As I sit down to write this essay, I think about all the other applicants who want to win just as bad as I do. The competition makes me nervous. It's fine. It's cool. Just take a deep breath, I tell myself. I could be the one, the winner of the Chappell Roan Superfan Scholarship. The cicadas in the summertime compel me to write the best, most super graphic ultra modern scholarship essay ever. Chappell Roan has made a tremendous impact on my life. As a lesbian myself, seeing another lesbian make music from the heart and get it hot like Papa John gives me a lot of hope for the future of women and queer people. If another midwest princess like myself can make it, then shoot, so can I. I can be corny knowing girls like Chappell live on the cob with no fear, only love and light. Chappell and I aren't so different. We share a birth name, we both live in the Midwest (her state borders mine) and we both have a crush on Regina George. It's refreshing to know that someone as regular as me can be so similar to the it-girl in her heels who keeps on dancing at the Pink Pony Club. I heard her music a few times before "The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess" dropped, and it clicked, but what drew me in was Good Luck, Babe! The beat was ethereal, her voice powerful as a million hearts beating as one, the lyrics striking my heart. I could relate to pretending to be something I'm not, and her persuasive penmanship won me over. Her music isn't just casual, it's explosive, a kaleidoscope of sound, passion, tears, laughter and truth. Her music is authentic, and authenticity from a plain girl from the Midwest is nothing short of beautiful. Chappell could write about something as simple as a cigarette and make it sound like a supernova. When I lie down in my California King at night (well, maybe it's a twin bed) I like to destress from the day and play music by my favorite artists, which, of course, includes Chappell Roan. I oscillate between shimmying to "Femininomenon" to lamenting lost love to "Casual." Chappell Roan's music can match any situation. Whether you're at a jazz bar on MaryAnn Street or knee deep in the passenger seat, she's there. Her magical music can accentuate any mood. My heart flutters knowing that she's everywhere: Long Beach, the library in my hometown, Tennessee, Manhattan, Tokyo, New York, LA, summer camp, your high school dance, everywhere and anywhere...you can find her.

Teachers have the power to change the future. Think about it. Think about a teacher who changed your life for the better. Everyone has that one teacher who changed the trajectory of their lives, that one teacher who made everything click, that one teacher they will never forget. I want to be that teacher for my students, as I understand that power as a child who needed and cared for my teachers. My teachers were always there for me, both academically and emotionally. If I needed help on an assignment, or just needed an ear, one of my teachers was there for me. If it wasn't for my teachers who believed in me and everything I was capable of, I probably would not have made it this far, or even died by suicide. I want to pay it forward to the future generation while honoring the teachers who supported me when I needed it the most. One teacher who comes to mind who changed my life is Christopher Belt, an English teacher at my high school and a family friend. I was also an intern of his during my junior year of high school. Chris is one of the greatest people to ever live, in my opinion. While he fulfills his duty of teaching English and creative writing, he also promotes critical thinking skills and honoring who you are as a person. Alongside teaching subordinate clauses and predicates, Chris teaches what it means to be human and how to unlock your full potential. Chris places emphasis on the "spirit" of a person more than their body. He coined the terms called "meatsack" and "bubble" to describe the body and the spirit. On the surface, the words are peculiar, but once you come to understand them, they make perfect sense. Chris always says on the first day of class, "you are more bubble than meatsack," meaning that your spirit and personality will always matter more than your appearance or any physical attributes of yours. I first heard this in the middle of recovering from my eating disorder, which changed how I viewed my body and how I viewed the world around me. As I interned under him, I graded many worksheets he assigned to his students. He gave me tips on how to give proper feedback and how to make students feel important, even if they didn't get a passing grade or answer the question completely right. I learned about the inside details of being a teacher, how some students will need you more than others, and how some students will like you more than others. Most importantly, I found my teaching style and connected with him through teaching and other interests we shared. He made me feel like a person when I felt like an alien, and he stood up for me when I needed it. Chris embraces the weird side, and allows it to connect with "weird" kids and change their lives for the better. He has stopped multiple students from taking their lives, just by treating them like they mattered. I am sure I am not the first to write about Mr. Belt, as he changed thousands of lives, which is a testament to his character and power as a teacher. I want to be a teacher just like him when I graduate, both weird and kind, smart and creative. Everybody needs a Mr. Belt in their lives.

Teachers were my beacon of light during all of my dark times. I didn't have the best childhood, and when that started to wear on me in the classroom, my teachers took notice and did everything in their power to support me. I lived in an abusive household from ages 3 to 13. This wormed its way into my behavior in the classroom. Some days I'd just cower or burst into tears, other days I'd wear a mask and pretend like everything was fine. It takes a good teacher to identify and help a student in pain, but it takes a great teacher to see beyond the mask and get to the root of a problem. Almost all of my teachers had this ability and helped me through my tough times. Even after I left that toxic environment, my teachers were there for me when I needed them. My late aunt was also a teacher, which I believe also had an impact on me. It also helped that I learned to read before many of my peers, so I took joy in helping them sound out words to make sentences. High school was also an important time for me. My teachers were very important to me. On top of learning the basic subjects, like English and Mathematics, I also learned how to be a successful human being, and how to stand up for others. I was taught to think outside of the box, and be critical of the things I encounter. Knowing how powerful a teacher can be on the life of a student, I want to pay it forward to the future generations by being this beacon of light to those who really need me. In a world that is full of uncertainty, I strive to be a role model and somebody my students can rely on. My classroom will stay the same in the sense that I will always be there for my students, and there will always be something to learn, even if it isn't relevant to the subject I teach. I plan to earn my Bachelor's in English Education and teach at the high school I attended. After I settle in, I wish to earn my Master's, and then a doctorate if that is in the cards. The students are the future. With nobody to help them in their time of need, it is expected that they will close themselves off to social development and never live up to their fullest potential. Teachers have the power to shape young minds and lead them to fulfill their potential, allowing them to come leaders and role models in the same way their teachers were for them. With my one life, I want to be that role model, that beacon of light, if only for one student.

During my senior year of high school, I was an intern to another high school teacher in the building for a class at the local community college. Her name was Michelle Hawkins, and she had a long-lasting impact on my future and my life as I know it. I always knew I wanted to be a teacher of some kind. Growing up, I learned to read much sooner than my peers, and took joy in helping them sound out words and teaching them new letters. I taught songs I made up 15 minutes prior to kids younger than me at daycare, and always looked for ways I could help my teachers. I also liked writing stories and identifying myself with characters I created. After deciding I would like to teach English to high schoolers, I set out to take classes and find internships to gain some experience. My first year of internship was with my creative writing teacher and family friend, Chris Belt. He taught me much more than how to write stories and conjugate verbs, he taught me the importance of being a good role model and when to be a leader. My second year, Michelle taught me all those things with much more information combined. My previous internship consisted of grading work sheets and making a singular lesson plan, but I was given the opportunity to go much farther in Ms. Hawkins' classroom. I made lesson plans every week and even taught literature to our students. She gave me space to grow and create while also instilling in me the importance of structure and gaining knowledge. Behind the scenes, we had valuable conversations about life, education, and building relationships in the classroom. I am on the autism spectrum, so I tend to struggle with making connections. Ms. Hawkins made sure to give me extra opportunities to work on those skills and be a mentor while also giving me pointers on social skills. She didn't think less of me, or that I wouldn't make it in the education field because of being autistic, but saw potential in me because of the autism. I have an eye for detail, so I tended to notice when students would start to fall behind before others might have caught on. Because of this, I'd reach out and connect the best I could before things took a turn for the worse. I'd do my best to connect with humor, or just let the student know I was here for them, all things I learned from my mentor. I truly believe I wouldn't have realized my full potential or my passion for teaching if I was not blessed with being Ms. Hawkins' intern. I gained priceless knowledge and experience as I worked under her wing, while also relishing in the learning I partook in. I plan to get my Bachelor's in English Education and, if things go according to plan, teach right back at the high school where I was taught. After I settle in, I want to work on my Master's, and eventually earn my doctorate in literature. I will never forget the way I felt when learning about something I loved, and I yearn to impart this feeling and love of learning to future generations of students. Our students are the future, and it is imperative teachers love students and love what they do to shape young minds into role models and leaders. With everything I have gained from Ms. Hawkins, I plan to do just that, and more, in my classroom.

I am pursuing a career in education to explore my dream of becoming an English teacher and to honor my late aunt, Wanda Coyne, who taught for over 25 years and retired as a superintendent in Illinois. Growing up, I found myself enthralled by words and books. It was hard to pull me away from a captivating story once I'd started reading. I'd often get in trouble at school for reading during instructional time, and found myself curled up with a good book during recess, when other children were playing. Words and language were important to me, as I was always reading a thesaurus or dictionary to expand my vocabulary. I started talking around 11 months old, and reading just shy of two years old. With this love of language and books, I wondered if I could pursue a career doing what I love. I also enjoyed teaching and helping others, as I would play pretend school as a child and see what I could do to benefit others. I wanted nothing more than to share my love of books with other kids. As I made my way through my schooling, I discovered through the help of wonderful teachers and career pathway programs that teaching high school English was my one true calling. I've explored this by interning with English teachers in my local school district, thus solidifying my love of English and building a new passion for guiding young lives. During the summer of my junior year, my aunt Wanda's health started deteriorating drastically. She was going into heart failure, with fluid growing around her heart and clogging her arteries. On June 29th, at 12:41 am, she passed away, surrounded by her surviving sister and nieces. Growing up, I valued my aunt's intelligence and generosity, as she always sent me more money than I needed for birthdays and Christmas. My aunt also loved books, as she spent almost all of her free time at the library. When she wasn't teaching or working with administration, she was furthering her own education and learning more and more through books. She fought as hard as she could to send my grandma and great-grandma to college, and never understated the importance of a good education and learning how to read. Literacy was very important to Wanda, which she never let us forget when she was alive. Former students have fond memories of her during their time in her classroom. She was described as passionate and kind to everyone, traits all teachers must have to make it in the business. When I reflect on this information, I realize I want to become a teacher just like her, leaving positive impacts on children's lives, and share my love of reading with others. Everybody has at least one teacher who left a lasting impact on their lives, and I have my fair share. When I think of how my aunt was one of those people to others, it motivates my drive to finish school and get my degree in English Education. Teaching is my dream job, and I will stop at nothing to make sure I can teach and carry on my aunt's legacy.

Have you ever wanted something, so badly, that you were willing to deny your true self to get it? That's kind of what being autistic is like. You have to mask your traits, constantly be monitoring your body language and facial expressions, over-explaining yourself so nobody gets the wrong idea with your speech...And it still happens...The list goes on. My name is Jolyne Custer, and I am an autistic woman. My dream is to teach high school English, not just because I have a passion for reading and writing, but because all of my English teachers have inspired me to be my best self through my writing and my teaching. A lot of autistic kids' enjoyment of reading is quashed by the education system, and I want to re-instill that love through my teaching. Building relationships is also important in teaching, therefore making disabled children feel valued in my classroom is something I hold in high regard. Advocating for these students' rights is also a major must-have. Too often do IEPs, 504s, and accommodations get overlooked or even outright ignored. Putting a stop to that is something I also feel very passionate about.

As an autistic student, education and being alive has been no easy task. I face challenges such as disabling sensory overload, social isolation, and emotional dysfunction. It certainly doesn't help that I grew up in an abusive household where I was told I wouldn't amount to anything. As a child, I was often lonely on the playground. I had few friends, and the ones I did have considered me a "last pick." I was shy, and the last to get a joke. I got frustrated when things didn't make sense, and I yearned for someone to truly understand me. Many kids thought I was too weird to befriend, and this led to years of isolation and loneliness. I turned to unhealthy ways of getting attention, like acting out at home and scouring the internet for friends. While I did befriend a few people my age, it was still hard to connect with them, since many of them lived across the country. I also struggle with overstimulation and heightened senses. I wear headphones in class and have a limited wardrobe to avoid a sensory meltdown. Noise is everywhere to me, and it often feels like I hear and experience things that other people cannot. I'm just lucky that I have support systems in place at school so I can succeed just like everyone else. Despite these challenges, I want nothing more than to succeed and graduate with a degree in English. It is my dream to teach English to high schoolers, and I will stop at nothing to achieve my goals. There are very few autistic teachers in the world, and after extensive research, I can count the teachers I have discovered on just one hand. I want to change that, and I want to be a role model for the autistic girls who cross paths with me. I want to show them that they can do anything they put their minds to and that they can see themselves anywhere in the workforce and beyond. After I was formally diagnosed with autism at age 16, I wanted to look for role models I could see myself aligning with. I found intelligent icons such as Temple Grandin, but agriculture wasn't up my alley. There was Albert Einstein, of course, but I was looking for women like me. Then again, I couldn't be picky. In a world where disabled people are looked down upon and often forced to live on fixed incomes, any success is a win. I was, however, a huge fan of Greta Thunberg. As I've gotten older, I've accepted the fact that there will be few role models like me, for now. I place heavy emphasis on "for now," because I also plan to use my power as an educator to promote autistic women in the workforce, with a focus on education. Autism isn't easy to live with, but with time comes experience, and I'm ready to break barriers and become my best self, while also showing others that you can be autistic and be successful.

According to the Department of Labor, only 15% of autistic adults have full-time jobs. Less than 50% of autistic people have college degrees, and only one-third of autistic people drive. The National Institute of Health reports that 9 out of 10 autistic women have been abused at some point in their lifetime. These statistics are often disappointing and discouraging to autistic people interested in higher education and independence. If autistic adults are so underrepresented in modern society, it often seems better to give up if there's no place for people like yourself. I am one of the autistic people who can drive. I am one of the autistic adults interested in higher education and being employed as a teacher in a high school. I am also an autistic woman who has been abused. I know of only one teacher who is autistic. Even with research, many autistic teachers quit. The constant reminder that the majority of society deems me inferior and unfit to function in society has taken a toll on my mental health. There have been moments where I truly thought it'd be better just to quit, find a menial job, and live with my mother forever. I'm not going to do that. After enduring years of abuse, misogyny, homophobia, ableism, and a general contempt from society, I resolved that I wouldn't give in to any bigotry from anyone. I owe it to myself to achieve my goals and make my dreams come true. I owe it to my mother and grandmother, who worked so hard to make sure I was successful in school and beyond. I owe it to all of my mentors who believed in me when I thought there was nothing to believe in. I owe it to all of the autistic people who can't work, or drive, or who have been or are currently being abused. I owe it to all of the autistic people who have been denied education or independence because of their disability. I owe it to all the little undiagnosed autistic girls who believe there is something wrong with them. I want to dedicate my life to showing people autistic people are just that - people. I want to become a high school teacher, and one day, a professor of literature. I want to empower my students and teach them that disabled people can do anything with confidence and support from society. I want to empower my female and genderqueer students and show them they are loved and valued, if not in their homes, then in my classroom. I've discovered with research and with lived experience that unconditional support makes a world of difference. If I can do that for just one child, then my job is done, and I am satisfied. In ten years, I plan to be part of the 15% of autistic employees and advocate for that number to grow. I want to be part of the approximate 50% with a college degree and advocate for autistic students. I want to leave a legacy behind me and inspire the youth who identify with my experiences. I've learned from the hardships I've endured that there is, in fact, a way out of the darkness and that I have value. Not "despite" anything, but because I am a human being, like everyone else. Autism doesn't make me inferior, it makes me myself.

As a child, I was profoundly lonely. I had few friends, many others found me either hard to understand or too weird. I would find out much later that this was because I was autistic. I am an autistic senior in high school. I like singing, writing, and drawing, like many students my age. I've been published twice with other writers and artists, and I wish to publish a book of my own. I dream of becoming a high school English teacher. My teachers were wonderful role models and support systems for me growing up, and I want to emulate the same passion and kindness those teachers had. Teaching has always been something I've been passionate about, but experiencing high school and even having the opportunity to intern with high school teachers has solidified my decision to enter the field. When I had trouble making friends, my teachers were always there for me. Despite many attempts at matching me with students, after a while, I found myself alone. Regardless of the outcome, my teachers were still kind to me, ignoring any flaw that may sprout up. I also found comfort in stories. A world where anything was possible was rather appealing to me, especially since my childhood was often unpleasant and traumatic. I found myself creating in spite of the limits placed on me, using media as an outlet to scream, to paint, to scribble, to do anything that gave me a voice. In spite of all I have endured, a lonely school experience, a horrific childhood and a struggle with mental illness…I want to become something greater than all that. I want to change lives in the classroom. Students spend more time at school than they do with their own families, which is another worrying subject. If I have their attention for that long, I have the power to change their lives, make them feel safe. Teaching my passion while also supporting young minds feels like my calling. I wouldn’t want to do anything else. I also want to change my male students’ perception of women. There has been an alarming spike in misogyny, and as a woman myself, I want to see this eradicated. Educating others on the value of other human lives and promoting equity is a major goal I strive to bring into my classroom. Without each other , we’ll fall into isolation and despair. When we love each other and accept others as their true selves, we grow. Growth is the goal.

he woman who saved my life without even knowing it was Mrs. Amy Scott. She was my junior year AP English Language teacher. Junior year, I had moved in with my maternal grandmother to try to get back on track after a brutal battle with depression and a silent attempt at suicide. I was nervous to meet all of my new teachers and work to earn some college credit. Being autistic is no walk in the park either, with the results leaving me constantly stressed and with few friends. I was excited to be in a class that challenged me and allowed me to develop my writing and reading skills. English is my bread and butter, so to speak. I’ve loved reading since before I could enter school, and I started reading chapter books in preschool. I’d often get in trouble for reading during other lessons in elementary school, which is an odd thing to get in trouble for, in my opinion. Punished for reading and learning. I digress. I was often in my own world due to a traumatic childhood and a lack of friends who really got me. I often drifted into my mind, or to bad places, sometimes even in Mrs. Scott’s classes. I loved what she had to say, and often hung on every word, but some days the dread was too much. Some days I wanted nothing more than to waste away and be forgotten. I was even planning how I’d go, right at the break. Mrs. Scott never forgot me, however. Over the course of the school year, our relationship strengthened, and I found a role model in her image. Before Christmas break, she gifted me a pair of pink cat socks and some fidget rings. We had recently been sharing pictures of cats we discovered on the internet, or pictures of the cats she owned herself. The small act of kindness, the brief moment in her life where she thought of me made me feel so important. Naturally, I gifted her a cat coffee mug. There were little chocolates inside. She understood that I couldn’t always do the things other students could do. Sometimes, socratic seminars were frightening, and I never spoke. However, I wanted to grow. When I led a discussion one afternoon, she told me I did an “excellent job.” Another small act of kindness, yet so valuable to me. I wanted to live again, fully. After a year of hard work, funny cat images and long talks about various subjects, I ended up scoring a 5 on the AP exam. Without her kindness, useful language tips and the time she put into helping me thrive, I’d likely score lower or earn no college credit at all. Mrs. Scott helped me be my best self, and I owe her the world for it. I’m actually writing this in the bed I slept in every night junior year. As I visit my family and think about college, I can’t help but remember how kind and considerate Mrs. Scott was. I had always wanted to teach English, but Mrs. Scott finalized the decision. I wanted to be someone as amazing as her. I want to support students like myself who may be planning their own deaths, either by reaching out directly or doing subtle acts of kindness to let my students know that I am there. The world needs more teachers like Mrs. Scott. The world needs more teachers like Mr. Foster. If I can change one life emulating the passion these teachers had, then I feel fulfilled.

It is no surprise that disabled people have fewer opportunities in comparison to their abled peers. As an autistic person with ADHD and chronic pain, I too have experienced my fair share of social and academic hardship. Making friends was hard, and to this day I don't have as many as I'd like. I find myself easily overwhelmed by school and like topics. There are days when I seriously contemplate giving up and giving in, forever. However, I can't. It'd be wonderful at the moment, but when I finally return to a point of wellness, which I will, I'll be kicking myself for quitting when the going gets tough. My dream is to be a high school English teacher. I know of only one autistic English teacher in all my years of life and research. There's not much of a reference to compare my work to. But…that is okay with me. I truly believe that all these years of persisting in the face of adversity is going to pay off. When I walk across the stage with my hard-earned degree, smiling brightly as I plan my entrance into the classroom, then and only then will I know that I’ve made it. Autism is a disability. It alters how I think, emote, and live on a day-to-day basis. There’s no argument about that. That’s okay. I’m okay with who I am. I love who I am. I’d rather be myself in a million lifetimes than live a single day being someone I’m not. I may not have NF. I’ll never know the unique experience of living with NF. However, I understand what it is like to be disabled and feel different. I never want my students to feel that way. I want each and every student that walks into my classroom to feel loved, cherished, and accepted for who they are, regardless of what happens in their body or brain. Every child deserves success, and I will devote my career to making sure that happens under my authority. If awarded the money for this scholarship, not only would I be extremely grateful to Mr. Prosser, but I would use each and every penny wisely to fund my dream of teaching English to high school students. Attending school is costly, but a dream doesn’t come without a will. I believe that my will is iron-clad, and nothing can stop me from fulfilling my dreams and changing lives, every single day. I’d like to close with a quote from Frida Kahlo. She declares, “At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.” It is true. More than anything. Day by day, we might survive, or we might live. We endure no matter how we make it through the day, and that is more powerful than any weapon.

In a world of vicious censorship and the unfortunate return of book burning, it is important for people to understand that all ideas and books have value. Thus, Fahrenheit 451 is an accessible and entertaining way to express the idea that book burning is a despicable thing. Sure, stamping out hatred is a wonderful thing. All human beings deserve love and respect, but book burning is associated with hateful behavior, such as homophobia and antisemitism. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is a dystopian tale where books are banned and firemen exist to stamp out the existence of literature. Knowledge is not power, but rather a tool of the disobedient and delinquent. Ideas are controlled, held on a tight leash like a rabid dog. The story follows the protagonist, Guy Montag and his internal battle regarding books and his duty to extinguish them. Ultimately, it is a tale of caution, with subtle (and not-so-subtle) tones denouncing censorship and groupthink. Hateful acts are rising across the globe, with anti-trans legislation sweeping the United States government and xenophobia plaguing our continents. The only way to combat hate is with love, with education, with conversation. At the heart of all of this, ideas are best expressed through storytelling. Humans are connected by story. Tales and fables have been passed via word of mouth and writing all throughout the ages. Books are what entertain and educate us. By having meaningful dialogue about the world around us, we can take a stand against all forms of bigotry. Fahrenheit 451 is a great story for enacting change, especially for the younger generation, for the future leaders of our society.

According to the Department of Labor, only 15% of autistic adults have full-time jobs. Less than 50% of autistic people have college degrees, and only one-third of autistic people drive. The National Institute of Health reports 9 out of 10 autistic women have been abused at some point in their lifetime. These statistics are often disappointing and discouraging to autistic people interested in higher education and independence. If autistic adults are so underrepresented in modern society, it often seems better to just give up if there's no place for people like yourself. I am one of the autistic people who can drive. I am one of the autistic adults interested in higher education and being employed as a teacher in a high school. I am also an autistic woman who has been abused. I know of only one teacher who is autistic. Even with research, many autistic teachers quit. The constant reminder that the majority of society deems me inferior and unfit to function in society has taken a toll on my mental health. There have been moments where I truly thought it'd be better to just quit, find a menial job and live with my mother forever. I'm not going to do that. After enduring years of abuse, misogyny, homophobia, ableism and a general contempt from society, I resolved that I won't give in to any bigotry from anyone. I owe it to myself to achieve my goals and make my dreams come true. I owe it to my mother and grandmother, who worked so hard to make sure I was successful in school and beyond. I owe it to all of my mentors who believed in me when I thought there was nothing to believe in. I owe it to all of the autistic people who can't work, drive or who have been or are currently being abused. I owe it to all of the autistic people who have been denied education or independence because of their disability. I owe it to all the little undiagnosed autistic girls who believe there is something wrong with them. I want to dedicate my life to showing people autistic people are just that - people. I want to become a high school teacher, and one day, a professor of literature. I want to empower my students and teach them that disabled people can do anything with confidence and support from society. I want to empower my female and genderqueer students and show them they are loved and valued, if not in their homes, then in my classroom. I've discovered with research and with lived experience that unconditional support makes a world of difference. If I can do that for just one child, then my job is done, and I am satisfied. In ten years, I plan to be part of the 15% of autistic employees and advocate for that number to grow. I want to be part of the approximate 50% with a college degree and advocate for autistic students. I want to leave a legacy behind me and inspire the youth that identify with my experiences. I've learned from the hardships I've endured that there is, in fact, a way out of the darkness and that I have value. Not "despite" anything, but because I am a human being, like everyone else. Autism doesn't make me inferior, it makes me myself.

Growing up, patriarchial society had tried to instill within me this one value: the able White man is superior. The woman was second-hand, and if she didn't look like Cindy Crawford, there was nothing good about her. At first, I believed it. I knew nothing else. Playing into the stereotypical opener of a scholarship essay or underdog story, I was always different as a child. While my friends had one mom and dad, I just had my mother. I noticed my peers had different expectations of a family and purpose. My friends dreamed of, ironically at such a young age, homemaking or royalty. I had decided that such trivial pursuits were not my style. Construction was the end goal to five-year-old me. Of course, that wouldn't do for maintaining the status quo. No, what woman would be building houses and the like? I was then geared towards styling dresses and playing with dolls by my educators. While it was appealing, I had bigger dreams at that age, like running my very own daycare or building my empire from the playground up. I started kindergarten and my teachers noticed I had an abnormally large vocabulary, I was reading at a college level and solving equations other children had no concept of. I was on track to end up a Harvard alumnus, in my mother's words. However, life soon changed, and so did my ambitions. A new figurehead entered my mainly matriarchial society and destroyed everything in its path. Enter stage left, my mother's new boyfriend. To me, it seemed like his intentions were to destroy my mother and corrupt my innocence. For ten years, he took control of my mother's finances and social interactions, senselessly beat us verbally and physically, and took something you should never take from a child. After that, my only ambition was escaping, by any means necessary. I threw myself into music, into the arts, as an escape from the abuse. Be it grueling rehearsals for musicals or painting in isolation, I took every measure possible to limit our interactions. I tried taking my life multiple times, to no avail. Finally, in 2019, my mother took the step she thought she never could, proving to herself and me that it is possible to escape abuse. We found our own place and rebuilt our lives. I was enthused, and excited to be free. However, I soon realized I had forgotten how to live. It's taken years of therapy and self-improvement to reach where I am today, and I am thankful to every woman who worked to make sure I could heal properly. In the spring of 2023, I was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, affirming the concerns I had known in the back of my mind all along. All of my questions seemed to be answered at that moment, the explanations for all my peculiar behaviors, the social exclusion I experienced, and the troubles I faced navigating the world. As summer approached, this directed me to feminist literature, opening my eyes wider to the injustices women and children face across the globe. I decided right then and there that I would use my life to empower young girls, as well as promote women's liberation in the educational realm. I'd do it for all of the girls who deemed themselves inferior due to the maltreatment from the patriarchial society that dared to entrap them in a lie. Society persists on pushing the male-dominated worldview, but I reject it wholeheartedly. There is plenty of value in a woman. She is strong, determined, intelligent, everything a man once was to me.