My first rave ever was Ubbi Dubbi 2025 at Texas Motor Speedway and I’m still not over it. I’d never been to anything bigger than a sweaty club night, so walking in alone (because my friends flaked for finals) and seeing 40,000 people in kandi and cowboy hats almost made me turn around. I’m glad I didn’t. The moment that wrecked me was during Zeds Dead’s sunset set on day two. The whole crowd was packed at the Wub Wub Wagon stage, sky going pink, and right before the drop in “Lights Out” the bass just cut out. Dead silence. Everyone looked at each other like “what the hell?” Then the drop slammed back in and we all jumped at the same time. I came down laughing with some girl in a light-up cowboy hat on one side and a dude in a full pineapple suit on the other. Pineapple guy traded me kandi that says “VIBE TRIBE” and told me “keep spreading the love, queen.” I still have it on my wrist. That weekend flipped a switch in me. I grew up in a tiny Texas town where nobody really talks to strangers and success means good grades and not letting your parents down. After Ubbi I started thinking success looks more like showing up as your full self and letting other people do the same. I came home obsessed. I dropped way too much money on an Akai MPC, started making beats at 3 a.m., and actually played my first little warehouse gig this summer. Crowd was small but when they lost it to my edit of “Core” I got the same rush I felt at Ubbi, except this time I was the one behind the decks. I also finally get why everyone’s always yelling about PLUR. It’s not just a festival thing for me anymore. Peace is me not flipping off the guy who cuts me in the Whataburger line. Love is checking in on my little sister when she’s stressed about SATs. Unity is dragging my campus EDM club to volunteer at shows so broke students like us can still go. Respect is picking up trash that isn’t mine and asking people’s pronouns before I trade kandi. Ubbi Dubbi was my first taste of a room (well, a racetrack) full of people choosing to be kind to each other for no reason. I’ve been chasing that feeling at every show since. One day I want to be the one making the beats that make a whole crowd jump together like that. Until then I’m just trying to bring a little bit of that weekend into every room I walk into. First rave ever, and I’m completely hooked. Thanks, Ubbi.

Watching my mother navigate the relentless challenge of providing for five children on a single income was my first lesson in perseverance. I didn’t just learn about resilience, I absorbed it by seeing her work multiple jobs with unwavering determination. This taught me that obstacles are not endpoints, but hurdles to be cleared with grit and grace. That lesson became my own fuel, driving me to overcome academic and financial pressures with the same tenacity I saw in her. This lived experience is precisely why I am pursuing sociology. I witnessed economic disparity not as an abstract concept but in the stark contrasts within my own Texas community. I understood the strains on single parent families not from a textbook, but from the quiet worry I saw in my mother’s eyes. I now plan to use this intimate understanding to make a tangible impact. My goal is to become a community advocate who translates sociological research into actionable support, such as creating mentorship programs and financial literacy resources for families like mine. I want to ensure that resilience is met with community support. I am already building this future. Beyond my sociology coursework, I actively volunteer with a local after-school program in a low-income neighborhood. There, I tutor students and listen to their families' struggles, ensuring my academic drive remains grounded in real-world need. I am also seeking internships with social service agencies to understand the mechanics of effective aid. Every step I take is a deliberate move toward transforming personal struggle into community strength, using the lessons from my past to build a more equitable future.