My dream career is to be a concept artist because I loved creating characters growing up and could expand that into areas and other things of need be. I loved detailing things throughout my childhood and I could be meticulous so I feel that I would be a good fit for the job. However I wish to get a degree in illustration not only for that, but because it is linked to so many other artistic careers that I would also be content with having. My goal is to work under a company so that I can have a steady income and not be a “starving artist”. I have won a silver key in scholastic arts for my work titled “Delicate” in 2021. I have won a silver key in scholastic arts for my senior portfolio called “Family Portraits” and a silver key award for a piece within it titled “Classical” in 2024. I had won in a WonderWorks art contest to have my piece displayed in the museum in Syracuse back in 2022. Such achievements makes me feel more confident in my abilities as an artist. With this scholarship, if my tuition is paid off when I receive it, I’ll first use it to buy more art materials for school and then the art materials I want or keep it if something were to pop up. Being an illustrator truly is my dream.

In life, suffering is inevitable. It’s an unfortunate reality that the world is full of pain and negativity. We as humans however can do our best by making the best decisions that we stand by. I don’t wish for these things to last upon people’s lifetimes. I’ve had my fair share of mental issues. The only mental illness I have is anxiety. Being an empathetic individual and my mom having anxiety, it was bound to happen. However mental illnesses do not mean the end of the world. I have a brother who’s autistic but is one of the smartest people in the house. The ideas of mental illnesses being the determining factor of someone’s life is starting to fade and that makes me ecstatic. Regarding me, both my family and school work have caused me a lot of stress. Many tears have fallen and the gripping of my shirt or my comforter has happened. Everyone goes through some sort of pain. We can find ways to cope. Even though I’ve had anxiety attacks and a few mental break downs, I am still here and am able to search for alternatives. I’m considering going to mental health and have been given anxiety medication to ease the extreme stress anxiety puts me through. We all become stronger every day. All the tears I have shed and the focus on my mental health allows me to not feel very subconscious about shedding them. Death is a tragic thing. I pray for you and everyone else who has gone through the pain of losing someone close to them. I have lost a few and completely understand the pain of it all. With that being said, I make sure that I am a shoulder to cry on in rough times because I understand the pain that comes with it. Without being able to mourn or properly express oneself, it pushes them over the edge. That’s the last thing anyone wants. Though my mental health journey may not have been as bad as other people’s, I know it helped me understand under people’s struggles in their journeys and that is a blessing in my eyes. I believe that with my journey, I have done some bonding with my family, my religion, and myself. I know that I plan to do college and that I’ll have to be self-driven knowing that it’s online, but I know that I’ll also need breaks. I will make time out for myself and keep everything organized in a way that won’t make me feel like I’m shrinking. Mental health is very important. Mental health is just as important as any other type of health. We can be successful with a little more forgiveness of ourselves and focus on keeping our heads screwed on right. It’s okay to cry.

School is expensive, this is something everyone knows. However, as of late I find that it’s other things that may be more of a priority after tuition. Growing up, my life has always been some sort of a struggle. Whether it be what we may have to eat or wear to walking around the house with candles or buying water bottles to suffice for the lack of water. These things are not easy. I have no regrets living with my very supportive family, however there have been many challenges throughout my life as a result of living in a just-making middle class family of seven. Being in middle class doesn’t mean that someone is doing good or is well off, it can be them scraping change to hopefully get enough gas to get to work. All of these things in the end have made me stronger and I feel as though I could be prepared for what is to come in the case that something drastic occurs. Despite all of the struggle, I am still here. I feel as though there could be people going through worse, but I’ve had my fair share. Living in a large household is not exactly ideal and I see the constant success and happiness from smaller families. I wouldn’t trade my family for the world and would stick with them through any struggle. With this money, I could maybe assist my family in some way, shape, or form. Life isn’t always about school, but education is important. I plan to go to school for art and am finding that the materials may be the part that would be an issue at this point. I have starter stuff, yes, but I need the proper technology to even complete school itself. This money could contribute to my materials and once that’s covered, whatever else can go to my family. They’ve suffered to keep my siblings and I happy and it’s the least I could do. I wish for whoever obtains this scholarship to put it to good use and help themselves and maybe someone else.

I couldn’t do it. This was the mentality I had when I arrived home from the middle school one day in late October. I just couldn’t do it. I sat down at the table and began crying. My brother looked over from his Xbox at me, confusion on his face. I didn’t even feel like explaining myself at the time, I just needed to cry. So I did. He hugged me as I did. Once I was done, I explained myself. Eighth grade math was burning me out. It felt like I was a candle with a bright flame and someone was coming by and blowing out the flame every time I went to that class. It was advanced math too. I felt like a failure because there were so many other students in that class who seemed capable of learning at the rate that the teacher was teaching. It felt like I had to be there. There should have been no reason that I couldn’t be there. Just learn it, understand it, use it, move on. I couldn’t do that. It’s not that I couldn’t have, but I couldn’t during class time. I recognized that my teacher would simply do a few example problems and that would be it. It was concepts that went in one ear and out the other. This meant that after school, I would spend an hour or more in Khan Academy and the internet trying to self-teach myself the concept. This took time out of my day. Over and over I had to go through the process of teaching myself the lesson from math until I understood. I couldn’t keep doing that. Not with how much it was burning me out. It made me more independent but at a cost I didn’t need. At a cost others weren’t experiencing. I talked with my elders and they told me that I needed to drop the class. It felt like a weight was put on my heart. However, once I dropped, it was a weight lifted off of my shoulders. I felt like I could breathe. I was put into the normal math class and excelled. It was a medium for me. Some sort of equilibrium I could manage. I did it. By dropping that class, I was able to continue in math at a pace that was right for me. Sometimes I excel and sometimes I struggle, but that’s better than always struggling. I put my mental health first, and it allowed me to breathe and not look down on myself. It was something I needed to do, instead of letting myself burn out and become extremely depressed. I am trying to keep putting my mental health first to ensure a bright outlook on the future. It’s truly important. We can do it.

Art started since I was young. Picking up a pencil and learning to read and write led me to art. I once drew a liger for my mom and she was ecstatic. Even though my art skills were at their beginning, I was drawing faces. Self portraits were a necessity for our small autobiographies in third grade. From there, being in art class brought about a certain energy from me. I was relatively good at math and art, but the difference was that art made me smile. It made me feel free, like a bird being released from a cage. Further passion built as a result of seeing other artists online. It wasn’t any of the famous ones, but small artists I felt that I could live up to one day. Lots of small animations were watched in my free time, as well as drawing my own characters. More and more, I was beginning to appreciate the human form. Not only human form, but animal form. Nature as a whole created a beautiful scene that I wished to replicate on a canvas or piece of paper. I had to do drawings using animal reference photos and have been proud to have created my cats in their lives on paper. The idea that art isn’t just a piece of paper and a pencil, but can also be in the form or dance or music is astounding. I love to do all three of these things, but simply using a pencil draws the most interest from me. Not only that, but the idea that there’s many media to use is like a breath of fresh air. I have drawn portraits of my family over the last year and I regret nothing. It was a beautiful experience and I plan to continue doing so in college. For my favorite artist, I have to say Daniel Greene. When first introduced to him, I thought it was odd that he had things in color like the picture of himself. Then I realized he was in a more modern time and it immediately caught my eye. I didn’t know that legends could be alive at or around the same time as me. The way in which he draws portraits taught me a lot. I’m having intense focus on proportions, and his teachings of it felt right for me. When I had put them to use in class, it was a concept that was understandable. It gave me a better eye. Not only that, but Mr. Greene’s pieces are incredible. The capturing of the wrinkles and hair is so immaculate and I love the way he captures the hues and values in his pieces. I am not the best with paint but it gives me some hope and pushes me to want to do better. Daniel Greene will be in my memory and I’ll be sure to pass on the knowledge to my family and those who wish to know.

Starting in 2024, I began Independent Study, a class that my school offered. My teacher warned me of a senior portfolio I could enter into Scholastic. I nodded, hadn’t thought much of it, and began to make a drawing of my friend and of my younger brother. After I began my first project, A month had passed. That included prep for the larger art project that was four different small drawings of my younger brother. Once I mastered him on smaller paper, I moved to the larger sheet. In addition to this, I started using an easel. Despite my experience, an easel was something new, unexplored territory for me. I spent a month working on my younger brother, perfecting each feature to the best of my ability and getting the texture of his violin. I showed it to my art teacher and she was in awe. I was proud of myself. However, she informed me that I had a month and a half or so left to finish five more pieces for the senior portfolio that I could submit to Scholastic. Panic crashed over me like a wave hitting sand on a beach. I felt the anxiety amp up at those words and I couldn’t believe my ears. I was frustrated, thought about not doing a senior portfolio at all, letting it slowly go by in hopes she wouldn’t notice that I wasn’t working towards it. No, that’s not what happened at all. The next day I entered school, a somewhat dejected expression on my face. Her and I talked it out, we made a plan; I would finish the remainder of the projects before December. I had a month to work with now in the addition of the drawing I had made of my brother and friend at the beginning of the course. So I put myself to work. Started off making one of my family members, trying to work relatively fast. Unfortunately, I’m a slow working artist, it takes time for me because I wish to capture all of the details caught by the human eye. I spent around two weeks on that picture. I only had two weeks left. This in turn forced me to take projects home and work on them. Winter break came around and I was at home working on one of the projects. My family was concerned, but I had to complete them. I completed the next one at home in addition to that. This doesn’t include the tweaks and critiques my art teacher had for me. I was down to my cat, in charcoal, and myself. I knew I was at the finish line, my cat was done and I had a week left to finish the other project. That last project was me. Not only did I complete it, but I did well on it and worked with a mirror in real time. It was only the second time I’d done that. I was finished. I turned everything in to scholastic and waited for the news. I had achieved a silver key award on my portfolio and for my piece of my brother. It was all worth it. This achievement will help me in my pursuit of being an illustrator and I learned that if I really work for hard, I can achieve it. Virtually anything really. It was a stressful but rewarding experience and I plan to carry that passion with me.

Growing up in a low income household meant being surrounded by people who either were or weren't more fortunate than myself. Me and my siblings had to be meticulous in what we eat and how much we eat when our parents cooked. A lot of "we might not be able to make that happen" was heard and although it made my younger siblings and me sad, it strengthened us. Now, when I see people more fortunate than me, I don't try to leech off of them as best as possible. I treat everyone around me with respect, even if they are also in a low income household because I understand how it was. There are many different situations that people have been in financially that have been far worse than my family's so I don't take things for granted and I treat everyone with respect. When I get my degree, I'm gonna give some of my money to my family occasionally to thank them for doing the best they could with the situation they are in. Even if I don't receive this scholarship, I hope that whoever gets it continues to be successful and fortunate in their future.

“Oh Princess! This is so good!” My mom smiled at me. In her hands rests a picture I drew for her. It was her as a liger. It looked absolutely terrible. Looking back at the memory, I couldn’t decipher whether my seven year old mind was blind to the actual quality of the picture or if I was just pretending it looked good along with my mom. Either way, I beamed at her comment and she hung it up in a small section within her closet. Goodness, I had to walk by that thing daily. Little did I know what significance that picture would have on me in the future… My mom did well at supporting me then. I was so pleased with my work after her words traveled to my eardrums. I’m quite sure that delivery gave me bragging rights. The confidence and support I felt at that moment encouraged me to pursue art. Thinking back, the picture was quite odd. My mom loved ligers at the time so it was conventional for her at the time. I, however, wasn’t the best at creating ideas, sketches, you name it, from reference photos. Though I would continue to work on it with her encouragement. I created multiple plants from Plants Vs. Zombies, the game. I recognized the paper plants would keep falling so I placed small objects for them to stand on. Then I created the zombies. I even made their limbs move by ripping the paper. The game was complete. I took a step back and appraised my work. If she hadn’t said those words to me, I wouldn’t have ever appraised any artwork of mine that day. Years had passed. Years of practice. Years of studying works. Years of gripping a pencil. Staring at the different parts of a person. It felt like going from a waterfall to waves at the beach. I was being criticized for my work and able to better myself as a person and an artist. Art is something that speaks to many people and it comes in many forms. There’s art for everyone. When I felt like drawing, I would look on Pinterest at ideas or I’d gain it simply from the music in a movie or the visuals of the movie itself. Sometimes, concepts of videos or creatures or games, storylines themselves would build new ideas up in my mind. Then, they would make it on paper. Everyone who accompanied me on my journey helped open my mind to new ideas. I’m now capable of free-hand drawing faces and portraiture. To give eyes something to appreciate floods me with joy, though it all began with my younger self and my biggest supporter. My mom’s words will forever resonate with me. I plan to take those words with me and make several more achievements. I will create many more art pieces, works that please the eyes, make them drift across the composition. I plan to evoke emotion in people through artwork. My pencil will grace paper for years to come.

Growing up, money was always a struggle. It didn’t mean that it had been an in-the-face kind of problem but it would linger in the back of my family and my mind. The concept of paying bills was extremely difficult to accomplish with what salary my dad has, my mom being a stay-at-home mom, and the household size. It was always a worry of if the next bill could be paid. My family would get financial help from organizations and the government but they would only get but so much money. Through this, I’ve learned that it’s better to be low income and receive help or high class. The low-middle class struggle going back and forth with having just enough. However, this restricts one from having more nice things in their life. I had to take economics and within this class, I learned about budgeting. Having a budget is extremely important. It’s able to keep a person in check with their finances and better manage their expenses and savings. Generally, a large amount of money should be in savings. On top of this, my parents informed me of having an account that’s unable to be touched. This is because even though there’s savings accounts, people treat it as a pocket and simply take from it when their other pocket, their checking account, is empty. Unfortunately this is the sad reality of human beings and often times their lack of control. So having an account that cannot be touched and is for a specific thing, more or less a loan that needs to be paid back, is a good idea to have in my future. Besides that, there’s the concepts of credit and debit cards. I don’t plan to have a credit card because I don’t want to risk lowering my credit score because I over spent and couldn’t repay. I also learned that one must pay all of their bills and buy their needs before purchasing any wants or desirable items. This is common sense in my opinion but I’m glad the idea was solidified as a fact. Economics taught my more but these are the truly important things I learned. Personally, finances is something that I have a mixed relationship with. I have my own system of “checking and savings account”. It is simply two purses. One has money that I try not to take and the other has money that is free to use. I fluctuate between being able to not use the “savings account” money and being unable to control my urges. However, with what I’ve learned, in my future I will take care of all of the needs first with whatever leftover scholarship money I have. After that I will treat myself a little and maybe my family. The remainder will be for if my school supplies run low or just to have money in general. I also will continue to use the skills of managing my bank account and if any loans are taken out, to repay them as quickly as possible to keep my credit score up. This will give me more opportunities. I wish to practice more of these lessons in my future, thank you.

“Oh Princess! This is so good!” My mom smiled at me. In her hands rests a picture I drew for her. It was her as a liger. It looked absolutely terrible. Looking back at the memory, I couldn’t decipher whether my seven year old mind was blind to the actual quality of the picture or if I was just pretending it looked good along with my mom. Either way, I beamed at her comment and she hung it up in a small section within her closet. Goodness, I had to walk by that thing daily. Little did I know what significance that picture would have on me in the future… My mom did well at supporting me then. I was so pleased with my work after her words traveled to my eardrums. I’m quite sure that delivery gave me bragging rights. The confidence and support I felt at that moment encouraged me to pursue art. Thinking back, the picture was quite odd. My mom loved ligers at the time so it was conventional for her at the time. I, however, wasn’t the best at creating ideas, sketches, you name it, from reference photos. Though I would continue to work on it with her encouragement. I created multiple plants from Plants Vs. Zombies, the game. I recognized the paper plants would keep falling so I placed small objects for them to stand on. Then I created the zombies. I even made their limbs move by ripping the paper. The game was complete. I took a step back and appraised my work. If she hadn’t said those words to me, I wouldn’t have ever appraised any artwork of mine that day. Years had passed. Years of practice. Years of studying works. Years of gripping a pencil. Staring at the different parts of a person. It felt like going from a waterfall to waves at the beach. I began getting critiqued on my work. At first, every word that rejected my work felt like a stab in the back. Only after my ninth grade year did I recognize: these aren’t stabs in the back but rather bandages over already open wounds I failed to acknowledge. The curvature was starting to look right. The sense of nature created in artwork. Dimensions, proportions, values. My mom’s words stayed in the back of my mind, a recurring thought that kept me going. I started recognizing my values. The words of encouragement were the paddles to my boat. I was able to sail away onto a new island, the island of artistic imagination and creation. A few of my pieces have made it into Scholastic Arts within the last four years. I felt my heart swell when standing beside my drawings of my family in the OCC building. I was happy to impress my biggest supporters. Everyone who accompanied me on my journey helped open my mind to new ideas. I’m now capable of free-hand drawing faces and portraiture. To give eyes something to appreciate floods me with joy, though it all began with my younger self and my biggest supporter. My mom’s words will forever resonate with me. I plan to take those words with me and make several more achievements. I will create many more art pieces, works that please the eyes, make them drift across the composition. I plan to evoke emotion in people through artwork. With the assistance of college, my skills will be honed and I’ll be ready for the world and to make my family happier. My pencil will grace paper for years to come.

“Oh Princess! This is so good!” My mom smiled at me. In her hands rests a picture I drew for her. It was her as a liger. It looked absolutely terrible. Looking back at the memory, I couldn’t decipher whether my seven year old mind was blind to the actual quality of the picture or if I was just pretending it looked good along with my mom. Either way, I beamed at her comment and she hung it up in a small section within her closet. Goodness, I had to walk by that thing daily. Little did I know what significance that picture would have on me in the future… My mom did well at supporting me then. I was so pleased with my work after her words traveled to my eardrums. I’m quite sure that delivery gave me bragging rights. The confidence and support I felt at that moment encouraged me to pursue art. Thinking back, the picture was quite odd. My mom loved ligers at the time so it was conventional for her at the time. I, however, wasn’t the best at creating ideas, sketches, you name it, from reference photos. Though I would continue to work on it with her encouragement. I created multiple plants from Plants Vs. Zombies, the game. I recognized the paper plants would keep falling so I placed small objects for them to stand on. Then I created the zombies. I even made their limbs move by ripping the paper. The game was complete. I took a step back and appraised my work. If she hadn’t said those words to me, I wouldn’t have ever appraised any artwork of mine that day. Years had passed. Years of practice. Years of studying works. Years of gripping a pencil. Staring at the different parts of a person. It felt like going from a waterfall to waves at the beach. I began getting critiqued on my work. At first, every word that rejected my work felt like a stab in the back. Only after my ninth grade year did I recognize: these aren’t stabs in the back but rather bandages over already open wounds I failed to acknowledge. The curvature was starting to look right. The sense of nature created in artwork. Dimensions, proportions, values. My mom’s words stayed in the back of my mind, a recurring thought that kept me going. Everyone who accompanied me on my journey helped open my mind to new ideas. I’m now capable of free-hand drawing faces and portraiture. To give eyes something to appreciate floods me with joy, though it all began with my younger self and my biggest supporter. My mom’s words will forever resonate with me. I plan to take those words with me and make several more achievements. I will create many more art pieces, works that please the eyes, make them drift across the composition. I plan to evoke emotion in people through artwork. My pencil will grace paper for years to come. As a first generation student, there’s a certain expectation to get as much prepped as possible. It is stressful but manageable and I will continue working hard. However, it is very rewarding because of being held to a higher esteem and my family, especially my mother, is proud of me!

“Oh Princess! This is so good!” My mom smiled at me. In her hands rests a picture I drew for her. It was her as a liger. It looked absolutely terrible. Looking back at the memory, I couldn’t decipher whether my seven year old mind was blind to the actual quality of the picture or if I was just pretending it looked good along with my mom. Either way, I beamed at her comment and she hung it up in a small section within her closet. Goodness, I had to walk by that thing daily. Little did I know what significance that picture would have on me in the future… My mom did well at supporting me then. I was so pleased with my work after her words traveled to my eardrums. I’m quite sure that delivery gave me bragging rights. The confidence and support I felt at that moment encouraged me to pursue art. Thinking back, the picture was quite odd. My mom loved ligers at the time so it was conventional for her at the time. I, however, wasn’t the best at creating ideas, sketches, you name it, from reference photos. Though I would continue to work on it with her encouragement. I created multiple plants from Plants Vs. Zombies, the game. I recognized the paper plants would keep falling so I placed small objects for them to stand on. Then I created the zombies. I even made their limbs move by ripping the paper. The game was complete. I took a step back and appraised my work. If she hadn’t said those words to me, I wouldn’t have ever appraised any artwork of mine that day. Years had passed. Years of practice. Years of studying works. Years of gripping a pencil. Staring at the different parts of a person. It felt like going from a waterfall to waves at the beach. I began getting critiqued on my work. At first, every word that rejected my work felt like a stab in the back. Only after my ninth grade year did I recognize: these aren’t stabs in the back but rather bandages over already open wounds I failed to acknowledge. The curvature was starting to look right. The sense of nature created in artwork. Dimensions, proportions, values. My mom’s words stayed in the back of my mind, a recurring thought that kept me going. I started recognizing my values. The words of encouragement were the paddles to my boat. I was able to sail away onto a new island, the island of artistic imagination and creation. Last year, my art rested on the wall of the WonderWorks Museum after giving an attempt by submitting my work. I hadn’t won much before in art as I was always nervous for any kind of rejection. I took the chance, and the chance brought victory. My hand titled “Delicate” won a Silver Key award in 2022. Again, in 2025, I visited My portfolio which won a Silvery Key as well. My grin stretched as I posed beside my work in the OCC building. I did it, I made it realistic. To put it simply, I have put my life into art. There was passion, drive, support. All of these things collaborated for me and I want to be an artist and hopefully spread those same feelings along through visuals.

Empowerment has been a word that I’ve heard many a time. People use it more in the present tense like “empowering”. Empowerment is the sibling of persevere and inspiration. Empowerment is the feeling that one will want to persevere due to being given courage or inspiration. I have been making art since I was young. My art when I was younger was some good attempts. I remember making my mom a picture of herself as a liger. It was her favorite animal and I enjoyed drawing so it only made sense. When I gave it to her, she beamed. She hung it up and gushed about it constantly. That caused me to gush about it. I then would take time out of my day to admire it. The words I could hear in my head were “keep going”. Fast forward years later and now I’ve begun making art for my family’s birthdays. I was very excited to at the start. I would take only a few minutes to an hour out of my day to create a piece specifically for whichever family member’s birthday it was. Then, come the special day, I would show it to them and they’d give me a smile and a nod. I was happy with that. I would also create small art for my friends in school. That was enjoyable as I was making the art before them and they quite enjoyed my little characters. A few years later I was on the same page, making art for my family’s birthdays. I was burnt out from making so many as I have six other family members that live with me and three that would come to visit. I expressed this to my mom and she said that it was okay to take a break. I didn’t know what that felt like but it gave me a little push to prove that wring. I make more art until I was burnt out all over. I guess my mom was right. I took a break for a year. I felt very revitalized and got back into making art for my family. Come my brother’s birthday and I’ve spent hours on making his birthday art. When I was waiting for everyone to give their presents so I could show him, I found that I was shaking. I looked down at my shaking hands confused. It was time to show him and when I did, he was very pleased. My family applauded me and further inspected the piece. My art was improving. I felt a gush of relief at the sight of the big smile on my brother’s face. I’ve made my dad smile many times as well from making art for his birthday too. Same with my other two brothers and sister. Of course it wasn’t easy with burnouts but I would find art that I liked and it would boost me to keep making art. Today, I want to go to college for illustration and make even more art that will make people smile. This is all to say that I believe that empowerment is the courage and inspiration given. It comes from family and friends. It comes from multiple visuals. It comes from the positive emotions that flow through you just from words and reactions. Empowerment is beautiful.