Reading the description for this scholarship really hit hard. In today's reality, it is difficult to find people who truly care and understand the battle mental health is. In my freshman/sophomore year, I struggled deeply with my own mental health, and battled suicidal thoughts, self harm, depression, and anxiety. I am extremely grateful that I am past that phase of my life, but I am also incredibly grateful for the fact that I went through it. It gives me a new appreciation for mental health awareness, and it enabled me to have much more compassion for those struggling themselves. I have had to re- write this paragraph multiple times to try and explain mental health from my perspective. Imagine walking through a tunnel. That is life. This tunnel is easy, almost fun at first- filled with love and care, happy memories, and an overall sense of joy. But it changes after a while. It becomes difficult to continue walking through this tunnel. You start to wonder if it'is even worth continuing going down the tunnel, if it is even worth finding out what's on the other side. You hear about other people walking through their own tunnels, and see how they are jogging through with ease while you are barely crawling. You start to think it's something wrong with you, that you just aren't fit to see what's on the other side. You have lost your strength, your stamina, and your motivation. That is the best way I can think to explain mental health, at least for me. That is why mental health is important to me. I managed to find my motivation again, to keep progressing through the tunnel, retrieve my joy once more. But just because I managed to get back on my feet, doesn't mean I have forgotten. So while other people may be running past, taking not a hint of the presence of those struggling, I have the gift to be able to notice people crawling, struggling. It enables me to help someone back onto their feet with my own story of healing and my own strength. So now to answer the question- how do I advocate? Why is it important to me? I've explained my experience to the best of my own ability, but not what I actually do with it. At first, it was hard for me to advocate. I was embarrassed, and didn't want to come across as a pick-me. But now, having overcome my own embarrassment and fear, I make sure to be the one who is there to be the voice of reason for others. To make sure people realize that it's worth it to keep walking through the tunnel, making sure people realize that it is ok to not be ok. I've been an example at school of success through tribulation, an example for others to look to when they have no one and nothing else. It is important to me because at the end of the day, ignorance solves nothing. Ignoring a problem that we face individually or collectively brings us nowhere. If it wasn't for so many people along my mental health journey, I would be nowhere. So, if I can go through life knowing I made a difference in even just one persons life, or I stopped one person from commiting suicide, it is worth it to me, being a vocal point for others. I do my best to spread hope for those who need it. Thank you so much for offering this scholarship, and for taking the time to read my essay. Best regards, Jimmy Briaddy.

There was a time where it was next to impossible for me to admit that I struggled. I had pretty significant depression and anxiety, but told no one of it. There were 2 times where I made an attempt at my own life, but survived, and told no one of it. My parents did not understand, and I truly hope they never do. But that makes things often very difficult. My parents are blunt, and that can be both good and bad. I felt belittled, like I was a liability. I thought that they had begun to see me as more of a legal liability rather than their son. I got into some very bad habits, self- harming and vaping among those. My grades fell, and I was bullied often at school. I felt hopeless. Eventually, I broke. In February of 2025, I ran away from home. The police caught me, and I was brought to a mental hospital, where everything unravelled for me. I was vulnerable, pressed to share things I didn't want to share, and it was a real challenge on my "island" mentality. 8 months later, and 10 different mental facilities all back to back, I was home. I was better. I had the epiphany that it is ok to not be ok. But it has not been easy. Returning to school after almost a year of being off the grid was certainly a big shift back to normal life. Most people thought I was dead; I had left a suicide note on Instagram before I ran away to discourage the cops from pursuing me with devout effort. It was rough- I was the center of attention, and I did not like that. I felt a lot of peer pressure to go back to my old bad habits, vaping and other things. But I am pushing through it. Now, as a high school senior, I am anxious to start my life in college. Knowing first hand how much bullying can affect a kid's mentality, I am trying to be the kid who someone can lean on when they think no one else cares. I have made a lot of new friends at school because of that, friendships I believe will last for a long time and be truly meaningful. My hope is that those same people that I am now friends with as a result of my compassion will become like me, advocating for mental health awareness and helping to stop the social norm it has become; bullying. Thank you for taking the time to read my essay, and I hope you consider my application.

Why Calculus is Important in STEM and Mechanical Engineering When I first heard I'd need to take calculus for engineering, I'll admit I was a bit intimidated. But as I've learned more about mechanical engineering and what engineers actually do, I've realized that calculus isn't just another math class to get through—it's actually the key to understanding how so many things in STEM work. Calculus is basically the math of change and motion. It helps us figure out how things move, how fast they're going, and how they interact with each other over time. For someone like me who wants to study mechanical engineering, this is huge. Think about it—engineers design everything from cars to robots to roller coasters, and all of these things involve movement, forces, and energy. Without calculus, we'd have no way to accurately predict how these systems would behave or how to make them work better. What really got me interested in mechanical engineering was seeing how engineers solve real problems that affect people's lives. Whether it's designing more fuel-efficient vehicles, creating better medical devices, or building sustainable energy systems, mechanical engineers are constantly working on projects that matter. But here's the thing—none of these innovations would be possible without calculus. When you're trying to figure out the forces acting on a structure or calculate how much energy a system needs, you need calculus to do the math correctly. I've also learned that calculus isn't just important for mechanical engineering—it's essential across all STEM fields. My friends interested in biology use it to model how populations grow or how diseases spread. In physics, it explains everything from how planets orbit to how electricity flows. Even in computer science, calculus is behind the algorithms that power artificial intelligence and video game graphics. This really shows how fundamental calculus is to understanding our world. What I find most exciting is that calculus isn't just theoretical—it has real, practical applications. When I imagine myself designing a more efficient wind turbine or working on advanced manufacturing equipment, I know I'll be using calculus to optimize designs and solve problems. It's the tool that lets engineers take an idea and turn it into something that actually works in the real world. Learning calculus has also changed how I approach problems in general. It's taught me to break down complicated challenges into smaller, more manageable pieces. It's shown me how to think logically about how different factors relate to each other. These problem-solving skills will be valuable no matter what specific area of engineering I end up pursuing. I know that studying mechanical engineering won't be easy, and calculus will probably be one of the more challenging courses I'll take. But I'm ready for that challenge because I understand why it matters. The world faces serious problems—climate change, healthcare challenges, resource limitations—and we need engineers who have the mathematical tools to develop real solutions. Calculus gives us the ability to model complex systems, test our ideas, and create designs that actually work. Looking ahead to college and my future career, I see calculus as more than just a requirement for my major. It's a fundamental skill that will allow me to contribute to meaningful projects and maybe even help solve some of the big challenges our generation will face. That's why I'm committed to not just passing calculus, but really understanding it and learning how to apply it effectively. Thank you for considering my application, and taking the time to read it.

Education has shown me the blessing of knowledge. In today's world, education is often seen in a negative light, often compared with incompetence and viewed as, in plain terms, a drag. But then there are the few like me, who are enlightened by the obtaining of knowledge and inspired by our teachers and mentors.from a young age, I have always been exceptional in math and ELA, to a point where I was able to skip a grade of math and take high school math in 8th grade. The purity and simplicity of symbols and numbers, the universality of it, how no matter the language one speaks can understand it, all just blows my mind away. I recognize the fact that I am lucky and blessed to have education at all- many of the world's population remains ignorant to literacy. The road through high school has not been easy- between dealing with Type 1 Diabetes, bullies, and a brief mental health crisis, there were many times where I was close to throwing the towel in, and becoming an F student. But whenever that would happen, I remind myself of my potential, of my bright future ahead if I seize the moment. After my experience with mental health, I returned to the world renewed. I had a new sense of self confidence, a new... purpose. And that was to be successful. To prove those bullies wrong, to prove my own negative thoughts to be faulty. But most of all, to prove to myself that I am capable of what I want to achieve. Education at school has all helped me stay focused, whether that be through devout interest in a math subject, or relentless, often annoying standards and accountability held up to me by Mrs. Ash. But one way or another, I have made it through that. But that is only the first chapter in my book. The next chapter, I believe, is college. I want to become a mechanical engineer. That stems from my deep passion for math, as well as my yearning to understand the way the world functions through technology. My plan is to go to SUNY Plattsburgh for my undergraduate degree, and then transfer to Clarkson for my master's degree in mechanical engineering. My goal in life is to be able to honestly say that I made a difference, whether that meant for one singular person or the whole world through technology. If I have the potential to invent the next rocket to space that discovers alien life, or to invent the robotic prosthetic that helps a blind man see again, why would I not pursue that? What logical man would turn that down? There is no way to know if that is what I am destined to do, but I know that whatever it is, it is gonna be great. I can't wait to discover what that is. Education ties that all together. None of this would be possible without it- math would be a foreign language. English would be a campfire tale. Knowledge would be a rich man's luxury. But it is a blessing that in today's day and age, education is not dictated by privilege or an enhanced social status- it is dictated by ambition. It is dictated by the will to tackle long- established ideas, to ask questions, to prove things by one's own accord, to be a free person of any ignorance. I have that. Every single day I ask myself why I bother. The answer is because of my potential. Every day I ask myself questions such as, "how does this work?" or "how does that work?" There is one other dictator over education, however. And unfortunately, that dictator is money. One can have all the ambition in the world, but just mere pennies to their name, and not get anywhere close to their goals in their lifetime. The world and economy we live in today has no observable grace for the disadvantaged. But that is where generous scholarships like this one come in. Because of people/organizations like you, kids can have a chance to become free- thinking, accomplished individuals, by bridging the gap between money and college. After all, motivation without resources is a fever dream. Some day, I hope to give back as well, given the high salary nature of the career I am pursuing. I hope to also inspire the next generation, as education and the teachers within have gifted me. So I do hope that you take me into consideration for one of the winner slots of this award. Thank you for taking the time to read my application.

We often attribute some of the greatest discoveries to Ancient Greece, or other such early civilizations. Did you know that despite the inaccurate measurement unit of the Royal Egyptian Cubit, the Ancient Egyptians were able to make the pyramids with incredible precision that rivals even today's modern buildings? Also, even today, many people study Ancient Greek architecture and admire it with a deep passion, solely because of how advanced it was, especially considering the time frame. That was not doable without math, and that is what fascinates me. Math, whether that be an expression such as 2+2=4, or all the way to ideas and theorems such as the letter "i" representing the square root of -1, is at the base of the way the universe functions and how we as a species perceive reality. The incredible ability to seamlessly present ideas and prove concepts with numbers and symbols, when you truly think about it, is truly amazing. This also reflects human innovation on a global scale- 2 people communicating in different languages cannot understand each other, but they both know what 5x5 is, because of the non- discriminating nature of logic and math. What is amazing also is that things like the English Language and even electricity were all implemented after the discovery of math. Put that in perspective- such seemingly simple things that we take for granted every day came after the discovery of math. That is because, as mentioned earlier, math is the universal language of the world. I want to be a mechanical engineer. It goes without saying that that is a very math- oriented career, chosen in part due to my deep love of the subject. Math is applied to that career in many ways, including geometry, angles, rate of change, and so much more I have yet to learn. That is all why I love math- it just simply makes sense. Thank you for taking the time to read my application, and thank you for considering my application.

Essay 1: Creating Connection Connection has always been complicated for me. As a former foster child who moved through multiple homes between ages 2 and 7, I learned early that connections could be temporary and painful. For years, I protected myself by avoiding deep relationships altogether. But my adoptive parents taught me something crucial: creating connection isn't just about receiving—it's about giving. They showed me that building meaningful relationships requires vulnerability, even when it's scary. Slowly, I began to open up. Now, I actively work to create connections with others, especially those who might feel isolated or different. I make it a point to sit with the new student at lunch, to include the quiet kid in group projects, and to check in on friends who seem withdrawn. I understand what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. Creating connection means being intentional. It's asking someone about their day and actually listening. It's remembering small details they've shared and following up later. It's showing up consistently, even when it's inconvenient. I've learned that connection isn't about quantity—it's about quality. I may not have hundreds of friends, but the relationships I've built are genuine and meaningful. Each connection I create helps heal the wounds from my past while simultaneously helping others feel seen and valued. The irony isn't lost on me: the child who once closed himself off to avoid pain now actively seeks to bring people together. But that's exactly why I do it. I know what disconnection feels like, and I'm determined to ensure others don't have to experience that same loneliness. Essay 2: Kindness in Action Kindness found me when I needed it most. During my years in foster care, small acts of kindness from foster parents, teachers, and even other children were lifelines that kept me going. A foster mom who made my favorite breakfast. A teacher who noticed when I was struggling. These moments mattered more than they probably realized. Now, I try to pay that kindness forward through action, not just words. I volunteer at a local organization that supports foster children, helping to organize donation drives and mentoring younger kids in the system. When I talk with them, I don't offer empty platitudes—I share my story and listen to theirs. Sometimes, just knowing someone understands makes all the difference. Kindness in action also shows up in my daily life. I help elderly neighbors carry groceries. I tutor classmates who are struggling without making them feel inadequate. I leave encouraging notes for my parents, thanking them for choosing me and never giving up on me, even when my walls were highest. I've learned that kindness doesn't require grand gestures. It's often the small, consistent actions that create the biggest impact. It's patience when someone is having a bad day. It's offering help before being asked. It's choosing empathy over judgment. My past could have made me bitter, but instead, it made me more aware of others' pain. Every act of kindness I extend is a tribute to those who showed me kindness when I was lost. It's my way of breaking the cycle of hurt and creating ripples of compassion that extend far beyond my own experience.

Loss is no stranger to me. I was a foster child from ages 2-7, and during those formative years, I experienced a profound and repeated sense of loss that would shape who I am today. I lost foster parents who had shown me kindness, foster siblings who had become my playmates and confidants, friends who had made me laugh, and teachers who had encouraged me. With each relocation, I didn't just lose people—I lost pieces of myself. I bounced around through numerous foster homes, each move forcing me to say goodbye to meaningful connections that I had treasured. At first, each loss hurt deeply. I would cry, wonder why I had to leave, and hope that maybe, just maybe, I could stay in one place long enough to feel like I belonged. But after enough time and enough goodbyes, something inside me changed. I became numb to it all. The numbness wasn't a choice I consciously made—it was a survival mechanism. I closed myself off emotionally in order to protect myself from the inevitable pain that came with each new placement. Why invest in relationships when they would only be torn away? Why open my heart when it would just be broken again? Between major trust issues and an increasingly pessimistic view of the world taking hold, I found myself in a rough place emotionally and psychologically. The walls I built were high and thick. I stopped trying to connect with new foster families. I kept other children at arm's length. I went through the motions of daily life without truly engaging with the people around me. It was safer that way, or so I thought. Eventually, I was adopted, and I am still living with the people I consider myself incredibly lucky to call my parents. They have provided me with stability, love, and a permanent home—things I had desperately needed but had almost given up hoping for. Their patience and unconditional support have helped me begin to heal. But the loss I endured during those early years has still left a scar. Scars don't disappear; they remain as reminders of past wounds. I still remember all those people—those friends who shared their toys with me, foster parents who tucked me in at night, and foster siblings who felt like real brothers and sisters. I still miss them nearly daily, wondering where they are now and if they ever think of me too. These memories are bittersweet, filled with both warmth and sadness, and they continue to influence how I form relationships and view the world around me. Thank you for your time reading my essay, and for considering my application.

I always used to surround myself in the belief that a real man doesn't cry. It was a sign of weakness, and quite frankly, was pathetic. Me, and so many others believe that, and bottle everything up. I myself went through an extreme period of depression and anxiety, constantly fighting with the voices in my head that would tell me to man up. There is much more background to this story. I was in the foster care system from 2-7, abused in every one of them until I ended up in the home that adopted me. During that time, I was faced with much adversity involving the fact that my "real parents" were not in the picture, not helped by the fact that I was constantly moving schools in the face of being rehomed. At birth, I was given the diagnosis of Cystic Fibrosis, and later on, Type 1 Diabetes. I also have ADHD, which caused me to follow through on a lot of my impulses and get in trouble daily at school, even after I was adopted. For these reasons, I was an embarrassment at school. I was seen as a "defect," a "reject." I had little to no friends, and constantly faced both verbal and physical bullying at school. Eventually, I broke. In mid- 2024, I had my first suicide attempt. I woke up the next morning with a miracle, and no one ever knew about it until my second attempt in 2025, where when I survived that, I went off the rails and ended up being hospitalized. I bounced around from 10 different hospitals in an 8 month journey. Eventually, after getting better, I made it home, re- joined school, and am doing much better. I have thought many times about how to write this next section. I kept deleting what I typed, seeing it as either too cynical or bitter entitlement. But the plain truth is, it sucked. Being different, constantly dealing with people at school, than going home and feeling all alone. It really did suck. The truth is, those hospitals are not the reason I am better. It is a result of desperation. Most of them were horrible- ignorant, often entitled staff that watched over us, run- down facilities with a half- working shower and little to no heat, and kids who were better at expressing their frustration through violence rather than words. I was bullied just as much in those facilities. I was bullied for my health issues, and so much more. I was in many fights, when I had no previous fights before my hospitalization. I had to learn to be selfish, and how to put my own safety over others. That was counterintuitive to my healing, given that part of my issues was seeing myself in a negative light. If anything, that experience just made it worse. I self- harmed much more. I was rapidly declining. A kid named Ethan changed everything. He was at my final facility, and we hated each other's guts. He punched me in the face on more than 1 occasion, and the breaking point was when he pulled a stick he had whittled down to a sharp point on me. After that whole situation was dealt with, I called my Mom. The next day, I was home. I realized, there are a lot of people who have it much worse than me. I need to make this work. And that was the epiphany. Slowly, I stopped self- harming, I was able to rebuild relationships with my family, I was able to feel ok and hopeful for the first time in my life. That was a true gift, more valuable than every material object in my bedroom. And that has enabled me to have a life, to pursue my dreams in engineering, and be a symbol of strength for those who know what it is like to be alone. Thank you for taking the time to read my essay, and for considering my application.

From the moment the opening notes of "No One Mourns the Wicked" filled the theater, I knew I was experiencing something extraordinary. Wicked has profoundly shaped my worldview, teaching me invaluable lessons about perspective, prejudice, and the courage to stand up for what's right—even when the entire world stands against you. This musical has become more than entertainment; it's a guiding philosophy that influences how I approach challenges, relationships, and my academic pursuits. What makes Wicked so compelling is its brilliant subversion of a familiar story. Growing up, I knew the Wicked Witch as a villain, but Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman revealed the woman behind the green skin—Elphaba, a misunderstood outcast fighting against systemic injustice. This narrative shift taught me a crucial lesson: there are always multiple sides to every story. Before judging anyone, I now pause to consider perspectives I might be missing. This approach has transformed how I engage in classroom discussions, resolve conflicts, and understand complex social issues. Elphaba's journey resonates deeply with my own experiences. Like her, I've felt like an outsider, different from those around me. Watching her embrace her uniqueness rather than conforming to others' expectations gave me courage during difficult times. Her signature song, "Defying Gravity," became my personal anthem during challenging academic periods. When self-doubt crept in or obstacles seemed insurmountable, I remembered Elphaba's determination to forge her own path despite opposition. That mindset has driven me to pursue ambitious goals and persist through setbacks. The friendship between Elphaba and Glinda represents another powerful aspect of the musical. Their relationship demonstrates that meaningful connections can form between vastly different people and that true friendship challenges us to grow. Glinda's transformation from a superficial popularity-seeker to someone capable of genuine empathy mirrors my own journey toward authenticity. Wicked taught me that personal growth often requires uncomfortable self-reflection and the courage to change. Beyond the characters, Wicked's themes of propaganda, scapegoating, and authoritarianism feel increasingly relevant. The Wizard's manipulation of Oz's citizens—turning them against Elphaba to consolidate his own power—serves as a cautionary tale about blindly accepting official narratives. This has made me a more critical thinker, someone who questions information sources and seeks truth beyond surface appearances. These analytical skills have proven invaluable in my academic work and will continue guiding my future studies. The musical's score itself is a masterpiece that never fails to move me. Schwartz's compositions perfectly capture each emotional beat, from the soaring hope of "Defying Gravity" to the bittersweet resignation of "For Good." Music has always been important to me, but Wicked demonstrated how powerful songs can advance storytelling while expressing complex emotions. The lyrics to "For Good" particularly resonate—the idea that people change us permanently, for better or worse, has shaped how I value relationships and approach every interaction. Wicked has also inspired my career aspirations. The musical's ability to entertain while addressing serious themes like discrimination, corruption, and moral complexity has shown me the power of art to educate and inspire change. Whether through theater, writing, or other creative mediums, I hope to create work that challenges audiences to think differently, just as Wicked challenged me. This musical continues to influence my values, decisions, and dreams. It reminds me to question assumptions, embrace authenticity, stand up for justice, and recognize that we're all changed by the people we meet. I am deeply grateful to the scholarship committee for this opportunity and for supporting students in pursuing their educational goals. Your generosity makes dreams possible. Thank you sincerely for investing in our futures.

As a devoted fan of Love Island, I've always been fascinated by how the show's challenges reveal authentic connections between contestants while entertaining millions of viewers. If given the opportunity to design a new challenge for the series, I would create "Heart to Heart," an innovative competition that tests emotional intelligence, communication skills, and genuine partnership—qualities that have profoundly shaped my own personal development and academic journey. "Heart to Heart" would begin with couples separated into soundproof booths on opposite ends of the villa. Each person receives a series of increasingly personal questions about their partner's dreams, fears, childhood memories, and future aspirations. The twist: they must answer questions about their partner, not themselves. Questions range from "What's your partner's biggest fear?" to "What career did they dream of as a child?" This format rewards couples who have invested time in meaningful conversations rather than surface-level attraction. The second phase involves a physical element where couples reunite and must navigate an obstacle course while literally tied together at the wrist. However, one partner is blindfolded while the other must guide them using only verbal communication—no physical pulling or pushing allowed. This tests trust, patience, and the ability to communicate clearly under pressure. Obstacles include balance beams, maze sections, and puzzle stations that require both partners' input to solve. What makes this challenge meaningful to me personally is how it mirrors real-life relationship dynamics. Success requires the same skills that sustain lasting partnerships: active listening, empathy, clear communication, and mutual trust. Watching Love Island over the years has taught me that genuine connections are built through vulnerability and consistent effort—lessons I've applied to my own relationships, team projects, and collaborative academic work. The challenge would conclude with couples watching footage of their partner answering questions about them in the booth, creating emotional moments of recognition or revelation. Points are awarded for correct answers, obstacle course completion time, and a public vote on which couple demonstrated the strongest communication. The winning couple receives a private dinner and immunity from the next recoupling—high stakes that make the challenge consequential. Beyond entertainment value, "Heart to Heart" would serve a deeper purpose. It would encourage contestants to move beyond physical attraction and actually learn about each other's inner lives. In our increasingly disconnected world, this challenge celebrates emotional intelligence and authentic connection—values that have guided my academic pursuits in psychology and interpersonal communication. Creating this challenge concept has also taught me about my own creative process and problem-solving abilities. Designing something that balances entertainment, emotional depth, and fairness requires critical thinking and empathy—skills I've developed through my studies and hope to strengthen further in higher education. The exercise of imagining how people interact under pressure has deepened my understanding of human behavior and relationship dynamics. Love Island, despite being reality television, offers genuine insights into human connection, vulnerability, and personal growth. The show has entertained me during stressful academic periods while also providing unexpected lessons about communication and authenticity. "Heart to Heart" represents my vision for challenges that honor both the entertainment value and the deeper human elements that make the show resonate with millions. This creative exercise reflects my passion for understanding human relationships and my commitment to bringing thoughtful innovation to everything I pursue. I am deeply grateful to the scholarship committee for considering my application and for supporting students in achieving their educational dreams. Your generosity makes it possible for students like me to pursue our goals without overwhelming financial burden. Thank you sincerely for this incredible opportunity and for investing in our futures.

When Taylor Swift performed "All Too Well (10 Minute Version)" at the 2021 American Music Awards, she delivered what I consider the most moving performance of her career. This moment transcended entertainment—it was a masterclass in vulnerability, storytelling, and the transformative power of reclaiming one's narrative. As someone who has followed Swift's journey for years, this performance profoundly impacted how I understand art, resilience, and personal growth. The performance itself was mesmerizing in its simplicity. Standing alone on stage in a flowing burgundy gown, Swift needed no elaborate production or backup dancers. Her voice, raw with emotion, carried the weight of a decade-old story finally told in full. What made this performance particularly moving was the context: this was the extended version of a song fans had cherished for years, now released as part of her re-recording project to reclaim ownership of her music. Watching her perform those lyrics—especially the newly revealed verses—felt like witnessing someone transform pain into power. What strikes me most about this performance is Swift's courage to be vulnerable on such a massive platform. Every line she sang carried the weight of lived experience, from the specific details about dancing in the refrigerator light to the scarf that became a cultural phenomenon. Her willingness to share such intimate moments taught me that true strength lies not in hiding our struggles but in owning our stories completely. This lesson has been invaluable in my own life, encouraging me to approach challenges with honesty rather than pretense. The performance also demonstrated the importance of patience and strategic thinking. Swift waited years to re-record her music, turning a painful situation—losing ownership of her master recordings—into an opportunity to connect with fans on an even deeper level. This resilience has inspired my approach to setbacks in my academic journey. When faced with obstacles, I now ask myself: How can I transform this challenge into an opportunity for growth? Beyond the personal impact, this performance showcased Swift's evolution as an artist. The maturity in her voice, the confidence in her delivery, and her ability to hold an audience captive with just a piano and her presence revealed an artist at the height of her powers. She proved that spectacle isn't necessary when you have genuine emotion and masterful storytelling. This has influenced how I approach my own work, prioritizing substance and authenticity over superficial flash. The cultural moment surrounding this performance also resonated deeply with me. Millions of fans singing along, sharing their own stories of heartbreak and healing, created a collective experience of catharsis. Swift's ability to articulate universal emotions through specific details reminds me that our individual stories, when told honestly, can connect us all. This understanding has shaped how I engage with my community and approach collaborative projects. Moreover, watching Swift reclaim her narrative through this performance taught me about agency and self-advocacy. She didn't simply accept what happened to her; she took action, re-recorded her entire catalog, and turned a business dispute into an artistic triumph. This proactive approach to adversity has become a guiding principle in how I navigate challenges and advocate for myself and others. This performance represents everything I admire about Taylor Swift: her artistry, resilience, vulnerability, and unwavering commitment to her craft and her fans. It has shaped my values and aspirations in profound ways. I am deeply grateful to the scholarship committee for this opportunity and for supporting students in pursuing their educational goals. Thank you for your generosity and investment in our futures.

From the moment I first heard Sabrina Carpenter's music, I knew I had discovered something special. Her artistry has profoundly shaped who I am today, influencing not only my personal growth but also my academic and career aspirations. As a dedicated fan, I have witnessed her evolution from a Disney Channel star to a multifaceted artist, and her journey has taught me invaluable lessons about authenticity, resilience, and the courage to pursue one's dreams. Sabrina Carpenter's music resonates with me on a deeply personal level. Her lyrics explore themes of self-discovery, heartbreak, and empowerment with a vulnerability that feels both intimate and universal. Songs like "Skin" and "because i liked a boy" demonstrate her ability to transform personal challenges into art, teaching me that our struggles can become our greatest sources of strength. This perspective has been instrumental in how I approach obstacles in my own life, particularly during challenging academic periods when self-doubt threatened to derail my goals. What strikes me most about Carpenter's career is her unwavering commitment to authenticity. In an industry that often pressures artists to conform, she has consistently stayed true to her vision, experimenting with different musical styles and refusing to be boxed into a single genre. Her album "emails i can't send" showcased a mature, introspective side that proved she wasn't afraid to grow and evolve publicly. This fearlessness has inspired me to embrace my own authenticity, whether in my academic work, creative projects, or personal relationships. Beyond her music, Carpenter's work ethic and dedication have served as a blueprint for my own ambitions. Watching her balance multiple careers—acting, singing, songwriting, and touring—while maintaining her artistic integrity has shown me that success requires both passion and discipline. She has taught me that pursuing excellence means constantly pushing boundaries and never settling for mediocrity. This lesson has driven me to challenge myself academically, taking rigorous courses and seeking opportunities that stretch my capabilities. Carpenter's advocacy for mental health awareness and her openness about her own experiences have also deeply impacted me. She uses her platform to encourage fans to prioritize their well-being and seek help when needed. This message came at a crucial time in my life when I was struggling to balance academic pressure with personal challenges. Her honesty gave me permission to acknowledge my own struggles and seek support, ultimately making me a stronger, more resilient person. Furthermore, Carpenter's emphasis on kindness and supporting other women in the industry has shaped my values and how I interact with my peers. Her grace in handling public scrutiny and her refusal to engage in negativity demonstrate a maturity that I strive to emulate. These qualities have influenced how I approach collaboration and competition in academic settings, always choosing to lift others up rather than tear them down. As I pursue higher education, I carry these lessons with me. Sabrina Carpenter has shown me that success is not just about talent—it's about perseverance, authenticity, and staying true to your values even when faced with adversity. Her career has taught me to embrace vulnerability, work tirelessly toward my goals, and use my voice to make a positive impact. I am deeply grateful to the scholarship committee for considering my application and for supporting students in pursuing their educational dreams. This scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of my education but also affirm that passion and dedication are valued and worth investing in. Thank you for this opportunity.

My situation can only be described as unique. I was a foster child from ages 2-7, then was adopted by 2 people I am proud to call my parents. They did not stop, however- they stayed within the Foster care system, taking kids in to try and give them another chance. I had a set of siblings, 2 girls, one older than me and the other younger. Faith and Izzy. They lived with us for a few years, and it got to a point where we were inseparable. I loved them as though they were related to me by flesh and blood. One day, however, everything changed. A family friend, who was upset at my parents for unrelated reasons, decided to call CPS on them, and make up lies involving my parents abusing us, in which NO WAY WAS TRUE. The next morning, a CPS agent was in our house, taking my sisters with them. We were just about to adopt them, too. It was a detriment to our family. Needless to say, we have nothing to do with that family friend now. We spent thousands on lawyers, trying to fight CPS and DSS to get them back, out of nothing but love for our family. It was to no avail. Things went sideways, we lost the fight, and financial reasons forced us to give up. Izzy was eventually adopted into a home with 6 other kids. Faith has been through just over 80 other foster homes, getting into some bad habits involving drugs and theft. She is almost 18, Izzy is 14. I have not seen either of them since that day. So while they were not my true, biological siblings, I was still proud to call them my sisters. They were my sisters. Not my foster siblings, but my sisters, as far as I was concerned. I loved them as such. Grief has been an interesting experience for me. I grieved hard, and it was rough on our whole family. But we got through it. I use my experience with grief to be the person that others can talk to when life gets rough, because lets face it, we all need that more than we are willing to admit. It also gave me resolve to be a foster parent someday, so that I can be the parent to some other kid who really needs a foundation, as I did, and as my sisters did. Thank you for taking the time to read my application. Have a good day! PS sorry for the crappy picture. It shows my parents, Faith, Izzy, and me. It was Christmas. We were all so happy, content. I still miss them.

For the last few years of my life, I observed a lot of irony. I was struggling- suicidal, and had many self- destructive tendencies. I always found myself being the one who was there for others, but crying alone every night, with nobody being there for me in my lowest moments. Whenever I would see someone down, I always asked if they were ok, and offered them someone who would listen. But no one cared if I was. No one paid any notice. I know what it feels like to be surrounded by people, yet feel desperately alone. I am much better now- intensive therapy has gotten me through the tunnel, and I am thankful that I am still alive. However, there are a lot of people who suffer horribly within their minds, but have no one to talk to. Now, I want to pursue a career in mechanical engineering, given my love and passion for technology. I am aware that it is not directly correlated to mental health. But what is correlated are my future plans to continue to be the person who is there for others, to be the one person that would listen when no one else would. I know what it feels like to not have that, and I feel sick inside knowing that there are people that don't have that. Because the truth is, everyone deserves a chance to get pulled out of the mental pit they are trapped in. Everyone needs to know that there is someone who cares for them, and that they are worthy. Thank you for reading my essay, and for considering me for this scholarship.

You know what fascinates me the most? Gears, and gear ratios. I know, lame, but that is neither here nor there. Yet still- by twisting a gear, all kinds of things can happen. It can make other gears spin, it can trigger a sensor, it can generate movement, and so many other things that I do not have the space here to mention. But what also strikes me as important is the team effort involved within a chain of gears. One gear is missing, and the better half of that system goes to crap. That is one of the best ways I can come up with to explain what it is to live with FASD and ADHD. Sure, I have above- average intelligence compared to my peers, and I have a clear mind. But every once in a while, it feels like a gear just... disappears. I will be in the shower one morning, getting ready for school, and find myself simply standing there, water running under my shoulders. It is as though I forget that I exist, and that I need to get going. What I find is impacting the most, however, is my memory- I often forget how to do simple tasks, like chores, or even brushing my teeth, and to no fault of my own. To no coincidence, I plan on studying and getting a degree in mechanical engineering. gears, mechanical engineering... see the connection? Expanding beyond just the horizons of gears, I also find great interest in hydraulics, physics, and everything else in the mechanical engineering world. As a kid, I would spend hours in my room, taking apart my robots and other toys to try and make new things. Taking motors, wires, and lights out of my toys, I would use cardboard and tape to create something new. I remember making an Iron Man gauntlet with a light, battery pack, and switch. I made a cardboard glove- like model, put the light in the middle, the battery pack on the forearm, and the button between my thumb and pointer finger. I was so proud of it. In retrospect, I wasn't proud of the fact that I had made it. I was proud of the fact that I had been able to come up with a design in my head and execute it with everyday items using my 8 year old mind. So rather, my passion for engineering is deep rooted, from those countless hours of my childhood. I am very excited to finally do the "big boy" version of this- tinkering, designing, and implementing. I need college to do that, and money to do that. So I truly hope I come to mind when you consider a winner. Thank you for your time, and reading my essay. Happy New Year, as well!

I always found it funny when people would ask me who my real parents were. It made me think- what does "real parents" even mean? I will come back to that. I was in the foster care system from age 2 to age 8. I bounced through 3 homes, the first 2 were abusive. The third one is the one that adopted me. The words "Mom" and "Dad" were foreign concepts to me. Mars felt closer than those 2 words. I was always an outsider at school, boosted by the fact that I had Cystic Fibrosis, affecting my capabilities at school in multiple aspects. It had always taken a toll on my young mind that my "real" parents didn't want me, for whatever, at the time unknown reason. But I pushed on. I was adopted at age 8, by my case manager at the time. Minda Briaddy was my case manager, making sure I was advocated for and supported in every way possible. When she found out I was put up for adoption, she practically jumped at it. Her, and her soon- to- be husband, took me in as their own. They were the first people I ever called Mom and Dad. They were prepared to take me on, despite my complicated health issues. They taught me how to get along with my peers, use manners, and so many other valuable life skills that I would have not otherwise learned. After years, I finally had permanency. Now, of course, that is not the end of the story. We have certainly struggled, both in our relationship with each other and with outside factors, such as a house fire mid- Covid 19 era. But we have made it work. They have never given up on me, even with my diagnosis of Diabetes at age 11. So, let us go back. What are "real" parents? Real parents aren't the parents who conceived me. They aren't the people that claim to love you, but turn your back on you for drugs and alcohol. They are the ones who take care of you, raise you, feed you, teach you proper social skills, and hold you accountable when need be. So, my "real" parents are those people. Minda and John, or for me, Mom and Dad. Sure- my BIOLOGICAL parents gave birth to me, but chose alcohol over me. So picture me in 7th grade, being asked who my real parents are, deep in thought. I am proud to say that my real parents are the people I call Mom and Dad. They are my real parents. I am their real child. Thank you for taking the time to read my application, and I thank you for considering me for your award.

"You got a bright mind, kid," Mr. Uchal stated. "You can do anything you set it too." He was by far my most favorite teacher in high school. He was the Tech Teacher, had a shop class, various power tools, and 3 Ender Pro 3D printers. For me, that was like a home- away- from- home. He taught me a lot about 3D printing, machining, and so many other skills I see as very important, especially considering what I want to study in college; mechanical engineering. Mr. Uchal's room was always open. whenever I got inspired with some radical, often way- above- my- level idea, he always met me with compassion, amusement, but most importantly, enthusiasm. He saw my potential, and always fed into it in the best ways. I remember him teaching me how to design on OnShape. I caught on quickly, and impressed him numerous times over. In fact, I have designed a lot of mechanical arms through there, and I am still in the process of making one. He also taught me how to program on Arduino, which I love linking to my 3D printed projects. Since I was 10, I always had a deep passion for machines, how they work, and how I can make machines of my own. My Mom used to buy me Kiwi Crates, a kit that taught essential engineering concepts, and was dumbed down for little kids. I loved doing those, and even found myself making my own things out of the parts in the kit. So I was instantly gravitated to Mr. Uchal's room when I was a freshman in high school. He was the only one during that time who encouraged me to keep going with my radical ideas, and my deep passion for engineering. My Mom saw my obsession as immature, my Dad could not have cared less, and my friends were too focused on other stuff to care about my passions. Mr. Uchal was always there, helping me when I got stuck, teaching me what I needed to know, and just being a welcome and kind face when I needed it. He was more than a teacher to me- I saw him as a mentor, a hero to me. I consider myself blessed to have had the opportunity to learn from him, and to have him guide me on my high school journey. In my senior year, looking back, as I am in the process of applying to colleges, I realize just how lucky I was to have him in my life. Thank you for taking the time to read my essay, and I appreciate your consideration of my submission.

"You are not alone." A statement that is so simple and true, yet so hard to believe for me and so many others like me. I started back at my camp counselor, JD, and looked around at all my peers in the cabin we had shared for that week. I was at the Barton Center Diabetes Camp in South Hero, Vermont, a camp where diabetes was the "norm." Every single kid, staff member, nurse, and even the yard workers all had diabetes. And here I was, sitting at the table, waiting for my Mom to come pick me up, hearing the most valuable words I have ever and will ever hear in my life. "No matter what happens, through every low, high, and dying Omnipod, someone else out there understands." Growing up, I always felt like an iceberg. Often isolated, with other icebergs passing and going, only the top 10% visible of me for others to see. Sure, I have 2 eyes, 2 ears, I speak the same language, but I felt different. It often turned into jealousy and resentment for me, wondering why it had to be me. Where I lived, not a single other person had diabetes More often than not, I felt very alone, almost cursed. But my experience at The Barton summer camp changed my life. I met people who had gone through a lot of what I had, who truly understood what it meant to have diabetes in today's world. Who understood the frustration of staying up all night, trying to get my glucose levels down after miscounting my carbs by accident. Who understood what it felt like to have to go to the nurse's office in the middle of class for what seemed to others like no true reason. This has shown me how no one is alone. From the single parent struggling to keep food on the table for her 2 kids, to the 10 year old cancer patient fighting for their life in a hospital room. And what a gift it is to know that somewhere, there is another human being who goes through the same thing, who knows what it is like to be different. But a gift is nothing without action. Having diabetes has certainly made me humble. I want to be the next person who can help even just one person see the same gift that I have- that they are not alone. Even if that doesn't mean starting a summer camp or even having the same disadvantages as someone else, it can also mean being the one to design a new robotic kidney for someone on dialysis, or inventing the perfect prosthetic that helps an army vet walk again. And that is a gift. Diabetes has humbled me to have the ambition to use my intelligence to improve the lives of others. That is why I want to be an engineer- so I can design the next great thing that reminds someone that they are not alone. Please, help me bring that to fruition. Thank you for your time, and your consideration of my application.

When you think of a disability, what do you think of? Perhaps you think of an amputee, or someone who has a physical limitation, requiring that they be dependent upon another person. But very few people think of someone with Autism, or ADHD, or really any kind of neuro- divergence. I myself have ADHD and FASD, which has often presented big challenges to how I live my life. Imagine you are presented with 3 doors. The first one says that it leads to suffering. The second and third ones have promises of good decisions and rewards as a result. Now, any reasonable person would walk up to those doors, consider the options, and choose the second or the third door. Now, imagine you barely even woke up in time to make it to those doors, your pants are on backwards, and your hair is a mess. Your tie is flying around, covering your eyes. you make it to the doors, but don't stop to even look at them. You just blindly run through the first one, tripping over your own untied shoelaces. That is ADHD- not considering the consequences, a million different things going through your mind at once. And more often than not, that is how I felt, navigating my way through life. Now, i'm not alone. So many others go through nearly the exact same thing as me, every minute of every day, of picking door 1. With a young age comes naivety, and with that comes a certain level of resentment and something close to jealousy. Why did I have to be the one who couldn't control my own impulses, and always ended up in trouble? My young mind was insightful, but ignorant. However, growing up for me meant accepting that I am different. I am a bit of a mess at times. But that is ok. With my ADHD, I can think of a million things at once. Why not use it? Similar to Bruce Banner and The Hulk in Avengers Infinity War, why not take the good part of the monster, and become one with it? That way of thinking has guided me since the start of middle school. And now, looking at where I am now, almost out of high school in the better half of my class grade wise, about to go and make a difference in the world. I can't imagine what would have happened if I just took those cards I was given at birth, and never played them. Yet here I am. Now, I can understand that there are a lot of people out there who are way worse off than me, and that I could help them. I could be the person that invents something to help a kid with Autism talk for the first time, or walk on their own. The way I see it, I am taking the second door for the first time in my life by going to college. So please, help me get there. I appreciate your time considering my application.

I have severe ADHD and FASD, both which tend to impair my ability to learn and think the same way as other kids in my grade. Through elementary and the first half of middle school, impulsive decisions and poor judgement from my ADHD landed me in the principles office often, which meant I would often find myself having to catch up on my work. As frustrated as I had felt, however, I didn't stop. perhaps it was stubbornness, or maybe it was me hyper focusing on education, another gift from my ADHD. But I believe it came from a place of trying to be better than my limitations. My parents would always say that ADHD makes it so that I always pick door 1. Imagine- you are presented with 3 doors. One door has a giant sign above it, flashing neon red to not go in, because it is dangerous and obsolete. The other 2 contain success and joy on the other side. Someone without ADHD would look at those 3 doors, and decide to go through either the second one or the third one. With ADHD, I often find myself blindfolded, running as fast as I can through that first door, falling on my behind and landing in a fat pile of trouble. As one can imagine, it got quite challenging to navigate daily life when I always would choose door 1. Contrary to my parents, I think my ADHD is a gift, not a curse. at least, that is the flip I made in my mind at the beginning of my freshman year. Sure, it makes me choose door 1 all the time, but it also makes me exceptional at multi-tasking. As I mentioned previously, it causes me to hyper focus often. But that made my studies in school much easier, given my ability to soak in information like a sponge when I was hyper focused. I quickly began to thrive in the school environment, including being a year ahead in my math classes, and even skipping my junior year. It allows my mind to run a mile a minute. For example, I am actively writing this, listening to "Up Up And Away" by Juice World, going over pros and cons in my mind over various colleges I am considering (SUNY Plattsburgh is a top runner for me so far), and trying to solve my design issues with a model I am working on in Onshape. I am able to do all of this unlike most other people, which is the main reason I see ADHD as almost a super power. This realization, or epiphany, as I would go as far to say, really opened a pathway in my mind that I had never considered before. People with autism may be physically and often mentally impaired, yet some of the smartest people to ever walk this earth had the diagnosis, like Bill Gates, Elon Musk, and even Einstein himself. What I am trying to get at here is that a neurodivergence or learning disability isn't a conviction, it isn't a prison sentence, nor is it a curse. Depending on how you look at it, it can be a true gift. I will end it this way- I don't think the glass is half full. I don't think the glass is half empty. I see the glass overflowing to exponential amounts of matter, both water and air, overflowing over the rim. Thank you for taking the time to read my essay, and I sincerely hope you take me into consideration.

As I have grown up, I have had to deal with a lot of adversity both in the home setting, and in the school setting as a whole. I was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis at birth, and later on I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. I also went through the foster care system from ages 2- 8, which took a toll on my social life. It was not always easy for me to remain persistent, and to count my blessings. But then it hit me. Am I not alive? Even if it may not be permanent, do I not have a roof over my head, and clothes on my body? That was the epiphany that has guided me to this very moment, getting ready to enter into college, and soon after, adulthood. Now, naturally, when my mind thinks of something as grand as that, it goes deeper. The fact that I am alive is not mere luck, it isn't a "right place right time" kind of thing. Technology, and compassionate professionals are the reason that I am alive. I use an insulin pump- the Omnipod 5 closed loop system. Was it not a compassionate person who wanted to help people that designed the first prototypes, or better yet, made them come to fruition? In fact, it was Dr. Arnold Kadish who had such an obsession for improving the lives of diabetics that drove him to make the first fully functioning insulin pump. And that achieved dream has changed the life I live, and make it possible for me to live a more normal life. And that in itself is a blessing. That realization, that despite my challenges, history has gone in the perfect order of events for me to be able to live a full life, let alone even exist, and pave the way for more kids like me in the future. You never know what is in store for the future- whether or not it is set in stone for me to change the world, or for me to just be some run- of- the- mill kid trying to get by. But I personally believe that nothing is set in stone, and change comes with hard work. In order to achieve what I want to achieve before I leave this world, I need to chase it, and take action. College is the first step for that, but college is not free, as we know all too well. So I thank you for considering my application, and I do hope you consider me for this award. Thank you for your time.

I have always had a deep passion for engineering and robotics. Since the age of 7, I would get Kiwi Crate kits, that had parts and instructions to make a really cool product, as well as teaching me the engineering principles within said project. I loved it. My mind has always strived to figure out the way things work. As a kid, I would spend hours in my room, taking apart my robots and other toys to try and make new things. Taking motors, wires, and lights out of my toys, I would use cardboard and tape to create something new. I remember making an Iron Man gauntlet with a light, battery pack, and switch. I made a cardboard glove- like model, put the light in the middle, the battery pack on the forearm, and the button between my thumb and pointer finger. I was so proud of it. In retrospect, I wasn't proud of the fact that I had made it. I was proud of the fact that I had been able to come up with a design in my head and execute it with everyday items using my 8 year old mind. In middle school, when my tech teacher started a robotics club, I jumped right at it. We were to design a robot to compete in the FRC 2023 competition. We did very well, getting a top 10 placement in the first round. We made it to the semi-finals. I did a lot of the coding, design and I was also the driver during the competition. I felt very fortunate to be able to have that opportunity to participate in that competition, and expand my horizons even more as well as increasing my knowledge on robotics and general engineering concepts. I also participated in the following year, 2024, and did a lot of the coding that year, as well. We did not place that well, but I still had a lot of fun and deeply valued that experience. From the beginning of highschool to the moment I write this, I spend a lot of time on OnShape making 3D designs, then going to the library maker space to print those creations into reality. Just recently, I made a robotic arm with 4 degrees of freedom, all cable- driven. It didn't work, as the infill was too little, but I am actively re- designing it. When I fail at a project, I try again. Some call it stubbornness, but I call it perseverance. The most important tool in an engineer's tool box.

Yes, I was in foster care from ages 2-7. I still remember the day I was taken from my biological parents like it was yesterday. I bounced around from home to home, until finally being adopted by the people I consider myself blessed to call my parents. I intend on going into the engineering field. At the forefront of discovery and innovation, it is those that dream up and execute ideas to help send the human race into the next era. Consider the smartphone- an incredible feat. Steve Jobs is one of the more common names associated with the smartphone. If he had no ambition, or less than he had, would we have received the first iPhone? I would argue not. But thanks to various mentors, he did. He made history. One of his first mentors included his own adoptive father, Paul Jobs. That also shows that a limitation such as the foster care system does not hold back potential- if anything, it gives a person what they need to persevere in the face of challenge. Me, and so many others, are living proof of what it means to have ambition and perseverance. I could go on and on forever about various household names who were involved one way or another in the foster system, yet who made history. But my point still stands. I want to be one of those names, who when you look out into the world and see it in all its natural and man- made beauty, that you think of. But most of all, I want to make a difference. I want to improve the way we live for the entire world, poor or rich, young or old, black or white. I want to be a name that other kids who went through similar things like me can see on the big screen, and gain hope from the fact that I didn't let my differences get the best of me. No- I used it as a fuel to keep going. I took the hardship, and turned it around into productivity. That is what I want to be able to tell my grandkids someday, that I made a difference. However, this is only possible with the help of others. Given the challenges of today's society, money guards the gates to one's dreams, including my own. It is a sad fact, but yet it stands true and cannot be ignored by blissful and theoretical dreams. I feel highly capable, and motivated to live up to my ambitions, if I have the resources needed to do so. So I thank you for taking the time to consider me, and I sincerely hope you see my goals and are willing to help me see them through. Thank you.