Community is a very important aspect of life, and I believe that there is no better way to get involved in a community than through volunteering. You get the lucky opportunity to not only help a community, but help yourself, better your morals, and make new friends. Volunteer experience has improved my character and influenced my future, especially in terms of zoology, which I plan to pursue in the future. Being the president of the student council, I love doing service for others. When my peers approach me with suggestions or complaints, I always take them to heart and try my utmost to fulfill their requests. Nothing gives me more joy than seeing the positive results of my efforts, so I find myself volunteering often. Every volunteer opportunity is such a unique and fun experience that is not only educational but rewarding as well. Some of my favorite volunteer experiences in the past have been chaperoning children at equestrian lessons, helping with our county-wide SoloFest, and ZooTeens. ZooTeens is a local program at the Seneca Park Zoo that has truly changed my life. It has not only inspired me to take up more volunteer opportunities but influenced my career and future. My love for animals has increased with my time at the zoo and I plan to study zoology in college. At ZooTeens, we educate and interact with the public by playing fun, informational games about our zoo and animals. I’ve done this for four years now, averaging about 40 hours a summer. It truly is such a joy getting to meet new people and share information and I’ve never enjoyed a volunteer experience more. I was motivated to get involved with ZooTeens by my desire to learn more about animals. It ended up being one of the best decisions of my life! In the time I have done ZooTeens, there have been challenges, but they have always been valuable learning opportunities. One such challenge I faced was improving my communication and public speaking skills. As a ZooTeen, we had to talk to the public constantly about the zoo and our animals, and sometimes we encountered obstacles such as information we didn’t know or questions we couldn’t answer. ZooTeens helped build my confidence in such situations, teaching me that it was okay to admit I didn’t know something, or direct the guests to other sources where they could receive better information. ZooTeens also taught me how to work with children. Being the youngest child, my interactions with children have been few and far between my whole life. As you might expect, they flooded the zoo daily. I am extremely grateful for the experiences I had with the children at the zoo, as they taught me how to be confident, friendly, and kind to those younger than me. As I go to college this fall, I will be too old to participate in ZooTeens and will have to say goodbye. This is a sad moment for me after four years of participation, but I know it won’t be the end of my community involvement. In the future, I want to participate in as many internships, volunteering experiences, and research opportunities as possible. There are many environmental initiatives that provide community experience, such as picking up litter and group gardening and composting. These will help me become ingrained in my college community while also improving the environment. Volunteering has truly influenced my life and will continue to do so for the better.

In this complex world, I find that there are many values that people hold dear. The values that personally influence me the most are service, kindness, and a passion for learning. There are many examples of how these attributes affect me in my learning, my interactions with others, and my aspirations for the future. Being the president of the student council, I love doing service for others. When my peers approach me with suggestions or complaints, I always take them to heart and try my utmost to fulfill their requests. Nothing gives me more joy than seeing the positive results of my efforts, so I find myself volunteering often. Every volunteer opportunity is such a unique and fun experience that is not only educational but rewarding as well. Some of my favorite volunteering experiences in the past have been chaperoning children at equestrian lessons, helping with our county-wide SoloFest, and ZooTeens. ZooTeens is a local program at the Seneca Park Zoo that has truly changed my life. It has not only inspired me to take up more volunteer opportunities but influenced my career and future. My love for animals has increased with my time at the zoo and I plan to study zoology in college. At ZooTeens, we educate and interact with the public by playing fun, informational games about our zoo and animals. I’ve done this for four years now, averaging about 40 hours a summer. It truly is such a joy getting to meet new people and share information and I’ve never enjoyed a volunteer experience more. I plan to study Zoology in college, which I’m both excited and nervous for. I’m exuberant about getting to study my major and get field experience, but I will admit the issue of funds causes some anxiety for me. My parents have always tried to support my two older brothers and I, but as my brothers have faced unforeseen challenges in college, there are not many resources left for me. I do not resent my brothers or parents for this, I only hope that I can find the means to pursue my dream in the future. My parents have done good in the way they brought up my brothers and I. One such thing they taught me that I have pride for is kindness. Bullying has always been an intolerable insult to not only the victims, but to them as parents. As such, we learned that it was unacceptable, and we must take steps to prevent and stop it where we could. In elementary school, I had a friend who was especially cruel towards another child. This was my best friend and a kid that I barely knew, but I knew what she was doing was wrong and that I had to stand up for him. With this brave action, the situation was able to be resolved peacefully, rather than further harassment continuing. In the present day, I combat bullying by inspiring those around me to be confident and kind. I don’t interact with children on a daily basis, but I often see them while volunteering. I teach kindness, empathy, and assertiveness by being an example for them. When one child is being hurtful towards another, I find it important to swiftly shut that behavior down and discourage it from happening again in the future. Kindness is a very important core value of mine, and it is essential in our society. Service, kindness, and education are some of the most important things in my life. They are values that affect me daily and will continue to do so in the future.

As a kid, one of my least favorite movies of all time was High School Musical. Not because of the songs (they were awesome), or the love story, but because of Troy Bolton. My tiny, prepubescent body was filled with rage at his irritable face (sorry, Zac Efron) and glorified bowl-cut, because he was good at basketball. Or, no, that’s not completely accurate. Because he was the coach’s son, and the star player and captain of the basketball team. This one, tiny detail was enough for me to forsake the movie. Growing up with two brothers that were in basketball and two parents that coached, it wasn’t exactly an option to join a team. I hated Troy Bolton because he was the typical coach’s son: good at basketball, a leader on the team, a role model for his peers. Everything my brothers were and everything I wasn’t. As the coach’s daughter, I definitely had special treatment, but not in a good way. Everything I did was under extra scrutiny, every ball I threw and rebound I failed to receive. My father made a point to loudly proclaim me as “Flat Foot Falk” for the entire team to hear almost every day. My mother had me shooting until the sun started to sink in the sky. And yet, for all my whining, crying, and fury, I look back on my years of basketball with nothing but fond memories. The most important part of it all, the thing that sticks in my head and brings a smile to my face- my teammates. Although I was the coach’s daughter, and not nearly the best player on the team, they never looked at me with scorn or disgust. When my parents lingered with judgmental stares, they’d set me up for a clear shot. I never found myself so determined to prove myself, so desperate to be good that I couldn’t pass to my teammates when they shouted for me with a smile. Everything that made basketball amazing was my teammates. My last year of basketball, we had the best team yet. I had finally found my place as the center, about three inches taller than most of the girls (why do you think basketball ran in the family?) We had gotten further in the tournament than ever before- the semi-finals. With half a minute left in the game, I missed a rebound and the other team got a point in. We had lost. I remember taking my shoes off and being fixated on the laces. Just as I was sinking into the madness of despair, our power-forward plopped herself down on the chair next to me, told me I did a great job, and began unlacing her shoes. It’s the way that she said it that stuck with me. It wasn’t a pitying reassurance, but a genuine compliment. It turns out that with the weird way the tournament worked, since another team lost, we went to the finals anyway. We played against a team that we only had losses against from the regular season. There was no grand buzzer beater, no movie-moment where I landed a three-pointer in the last seconds. We won because the team worked together. I learned from my years of basketball that it doesn’t matter how good or bad you are or who your family is. The only thing that matters is teamwork. By the end of the game, we were sweaty, cheering messes of girls holding the trophy together, weightless in all our hands. In that moment, I had a weird urge to sing “We’re All in This Together.”

My name is Katie Falk, even though my birth application will tell you that it’s Kate. Every single member of my immediate family, including the dog, has four letters in their name. That’s usually my icebreaker or fun fact I share on the first day of school. Recently, I’ve been wondering if I’m ever going to be asked to share a fun fact about myself again. I don’t know if they do that anymore in college. Sometimes it feels like the world is slipping out from underneath my feet, changing before I can do anything about it. My mom has always said that I hate change, but that’s not true at all. I hate when change happens that I can’t control. I love to change the world. I could look outside my window right now and spot ten or so things I’d love to change. I’d change the dullness of the stars as the sun slinks behind the rows of suburban houses, make them gleam brighter in the indigo sky. I’d change the loud revving of my neighbor’s sports car that sends birds into the air. I’d change the scent of the air. It smells like smoke. It doesn’t usually smell like smoke, but the winter chill coaxes sparks out of chimneys. I could sit by the window, watching the wisps of tainted air disappear into the clouds, or I could do something about it (this is me doing something about it, or taking the first step in doing so). You know where else smells like smoke? The city of Buffalo. Or, well, smoke isn’t quite right. It smells like exhaust and smog. It feels like plastic underfoot, tastes like chewed-up cigarette buds left on the concrete. Worst of all, it sounds like my mom gushing about her birth city, recounting memories and nudging encouragements for me to like it as well. Last month I was accepted in Canisius College, one of dozens of colleges in the city. Just because this college has a zoo nearby and an awesome Animal Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation program doesn’t make it smell any less like smoke. Buffalo is ranked 139th worst in the nation for short-term particle pollution. Compared to some other cities, that isn’t half bad. But compared to the suburbs or countryside? Not great. The first college I ever visited was SUNY Oswego, and in my opinion, it was perfect. We went on a warm autumn day when there were almost no clouds in the sky. Lake Ontario was a cool blue, lapping gently at pale beaches. The city has clean energy and actively works on its environmental issues. The classes looked amazing, the dorms were… dorms, and lunch was awesome. I instantly wanted to go. Almost a year later, my college search was slow and uninspired, because why would I need to search for other options when I already found somewhere I wanted to go? Still, thanks to my mothers nagging, I caved and visited Canisius. I couldn’t deny that the classes and opportunities were awesome for my aspirations. But the city still smelled like smoke. I think I’ve always wanted to become a conservationist. It wasn’t a big decision I made one day; it was just there in the back of my mind since the first time I visited the zoo. I looked at the scale on each of the animals’ posters, the red lettering of “ENDANGERED” on animals that were so beautiful and precious. When I reached the end of middle school, I started volunteering at the zoo every summer, forming bonds and relationships with these animals that the looming threat of extinction hung above. Eventually I became too old to volunteer at the zoo, so I became a Wildlife Rehabilitator. I was changing things, educating people, helping animals, but that lingering scent of smoke trailed everywhere I went. It came off littered bottles, leaked out of plastic bags, even came seeped into my kitchen when someone carelessly left the water running down the drain. I was changing things, but not enough. And the world was changing faster than I could keep up with it. Now I’m stuck at a crossroads. To stop a pain, it only makes sense to fix the wound, the smoke that seeps out of the city. In Canisius, I could make an impact in a place that needs it more. But even as I write this essay I can’t help but yearn for Oswego, where I could do field work at Rice Creek, take samples out of Lake Ontario, and join the fishing club (I do love fishing!). That’s the reason after a month of having acceptances and scholarships from both schools, I haven’t made my decision yet. Whichever college I go to, I’ll sign my name as Kate on all my forms and introduce myself as Katie. I’ll seek out stars from my window and target sources of light pollution so they can shine brighter. I’ll reduce noise pollution so the birds can sit in their branches undisturbed. And one day, I’ll walk outside to the fresh smell of cool, clean air.

When I was a kid, my parents were desperate for me to play a sport, and I think this was the first time they were truly disappointed in me. Growing up with two older brothers and two fit parents, I was enveloped in the sports and fitness world. Both my mom and dad were basketball coaches, and both my brothers were point guards. Me? I was usually on the wrong end of the court, dizzy from trying to catch up. I had dropped cheerleading, soccer, and softball before middle school. In each sport I found the hot summer heat bearing down on a boring activity. Most of the girls weren't unfriendly, necessarily, there was just a lot of distance between us. Literally. I usually picked at the dandelions at the far side of the field. It was fifth grade, after five straight years of playing basketball, that my parents finally let me quit. I was over the moon! After five years of painful, slick-back ponytails, smelly shoes, and rationed Gatorades, I was finally free. With all this free time, I was able to throw myself into something I truly enjoyed- video games. My parents were not thrilled. It wasn't until seventh grade that I even entertained the idea of joining another sport. I don't even remember what made me join tennis- I had no friends on the team and my parents had all but given up on me. But one day I found myself on the court, hand-me-down racket missing tennis balls. The "try-outs" weren't try-outs at all because we barely had enough girls to form a proper team. Instead, it was our first day of practice, where we went over how to hold the racket ("...No, Katie, you're supposed to hold the end of the handle..."). Needless to say, we were all horrible. Throughout the two years I played in middle school, I never won a single match. So why would I continue playing? Because every time we went to an away game, we sung "Sweet Caroline" together. Because everyone had special tennis nicknames. Because our team group chat kept buzzing until 10pm. Because we lost every single game we played, and we lost as a team. I made friends that I've kept all throughout high school from tennis. People I never would've interacted with became my best friends. The reason I've kept playing tennis, all the way to senior year, is because the friendships I've made. Tennis, even though it is a very independent sport, was the most supportive team in our whole school. In basketball, if I missed a shot and fell on my face, everyone knew whose fault it was when the opposing team walked away with the trophy. In tennis, I lost, and could walk right over to the next court and cheer for my teammates. No loss ever tore us apart, and if we won? Expect a party. Tennis means everything to me and taught me so many valuable lessons about friendship and perseverance. If I could go back and talk to that little kid on the basketball bleachers, I wouldn't say a word to her. Everything would fall into place within a few years. I would stick around to watch her trip over her shoes, though.

I remember a bright Sunday morning, sitting in the back of my dad's truck, swinging my legs to the blaring music playing. My dog had his head out the window and barked at me whenever I jumped off the slowly moving cargo bed and stumbled on the pavement. Neighbors with familiar faces but unknown names waved as I ran up to them. I grabbed the bags they held, shouted my thanks, and hauled them over my shoulder, running to catch up to the truck. The condensation of each plastic bag further wet my sweaty shirt. It took three trips to transport every bag to school for the annual Music Boosters Bottle and Can drive. Each time we stopped by, kids my age smiled and waved with gloved hands. That day is coated in golden sunshine and sweet-scented sweat in my memories. But that was a fundraiser, technically, not community service. I could talk about the hours I spent selling concessions and running around with pizza boxes to get volunteer hours, but that wouldn't be right either. Although community service does an excellent job of bringing people together, I think my most profound experiences with it are the ones I spent in solitude. There is a path in the woods behind my local church where teenagers hang out to drink and smoke to the sound of chapel bells. My friend and I would explore back there, carefully avoiding the pieces of broken glass and cigarette butts. We played cards in the dirt and ran over the dirtbike trails. The litter didn't disturb me until I noticed a squirrel investigating a Dr. Pepper can, sticking his little paws through the opening. The next time my friend and I walked those trails, the garbage and glass were mysteriously gone. I never told her that I picked up that litter, and I'm not sure why. Shame? Why would one be ashamed of such a thing? She wouldn't have been offended, and she wouldn't have thought I was less cool. If anything, she probably would've helped if I asked her. But some part of me just didn't want to share the noisy nature of the woods when I stopped to listen. The buzzing of mosquitoes searching for dinner in the muggy summer air, the squirrels rustling in their branches overhead. Not one of them would thank me, no friend of mine would say it was a good thing to do. No money would be raised, no volunteer hours earned. The profitless moment in which I gathered detritus into bags was a unique one, where I did a good thing for the sake of being good.