality. Perspective is another factor that helps me maintain a healthy lifestyle. If I don't want it, I am not doing it. You have to want change to be able to accomplish it. Here is when mental health comes into play. It is so important to be kind and cheerful to yourself no matter what change is happening. I constantly have to have patience with myself because I am a perfectionist, and I like to have everything under control, but life is not perfect, and I need to learn how to let go and still love myself. If I don't like the weather to go work out, I try to find a fun exercise activity to do inside. If I eat something I shouldn't, I don't berate myself; I enjoy it and move on while keeping in mind that I shouldn't make this a habit. Just imagine how you would treat a child. You want them to be healthy, but not by making them hate themselves with every action they take. Lastly, I always remember to have fun. It is easy to get lost in the turmoil of the perfect body or the latest diet, but it is essential to remember why you started. I try to find enjoyable activities outside my day-to-day routines, such as skating, volleyball, or hiking. A healthy lifestyle is supposed to open doors for enjoyment and well-being, enjoying one's best life. Anybody who says the opposite is probably not doing it correctly.

"Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed." (Proverbs 19:17). These are the words that come into my head whenever I think about the act of "paying it forward." In a Jewish household, there are many lessons taught since childhood. For example, to say the Shema every morning and every night, prepare the house for the sabbath, kosher guides, rules, etc. However, an essential lesson taught across Judaism is the importance of Mitzvot, also known as "acts of kindness." For example, we are taught how our patriarch Abraham waited in front of his tent to assist any traveler that passed his way or how our matriarch Rivkah gave water to Abraham's servant and all his camels without hesitation. The beauty of these stories is that their protagonists weren't looking for repayment. Instead, they hoped to improve the world by inspiring others to follow their example and pay forward unto others the kindness our patriarchs and matriarchs gave to them. The act of "paying it forward" is not foreign to my own life. It is very present in my everyday living. I am originally from Venezuela, and about ten years ago, my family decided to move to the United States after the situation in our country worsened, especially for those in the Jewish community. We had nothing but the clothes in our bags and a small apartment with no furniture. We slept on the floor with my parent's sweaters as our blankets and had a box as our dinner table. Although we were happy to get out of the terrible situation in our country, my parents worried that happiness would not keep their two little girls fed and healthy. My mom decided to reach the local Jewish community and found Temple Shalom. We decided to go, which was the best decision ever made. Temple Shalom opened their arms to my family and ended up helping us in our beginnings in the United States. They provided us with food, clothes, furniture, and even toys during Hanukkah. Most importantly, they gave my sister and me full scholarships to their religious school and waived any fees pertaining to the preparation for our bat mitzvah. Our bat mitzvah tutor, of beloved memory, had signed a paper renouncing any payment despite having to give his time and patience to my sister and me during this process. Through the kindness of donors to the Temple, my family and I gained stability and a community we can now call family. Now, because of all the teaching given to me, I am paying it forward by educating the children and teens of the religious school. I currently work as a religious school teacher for 7th graders, and I am a private Hebrew tutor for students with special needs. I also donate 10% of my winnings to the charity by the name of my tutor for scholarships and materials for the religious school. I am now pursuing a Bachelor's Degree in Judaic Studies, hoping to help my community even more through education and philanthropy. Just as my ancestors did before me, I will make the world a better place by taking small actions to pay forward all the blessings I gave.

Life so far has taught me many lessons. However, my most important lesson still applies to me today, sitting here on my desk writing this essay. Patience is vital, simple, and short, but very wise. I am not patient by nature, and I hate to admit that. I usually want things done quickly and out of the way, and in a perfect world, everything would be like that. Life, however, takes our weaknesses to turn them into greatness. Despite what everyone may think, life is trying to make you a better person every day, and with me is trying to teach me to be patient. Throughout my life, I've learned that patience goes beyond finishing tasks. It also comes with being patient with the universe and everyone in it. In a time of turmoil such as this one, with pandemics, world conflicts, and politics surrounding our everyday lives, people have become used to moving fast in our world to survive and strive to be the best. We don't believe that it is our fault. It is human nature; even now, college students compete inside universities to become their best selves and much more in real-life. I sadly realized that I competed in life through my junior year of college when I realized that I wasn't following my passion just because I wanted to but because I felt the need to check off a mark that would somehow showcase me as better. That's why I decided to take a semester off to stop for a minute and realize that I was letting die the genuine part of me that had a purpose in life but was so rushed all the time I couldn't see it. Finding my passion took me a long time. I didn't have one of those flash moments when you suddenly just knew. On the contrary, it took time, tears, and multiple talks with my mother over coffee, that I hope to repay her soon. I had to remember multiple times to have patience. To clear off my head, I focused on m,y work at the religious school I was working on Sundays. It became my happy place where I shared stories and knowledge about history with my students. I soon realized that this is how my life should feel and not how it was. I could find joy in a profession despite the bad days and get up early for a job I loved. I searched for colleges offering Jewish Studies and found an online program. It contained all the topics I was fascinated by, and I knew that patience had worked, and I would be on my way to fulfilling my purpose and living my best life.

I don't consider myself a funny person. Surprisingly, I have always sucked at telling jokes. Honestly, believe me! I am so bad. I make dad jokes sound funnier. My type of humor is accidental (like everything else in my life, ask anyone), and it is a come-and-go situation, and it appears at the worst moments. For example, while my mom and I waited in a check-out line at HomeGoods on our weekly "we are just going to browse" shopping spree, a lady tried to pass by us. Before we could deck her across the face for trying to cut us, she said, "oh wait, I'm going with my mother!" I looked down and saw she is carrying a white-and-blue china vase. Instead of doing what a decent human being would do and just let her pass, I instantly point at the vase and say "oh! is she in there?" Now, there is a distinct crowd for these types of jokes and I can either be kicked out of HomeGoods or hopefully be recognized for my raw talent as a comedian and make it as the next big thing. However, neither of those happened and I just got an ugly stare and silent snickers from my mom. Either way a win-win. My mom is worse that I am, I guess that's where I got my humor from. Let me explain, my mom is adopted however she lost her adoptive parents at a very young age (so I guess a double orphan). She never looses an opportunity to make orphan jokes. One time we were at Costco and she called the free samples "family-sized" when I try to correct her she said that when you are an orphan everything becomes family-sized. I swear I almost left her at that Costco. Also, whenever she sees someone older than her she says she has to be nice because she doesn't know if those could possibly be her parents. Its sweet until she is referencing a sweet Asian couple in a Chinese restaurant and she is caucasian. I think accidental humor has made my mom and I a lot closer which I guess in itself its a beautiful thing. I know that when my mom passes away in a distant future I will be able to remember all those beautiful moments together.

I think one of the biggest motivators of my life has been my family. We are initially from Venezuela and came to the United States 10 years ago. As many people may know, my country of origin is going through a lot of turmoil in different aspects, from political to financial issues. My family was prosperous in our country as both my parents were business owners. However, we were affected by the situation in our country as we were harassed for not supporting the government and our religion (we are Jewish). My parents are my role models in life because, throughout the whole situation, they never stood down on their beliefs and continuously supported causes for the betterment of our country. I learned never to be ashamed of who I was and always stand up for those who needed it most. To use my resources, even if they were just my words, to educate and help our community and society. When we moved to the United States, my sister and I had to adapt to a new education system. Although we could have taken the easy road and focused on passing our grades, our parents pushed us to always excel in everything we did. I realized that now that I was in a new country, I was open to a unique opportunity to let my purpose flow. I knew I always wanted to help people, so I initially went into medicine when I first applied to college. However, I realized that my true passion lay in the Jewish community. I had fallen in love with my part-time job at the religious school and wished to connect more with that beautiful part of myself. I wanted to work to promote the same community values of pride and service my parents had instilled in me. My family always encouraged the work in the community, and through my synagogue I was able to connect with multiple organizations that inspired me in my career. I want to become a Jewish educator and, hopefully, in the future, a certified Rabbi so that I can bring more resources and education into the Jewish community and beyond to other communities in need.

I believe the worse part of dealing with mental health issues is that you never really know when or how they will affect you. Depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues can go on for years without being acknowledged or diagnosed. Yet, they can make you change your perspective about yourself or others around you. They can detain you from achieving your goals or maintaining a healthy social life. It can even make you question your most profound beliefs. I wish I could explain this from an outside perspective, but I would be lying. I didn't recognize how much my mental health had been affected growing up till I was in my junior year of college when I had a mental breakdown and had to take a semester off. In many Hispanic families, such as mine, mental health wasn't a pressing issue that had to be solved but more like the elephant in the room that no one wanted to mention. My parents dealt with constant trauma from their childhood and even young adulthood that they hadn't processed. Despite being loving parents, I started to notice the patterns of denied trauma growing up. My parents could never relate to a normal childhood which made it difficult to connect with their children. One time, my mother got angry at me for putting a plate in the wrong spot. She screamed, "when I was growing up, my mother would only say things once, and I better learn, or she would smack me hard the next time!" Although it is normalized in Hispanic culture to spank your kids as a form of discipline (which I endured as well), there was a point where discipline became emotional and physical abuse, and my parents called it tough love. I learned that tough love leads to actions of fear and stress in a child, which can follow them through adulthood in acts of perfectionism, anxiety, or just plain fear of messing up. My mental health issues didn't start till I was in high school. However, I never noticed them because I never acknowledged my feelings and thought I was overdramatic. It began as a small voice in my head that whispered, "you are not good enough." I was able to keep it quiet for a while, thanks to my family, friends, and most importantly, my relationship with God. I was always able to find a positive outlet to feel better about myself or any situation surrounding me. After graduating high school, I was super excited to start college. I went to orientation with my parents, and we were choosing our schedules at one point. My schedule wasn't coordinating the way I wanted it, and I asked the counselor if I could do it later with the help of my parents. The counselor told me I couldn't leave the room till I had a schedule set up. I could feel myself spiraling in the chair as I felt myself growing colder and the voices in my head getting louder. They screamed now, saying, "why didn't you do this earlier!" or "why do you need your parents for everything, you big baby!" and even, "if we had our car, we wouldn't need to be dropped off loser!" I remember doing a schedule as fast as possible, and I ran out of the room into a bathroom, sat on the floor, and cried my eyes out. My mind was spinning, and I realized I had had my first anxiety attack. Unfortunately, that would only be the first of many to come. I was never taught how to manage stress, and I had always felt in control of every situation. However, that is not how life works because it throws you off guard, and you can't be in control of everything all the time. I learned throughout college to accept help where I needed it, but I was still healing from all the wounds and learning to cope with this new side. I started talking more about mental health in my home, and my parents felt uncomfortable at first but soon became happy and even relieved at the acknowledgment of mental health. Thankfully, because of this, my parents noticed that something was not right in my junior year. Amid my studies and work, my mental health declined, and I became a pessimist person. I felt so alone I even started to question my faith, believing that God was punishing me or he had abandoned me. Finally, my parents advised me to take a break and seek help for my mental health after I collapsed a month before finals. During my recovery, I realized that I had lost so much of myself because of the mental health issues that I did not recognize myself in the mirror. I had forgotten my passions and hobbies and pushed away all the people I cared about. I took some time to regain my self-worth. I started reading self-help books, eating better, working out, picking up playing music, and even taking time to pray. It wasn't easy, some days, I just wanted to stay in bed and not go outside or interact with anybody, but I had to push myself. I didn't want to lose myself, and I didn't want to give up. I had to remember all the love that surrounded me and the goals I was accomplishing. I learned that I had to love myself so that the universe could love me too. It became a goal for me to help others who may be in the same situation find themselves again through the things they love most because I could understand how lonely and empty one could feel even if surrounded by many people. Finally, I was able to pick myself back up again, which made me stronger and ready to move on to better things.

My favorite book is The Three Musketeers by Alexander Dumas. In the story of D'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, these unforgettable characters unite to save the honor of the King and Queen of France. I love stories that teach us lessons that can be applied in real life. D'artagnan learns that although he wishes to be a musketeer, he must first learn to work with others. It is difficult for him as his pride gets the better of him, and it ends up getting him into trouble a lot. I could relate to D'artagnan as a first-generation student in my home. My parents and I are immigrants, which means that my parents don't have that much knowledge of the education system in the United States. This issue led me to push harder to know more because I felt like no one could help me and that I could only help myself. For a while, it went well as I was the most prepared student in school, but I realized when I got to college that my mental health was deteriorating. I held on too hard and wouldn't let anybody help me, not even my professors. It all came down to my fear of being a failure, and the same thing goes for D'artagnan. He became so obsessed with being the best Musketeer that he acted radically. However, by learning to let go and ask for help from his friends, they were victorious by following the famous saying, "all for one, and one for all!"

"Investing in yourself is never a waste." My mother said this because I wasn't sure if I should use my money to pay for tutoring services. I had always had a problematic relationship with money. As an immigrant, it was scary for me to feel like I was going to run out of it one day, and something terrible would happen. This fear only made me stop myself from growing and living. I had to learn that God had provided everything for my family and me so far, and he was opening all the doors for my future as long as I used what he gave me wisely. My mom said that every time a person uses their spare money and wastes it instead of using it to better themselves on their health or education, they lose more than they gained. This advice made me realize that I could have a better relationship with money and make it work for me, and help me advance to my future objectives and projects. Put my faith in God, and I study how to use my money wisely every day. I search for topics that will enhance my knowledge of the world around me, apply them to my life, and try to pass them on to others in need. I learn and invest in my education without worry because as I understand more, I am open to new opportunities which will bring me and my family prosperity.

As a person who is fascinated with every aspect of history and the people that made their mark on it, there are multiple people whom I admire. However, I've been fascinated by the story of Albert Einstein. He created the theory of relativity, which made us question time itself. However, my favorite thing about Albert Einstein is his humanity. What made me love his story was realizing that the brightest mind we've come to know was no more than a simple man in his ways. As a college student, I struggled to find my way to the major I was fully passionate about. Once I saw it, I was worried that all the time I had been in previous majors, I had just wasted my time and wouldn't be able to apply any knowledge to my current major. Then, one day, I listened to a historical podcast called "Historical Figures." In this podcast, one of the first episodes talked about the life of Albert Einstein. I knew relatively little about Albert Einstein, but I had always admired the little bits I knew. When Albert Einstein was young, he wanted to go to the Federal Polytechnic Schol in Zurich. In my view, he had everything to win. Who wouldn't want the great Albert Einstein in their school? But then I realized he wasn't the great Albert Einstein. At that time, he was just Albert, a regular student, who passed all his science requirements, but was rejected of the polytechnic because of his bad grades in linguistics. I felt connected to his story and realized that I was still in my journey, and even the things that I believed were unnecessary were opening doors to my future where maybe one day I'll be studied as a person who marked history.