What really speaks to me about Jack Terry’s story is his ability to persevere through unimaginable loss. Losing his family, home, and everything familiar—alongside the trauma of surviving three Nazi concentration camps—he faced setbacks I can hardly fathom. It’s clear that Jack not only worked hard but likely harder than his classmates to achieve all that he did, especially having to learn a new language and catch up on the schooling he missed. His drive and lack of self-pity allowed him to accomplish great things and build the life he deserved, and he inspires me to do the same as I navigate my own adversities. Growing up in a single-mother household, I watched my mom work multiple jobs and side hustles to keep my brother and me fed and housed. When my brother and I were able to work, our family’s finances improved. But last year, my mom was attacked and robbed by a gang. I had to drive her to the ER, bloodied and bruised, and for the first time, I fully realized I could lose her. On top of that, replacing her stolen belongings and covering medical bills put my family back into the financial rut we had fought so hard to escape. We worked hard to recover—only for her to be diagnosed with breast cancer six months later. The fear of losing her consumed me, but so did something else: comparison. Attending school in a wealthy district, I was surrounded by students whose financial struggles I couldn’t relate to. I kept thinking that if my friends’ moms had cancer, they wouldn’t have to worry about how they’d afford college or rent. I often cried about how unfair the world felt to me, how the people around me seemed to have so much less on their plates. Through all of this, I learned that focusing on my disadvantages only made things harder. Dwelling on the unfairness of my situation didn’t change it—it just kept me stuck. Self-pity wasn’t just unproductive; it was a barrier that blocked me from gratitude and faith. Jack Terry faced unthinkable loss, yet he didn’t let his suffering define him. He didn’t just rebuild his life—he dedicated it to serving others, from his time in the U.S. Army to the countless students he inspired, proving that hardship doesn’t have to hold you back, and often can be the motivator to keep going. Next year, I will pursue a business degree in arts and entertainment management. I believe music and storytelling are powerful tools for connection and healing. Just as Jack used his experiences to uplift others, I want to use my career to highlight underrepresented musicians and create spaces where people feel seen and supported. Whether it’s amplifying artists with important stories, organizing benefit concerts for causes I care about, or mentoring young creatives from difficult backgrounds, I want to make an impact. Everyone faces hardships, but what we choose to do with them is what makes an inspiring story. Jack Terry lived that truth, I am on the journey of doing the same, and I hope to help others do so in the future.

Music has affected my life during my high school years in profound ways. Having bought my first guitar at age 10 with my own money, I have been strumming, noodling, and playing my heart out ever since. With the stress of schoolwork and my jobs outside of school, it is far too easy for me to fall into an anxiety hole. And with my mom's cancer diagnosis and other ever-changing, life-altering experiences alongside AP courses and the critical development that takes place between ages 14-18, music has been my constant. Each time something negative has arisen, I’ve found comfort in knowing that no matter what, I can always count on my visibly well-loved guitar to give me a moment of peace. Expressing my feelings through self-made melodies and rhythms is what I owe my ability to persevere and stay positive in life, something that has been detrimental in high school. Beyond guitar, I taught myself to create and produce beats—something I expected to be easy, but ended up requiring multiple lessons from Professor YouTube. I found that while listening to my end results brings me limitless joy and drowns out the noise of the outside world, the process of creating has impacted me even more. The struggle of not liking a project I’ve spent hours working on has taught me about who I am as a person and creative, as well as what works and what doesn’t. If I hadn’t learned how to flow through the struggle of music, I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish what I have in every other area of my life. Because music is my passion, there was never a thought in my mind to give up when my melodies didn’t sound right or when my self-taught music theory knowledge didn’t feel adequate. It was something I knew I loved pursuing. The skill of learning to embrace struggle, and the lessons that come with it, is something I’ve learned that has greatly shaped my high school career. While I can’t say that statistics or personal finance management are passions of mine, being able to learn those lessons through something I care about has allowed me to apply what I’ve learned to my classes and maintain all A’s. Music is the light of my life, connecting and saving me through so many dark times, both before and during high school. What I have learned through listening to the creations of others and the process of creating my own sounds are things I could never express enough gratitude for. Music has also been an essential connector for my mom and me over the past four years. During her recovery from a bilateral mastectomy, carrying my guitar into her bed and expressing my passion for music helped bring joy into her life. The happiness and positivity it gave her reflected back onto me, making her cancer journey seem less daunting and the light at the end of the tunnel clearer. From giving me the skills to persevere through struggle to the comfort of knowing I have a constant source of peace in my life—when asked how music has affected me during my high school years, it has made it.