The fields of Maryland stretch farther than any pastures I have seen, yet I cannot help but miss the wall-to-wall urban sprawl of Mandaluyong City. Up until my Junior year, I had been living in the Philippines with my mom and two brothers. Suddenly, I found myself frantically packing fifteen years of my life into two suitcases and a carry-on bag. The night before we left, my mom said to me, “when we get there, don’t forget how you were raised.” I was raised to be hardworking. My single mother raised three children with two jobs, my grandfather started his own business, and multiple cousins were going out of the country to study. In my first two years of high school, I maintained my status as an Academic Awardee with a GPA equivalent to a 4.0, and involved myself in school production teams which planned and executed events. In my Sophomore year, I was a graphic artist for the school spirit event “Carpe Diem,” and for “Iskrambol Rambol,” a small business initiative led by students, which donated proceeds to Tahanan Sta. Lusia (a crisis intervention and recovery center for young girls). I was also a writer and program member for “ACP: Awaken,” a seminar about historical revisionism and the effects of Martial Law in the Philippines. I was raised to be resilient. I wouldn’t have chosen to be born anywhere else, but the Philippines is still a developing country sitting in a typhoon hot seat. It can be uncomfortable to live under corrupt governance and poor urban planning–but we play with the cards we were dealt and find a way to enjoy it. It was difficult to find a place among kids that have known each other since elementary school–to speak their language yet feel so frustratingly foreign. With encouragement from loved ones back home, I maintained a rhythm of academic rigor by taking three AP classes in my Junior year then moving up to five this year. I finished 11th grade with a 4.45 GPA, membership in the National Honor Society, and a position in the Student Council as Social Media Manager. I was raised to be compassionate. My mom always says “dapat marunong makisama ka,” which I interpret to mean “you need to know how to empathize.” In this world, we are never alone and thus obligated to care for each other. I saw it in the way passengers passed the jeepney fare up to the driver without taking a single piso, and in the way neighbors gathered to help when a tree fell down on our roof after a storm. Back home, I sold jewelry for the charity “For Our Farmers PH” and later did the same to raise money for the school’s Center for Visual Arts. Over the last year and a half, I have completed over forty hours of community service under the National Honor Society; I’ve sold tickets, babysat, face painted, set and cleaned up high school and middle school events. In the Student Council, my position entails promoting and organizing fundraisers for charities like the B+ foundation and school events like Spirit Week and Homecoming. I know that there is an entire world beyond Rising Sun, and a diaspora of Filipino-Americans that have started over from scratch like I did. Someday, I hope to connect the idea of pakikisama–or empathizing–to a larger context through a career in the Public Health sciences. By analyzing the patterns of infectious diseases and hopefully contributing to their treatment and prevention, I can be a helpful citizen of the global community.