Independence is all I've ever wanted, and on my life's first truly independent day, I wanted to kill myself. By my senior year of high school, my mind seemed as made up as possible on a future career: I wanted to be a doctor. I grew up having registered nurses for parents, and they always encouraged me to go above and beyond and to be the breadwinner of the family. Naturally, the only way to do both at once was to be a doctor. I decided to attend Heidelberg University as a pre-medical student, and August 15th, 2021 was my first full day on-campus, away from my parents, my family, my then-girlfriend (now-wife), and all that I had ever known. I happened to be in a room all by myself, and I felt more isolated and alone than I ever had before. By the night's end, I was crying myself to sleep, contemplating if living life was truly worthwhile if I was going to feel this way for forever. By the school year's end, I had already planned to move back home, to transfer to Ashland University, and to switch majors to make sure I was doing something that made me happy: music education. I wanted to give others the joy that I had gotten from my previous music teachers. While school gave me the desire to give others said joy, home life sucked that joy away from me. Upon moving back, I felt an increasingly intense level of disrespect and unnecessary control from my parents, and that affected me mentally to the point where I once again considered ending it all. I reached a boiling point and moved out of their house in late September, which eventually resulted in me moving into an apartment with my now-wife in early November. These experiences with mental health didn't exactly influence my religious beliefs. I believed in God then and I believe in God now. However, they did influence my belief in the importance of prioritizing my own happiness. Oftentimes, even if only subtly, I would make decisions for my life that I thought would satisfy others. And I would be so drained because of said decisions. But the first decision I ever made truly for myself, moving out, brought me so much joy and mental relief. My relationships with my family completely ended, with the notable exceptions of my siblings, my now-wife, and her side of the family. Everyone else in my family supported my parents for treating me in the manner that they continuously treated me, and I felt no need to continue any relationships with any of them, as it would be essentially meaningless. My career aspiration was initially to become a doctor. My initial contemplation of suicide, and the year thereafter, led me to consider music education as my desired career. The lack of money after moving out, however, has now led me to a cheaper, accelerated, online music production program.

My mother, who I had only known as dependable up until this point, went to prison in 2016 on a drug possession charge and remained incarcerated for the better part of a year. Within that near year, my first major realization was that lying could be a form of protection. I was always instructed to tell any friends I had over that my mother was "out of town," to not worry them about her incarceration. Looking back, this was a way to protect the whole family from worry and judgment, myself included. I've learned that, in certain situations, sweet little lies can be beneficial. (In no way is this my way of saying that everyone should always lie in every situations. I've just recognized its benefits at certain times.) It impacted my life more so than I would have realized at the time. That was the beginning of my loss of respect for my mother, whose dependence on alcohol and/or sleeping pills since returning from her incarceration drove me to move out and cut off all contact with her. My academic and career ambitions have changed greatly throughout the years, but I was finally confident that I wanted to be a choir director. The incarceration itself did not exactly impact my academic and career ambitions, but the aftermath that resulted in me moving out also resulted in rent, bills, and other expenses becoming too much for me to bear, so I withdrew from the school at which I was taking music education courses. I've instead opted for a cheaper option, which is an online music production bachelor's program. It's still related to music, as it was before, but the forced moving-out has forced me to reconsider specifically what career into which I shall go. Again, it's not directly related to incarceration, but the incarceration led to increased dependence on alcohol, which led to me moving out, which led to switching schools and switching programs entirely.

My mother once had an addiction to hard drugs that she has thankfully kicked by now, though she has had some scale of an addiction to alcohol for what I'd assume to be most of my life, if not all of my life. (I'm never going to specify her name, but if I happen to be a Finalist for this scholarship, you can probably figure it out with a tiny little Internet digging session.) She happened to go to jail for her previous drug addiction, which was kickstarted by her alcohol addiction, in 2016. When she got out, everything seemed to be going well, but, over time, she slowly leaned more and more into alcohol consumption. She would combine sleeping medication with alcohol - sometimes accidentally, I'm sure, but sometimes consciously - and become delirious, showing her delirium via text messages to my father, siblings, and myself, and sometimes via public posts on Facebook. This built over time, until, finally, I moved out of my parents' house in mid-late September 2022. Living under the constant risk of a delirious outburst of sorts became too much for me, as did criticism of spending time at work and/or with my then-girlfriend and then-fiancée, who is now my wife. (My wife and I married in mid-January 2023, after moving in together in early November 2022.) As it applies to my beliefs, nothing much has greatly changed due to my experience with addiction. I believed in God before and I believe in God now. The one major change is that I feel less pressure, and therefore, less desire, to attend church consistently, or... at all. My lack of attendance doesn't change my beliefs, but I feel less pressured to do what many church-goers likely do, in the sense of "going through the motions." (I'm not saying every church-goer does this, but realistically, I'm sure at least one church-goer at almost every church in the world does this.) The aftermath of my experience with addiction has essentially split any relationship I've ever had with any family member, with the notable exceptions of my sister and brother, both of which are older than me. And honestly, I'm completely okay with splitting relationships with family, especially because the last interaction I had with any of them was my aunt, uncle and grandmother trying to convince me that cutting off these relationships and "burning these bridges" was an obviously-wrong decision. They know what she's been addicted to, they always have, and yet, they saw me as the one in the wrong. I know I wasn't. I know I never have been. I also have a much closer and stronger relationship with my now-wife, as we don't have to worry about living separately and me not being prevented from seeing her for whatever reason. (In case it's important to know, as of mid-January 2023, I am 20 years old, meaning I was 19 years old and being prevented from seeing who I wanted to see. Makes sense, right?) I moved back home to attend a university much closer to my family's house, and I had the desire of majoring in music education. When I moved out of my parents' house, I was in the middle of my first semester at this new school, and the costs of school and utilities, among other costs, became too much. I withdrew and am now preparing to attend an online university for a music production degree. It's cheaper than the music education program, and it's an abbreviated program, which should mean that I'll graduate with my bachelor's degree within ~2 years of enrolling.

The greatest social issue that I plan to address in my adult life is discrimination. As an African American, throughout my life, I have faced some sort of discrimination, whether that be explicit discrimination - think people calling me the N-word, laughing at me because I'm different, etc. - or implicit discrimination - my school district hiring, to my knowledge, no black teachers from when I was in kindergarten to when I graduated high school. I haven't always felt at home, no matter where I've gone, and it's because of something that is not, and has never been, my fault. I'm also an LGBTQIAP+ ally, and I know that, all too often throughout American and world history, that group of people has felt discrimination simply based on who they love. No one can truly control who they do and don't love, and it's widely unfair that people often lose out on opportunities to do what they want because of who they love. I aspire to be a music producer. I don't want to produce only for big-name artists in the music industry, but also for people that regularly wouldn't get to make music because of finances, discrimination, or other reasons. As of January 12th, 2023, 81 artists are represented on the Billboard Hot 100, the chart that shows the 100 most popular songs in America at any given time. Of those 81 artists, 30 (37%) do not identify as male, 25 (30.9%) have African descent and/or are African American, and only 13 (16.1%) are members of the LGBTQIAP+ community. While these numbers fluctuate to some degree, one could also assume they stay relatively constant. (For reference, as of January 21st, 2023, compared to the previous week, the non-male percentage has decreased by 1.4%, the African descent or African American percentage has increased by 0.1%, and the LGBTQIAP+ percentage has decreased by 1.2%.) Regardless of the current consistency of these percentages, I'd like to contribute to the consistent future increase of the percentages. I'd imagine that non-male, black, and LGBTQIAP+ songwriters have written countless songs about the hardships that they experience daily. However, the songs we've heard that describe such topics are likely just scratching the surface of the number of songs that have been written about such topics. I want to be a part of a movement that digs deeper to find these written-but-not-released songs, not for the sake of money, but for the sake of allowing these likely-wonderful songwriters to have what they deserve: a chance to release their song(s).

I've had so many different educational goals that, occasionally, I wonder if the one on which I'm currently set is what I truly want, and what will truly make me happy. My mother was incarcerated for just under a year when I was still in middle school, and her incarceration had indirectly but subtly made me doubt whether or not I wanted further education. Upon graduating high school in 2021, I decided to attend Heidelberg University to pursue a degree in biology and biochemistry, on a pre-medical track. I wanted to be a doctor, which I felt was my calling because so many around me were nurses, and I had "go above and beyond" engrained in my mind essentially since birth. Throughout the year of courses at Heidelberg, however, I felt incredibly homesick, and I felt extreme unhappiness every day, to the point of occasional suicidal thoughts. To try and combat this, I moved back home, transferred to Ashland University (which is in my hometown), and switched to a music education major. Amid all the negatives that my year at Heidelberg brought me, one great positive was re-igniting my love for music. However, personal issues that culminated in me moving out of my parents' house mid-semester somewhat worsened my financial security, and I withdrew from Ashland University after just one semester. I found a cheaper, more flexible alternative in Full Sail University's online music production program, which I will be starting on April 3rd, 2023. As previously stated, the biggest obstacles I've experienced and attempted to overcome are mental struggles and relative financial insecurity. I'd imagine the mental struggles will get in the way any time I have even the slightest of doubts about whether or not this music production route is truly what I'm going to be happy pursuing, or any time I'm remotely stressed or unhappy, whether or not that relates to school. The financial struggles will come into play any time I have to make any sort of payment toward school and/or student loans, which may mentally slow me down more so than it would affect my progress within classes. However, I have a lovely wife that's been beyond helpful with both my mental and financial struggles, as well as every other struggle I've encountered. I'm not going to fully rely on her, but having her in my corner for all my life will be beyond helpful.

I had the most momentous day of my life, and the next day, I wanted to kill myself. At some point in the second half of my senior year of high school (2020-21), I applied to Heidelberg University as a biology and biochemistry double major. My parents both had registered nursing degrees, and, mostly due to their direct and indirect influences, I wanted to be a doctor. I saw what they did, and I just wanted to do the same thing, only better, because I was on the honor roll and enjoyed STEM-related subjects and had it in my mind that I could and would do better. I was accepted to Heidelberg less than a week after the completion of my application. This was a college that I had been looking at for years, and I got in. The summer breezed by, and then came August 14th, 2021: move-in day. My father, brother, then-girlfriend (who is now my fiancée), and her brother all came to help me unpack everything that I had spent the entire summer collecting for my dorm room. Leaving was difficult for everyone that helped me unpack, especially my now-fiancée, but I tried to assure them all that I would be okay, and that it wouldn't be long before I saw them again. On the morning of August 15th, my first full day on Heidelberg's campus, we had some sort of activity to engage first-year students and acclimate them to campus and, so to speak, to one another. I was able to engage with one person, who I texted later that day, but she never texted me back. She was a soccer player, and it's not like I wanted anyone to replace my now-fiancée, who I continuously texted. The thought of having someone to talk to who was going through the same things as I was just felt nice and that was taken away instantly. After I got back to my dorm room, which was in the mid-afternoon, I had nothing to do, so I texted and called my now-fiancée until she went to bed, which was at around 9 at night. At that point, I had no one to text, no one to call, no one to talk to whatsoever, and I was in a room by myself, in the dark, & an hour away from anyone I truly knew. For the first time... maybe ever, I was utterly, truly alone. And I began to bawl because no part of me wanted this isolation, and yet I knew that this is how it would be for nine months. I stared at the ceiling intently, wondering... how to tie a noose, how to attach said noose to said ceiling, and how long it would take for anyone to find me. That made me bawl more, and it made me feel numb, in a way. Some people very close to me don't believe in God, which is perfectly acceptable, because I believe that no one should ever force their beliefs onto another person. However, I do believe in God, and the idea that someone or something is watching over and protecting me is so comforting to me. I believe that He's a part of the reason I'm still alive. Another reason, possibly the main reason in terms of immediate reaction, is my relationship with my now-fiancée. We had only been dating for two and a half months at the time, and yet, she was still such a comfort to me, and I appreciated it immeasurably. On that first full day following my move-in, she sent me a video that essentially said that no matter how lonely I may be, and no matter how few friends I may find at Heidelberg, I'd always have her love and support. That video saved me, as did the idea of a life with her. And hey, look at us now. We'll be married soon enough. That day -- which was, mind you, before classes even started -- was also the beginning of the end of my passion to be a doctor. From then on, my mind associated Heidelberg with my pre-med passions, and when I lost my mind due to being far away from home, I started to lose my medical passion, unbeknownst to me. Throughout that year, I found myself loving two things consistently: the acapella group in which I took part and the university choir. I realized that music was my true passion, and I now attend Ashland University, which is literally in my home city, as a vocal music education major. The most momentous day of my life led to the worst day of my life, which, in turn, led me to some of the best days of my life.

I have never had a full-time African-American teacher. I went to the same school district for 13 years, I went to Heidelberg University for one year, and I'm now attending Ashland University, and in those 14+ years of schooling, I have never had an African-American teacher. (From what I can remember, in fact, nearly every teacher I've ever had was Caucasian.) The only teacher I ever had that gave me a sense of belonging, despite the fact that he was white, was my choir director. He had the main choir, as well as separate ensembles for other singers interested in singing a capella music, and being in said separate ensembles was crucial to developing my love for music. There is one particular instance, however, that more greatly affected me than anything else my choir director ever did. I had a very emotional connection to a song, based on a falling-out that had occurred between me and a close friend of mine, and my first reaction was to arrange said song for my full choir to sing. The two major problems with this idea, however, were that I had never arranged anything before, and the COVID-19 pandemic continuously made me question if we'd even get a chance to perform in the 2020-2021 school year, which was my senior year. Just in case we were to get a May concert, I emailed my choir director with this idea in January 2021, and he welcomed it with open arms. We were able to put on a concert in May 2021, and not only did we perform the song I arranged, but I had a solo in it. I plan to welcome other students' ideas with open arms, just as my idea was welcomed. Regardless of students' arranging abilities, I plan to give them more opportunities to sing, as I know how smaller ensembles can be a great influence on a student's love of music. I also plan to embrace, but not overstate, my race. I know how comforted I would've felt, especially in my early years of schooling, to go into a classroom and realize the teacher looked more like me than other students, most of which were also white. I'm likely never going to outright mention that I'm African-American (or, more truly, mixed-race), but if I can give even one student the comfort of having a teacher that looks like them, I'd consider that a win of sorts.