I've had a passion for journalism since middle school. Through classes and extracurriculars, I've gained experience and hard skills that have prepared me for university. I received assured enrollment to the UNC Hussman School of Journalism and Media, which will allow me to continue my fervor for Journalism. I intend to double major in college. Not only will I major in public policy, but I will also major in Journalism and Media with a concentration in advertising and public relations. I want to pursue a career in political journalism and build a platform that lets me leverage my strengths to make an impact. Suzanne Collins, author of the dystopian saga "The Hunger Games," is known for writing only when she has something to comment on. Her latest release serves as commentary on desensitizing propaganda, implicit submission, and censorship. Finishing this book, I was captivated by how Collins used her art form to promote a message; Collins sparked my devotion for politics. I want to create a platform and utilize it for good, to report and spread awareness about issues in our world, similar to how Collins uses her platform as an author to comment on our country. Microphone in hand, sore feet, and the truth; these are three things I will have in seven years outside of the building of Congress in Washington, D.C. In seven years, I see myself establishing my platform as a political journalist. As of April 17, 2026, I have received $12,000.00 in scholarships. I was awarded $2,000.00 from the Person County Education Foundation and $10,000.00 from the State Employees’ Credit Union “People Helping People” scholarship. I received no financial aid from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (via FAFSA), except for an offered loan. I am applying to this scholarship and others, in hope of paying off my tuition without taking out many student loans, so I can focus on planning my future. I seek financial assistance so that I can prioritize my future goals after graduation. Without financial assistance, there is a possibility that I will take out student loans. I would prefer not to take out student loans so I can focus on achieving my goals, not paying debts. Being loan-free would allow me to focus on saving for a down payment on a house, invest early in my retirement, and donate to meaningful causes. I typically try to remain humble, but I always express pride in my natural tendency to lead. Throughout high school, I’ve been involved not only in rigorous academics but also in athletics, clubs, and the Roxboro Community. I have served as an officer in the high school student council for four consecutive years (two years as vice president and two years as president). As president of the student council, I made it my goal to foster student engagement and participation on campus; I wanted school to be something students looked forward to attending. Alongside fellow members of the council, we introduced the homecoming dance and pep rallies, fundraising events such as Valentine’s Candy Grams, and free schoolwide activities such as our annual week-long easter egg hunt. The student council has also raised funds to provide scholarships to graduating seniors within the club and has donated clothing, food, and other necessities to the Christian Help Center. I was a leader outside of clubs as well, serving as co-captain in both Cross Country and Tennis. While I do not excel in athletic ability, my tenacity and determination to improve have skyrocketed. I no longer let a bad run or a grueling tennis match weigh me down; I use it as fuel to grow stronger.

Out of the 400 high school students at Roxboro Community School, I’m one of the few who is openly gay. Being openly gay at my predominantly heterosexual high school makes it easy to succumb to isolation. Even though there are other gay students here, none of us are connected through our community. We’re secluded from each other, as we shed our natural skin to attempt to code-switch to an “acceptable” persona. Being an open gay teenager in a small southern town and expressing my identity has led to years of bullying. I’ve been verbally harassed and threatened. With the constant bullying, size-ups in the hallway, and avoidance in the men’s bathroom, I felt like a beacon in the fog. Living in fear of judgment because of my identity has worsened my self-esteem issues, making it hard to appreciate life and be myself. Throughout high school, I’ve yearned for outlets to express myself, my passions, and my talents without fear of judgment or mockery. One outlet that never failed me was writing. I started just writing little poems and stream-of-consciousness pieces in my notes app. I wrote short stories and submitted pieces to a local journal. At the same time, I was picking up the basics of journalistic writing in my Communications I class. I quickly grew a fervor for editorial and column writing, specifically for music. I avoided talking about music with my peers or in public, as my music taste is stereotyped with my sexuality, and neither of those is popular at my small school; I didn’t vocalize my interests with peers out of fear. Writing, however, gave me the opposite of fear, so I started writing synopses and editorials about music and pop culture. I can’t be scared of the reception of my opinions if they’re read by strangers. Publishing my writing gave me new confidence. The more I wrote about music, the more my writing branched out. I delved more into the specifics of the music industry and other aspects of pop culture. I have now been a writer for the local newspaper for four years, which has helped me grow and build a foundation of skills and experience as a writer. I want to pursue a career in political journalism and build a platform that lets me leverage my strengths to make an impact. I want to create a platform and utilize it for good, to report and spread awareness about issues in our world. I also want to be a voice for youth- especially those who struggle with their identity- or a voice for those who don’t have a voice or representation. I am unsure of what specific career I want, but I know that whatever I decide to do, I will accomplish my goal of informing the public and be an instrument for change using my past experiences and upcoming opportunities at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Choosing favorites wasn’t tough for me as a child; I could tell you my favorite Jedi from Star Wars, or which Pixar film piqued my interest the most. However, I always struggled with declaring my favorite subject. It took me thirteen years to decide that it was math. Coincidentally, around the same time, I began to detest numbers. I grew fond of a subject full of something I loathed. I effortlessly solved algebraic equations, yet looking down at the scale or sharing grades with peers deepened my animosity for numbers. Not only did my resentment for numbers emerge in the eighth grade, but so too did my yearning for academic validation. Before the eighth grade, I was an above-average A-honor-roll student, yet I lacked productivity. Eighth grade was the year my social environment flipped. I went from hanging with underachievers to finding myself at a lunch table of four girls, all known for being perfect students and versatile athletes. I viewed them like the cursed King Midas; similar to how everything he touched turned to gold, everything these girls did was unblemished. The closer I got to them, the more I adopted their habits. I started studying, something unprecedented for me. As my competence increased, my stress levels skyrocketed on an exponential curve. The primary reason I hated numbers was that they held disparate values in my life. For instance, fifteen-year-old me was drowning in my course load and to-do list, which annoyingly threw numbers in my face–numbers that were inconsistent. Acing a quiz in APUSH made my day, but if my mile time was too high at practice, I went to bed frustrated. A lower number on the scale would put a smile on my face, but if a test score were lower than my classmates, I would spend hours dwelling in comparison. My involvement doubled as a junior, with an even more demanding schedule. Numbers holistically nauseated me. Thinking about track times, how much homework I had, and upcoming shifts at work, it was too much for me to handle alone. Eventually, I got the courage to connect with a therapist, while also getting diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Luckily, these diagnoses were the catalyst I needed to embrace the numbers around me. With my newfound support system, I started using numbers as encouragement. Instead of a bad run enraging me, I now use it as fuel to work on my endurance. In my first year of cross country, I was the worst runner on the team. A year later, I qualified for the regional race and shaved ten minutes off my 5K time. I run at least three times a week and strive for healthy improvement. If I didn’t earn a perfect score on a test, I’d use those mistakes as tools to learn more about the subject. I’d use those missing thirteen points and ask my teacher to guide me through my errors, so I wouldn’t make them again. I learned that numbers exist in the real world, not to push you down, but to uplift you. I always clap at the finish line of a race, even if I didn’t set a new personal record, and I always express pride in the tenacity of my tennis teammates. Capitalizing on numbers is what changed my mindset. Unlike fifteen-year-old me, who viewed life as an unsolvable algebraic equation, I now perceive my life as a function with various inputs and outputs. Whether my input is as a journalist who provides the public with vital information, as a psychologist who eases the burden of mental illness for young people, or as a teacher who ensures his students put forth their best effort, I know my output will equate to something of high value.