As a Kazak-American, I’ve often had to navigate spaces that felt unfamiliar and sometimes unwelcoming. One experience that truly shaped me was when I challenged the expectations placed on me as a member of an all-girls robotics team. We faced an obstacle that was more than just technical—it was about access and representation. We didn’t have our own practice facility like most other teams. Instead, we had to drive half an hour to use a boys' school’s space, twice a week. This not only limited our time to build robots and develop our skills, but also made it harder to foster the teamwork needed to succeed. At first, we accepted the situation. After all, we were passionate about robotics, and our team was determined to prove that girls could excel in STEM. But as the season went on, I realized how much this setup was hindering our potential—not just for us, but for other girls who might want to join robotics in the future. It felt like a barrier that was keeping us from reaching our full potential. One day, at a regional competition, I saw an opportunity to speak up. While chatting with one of the female judges, I shared our frustration. I explained how traveling to practice affected our focus and how it could discourage girls from pursuing robotics. I didn’t expect much from the conversation, but the judge listened with genuine interest. She asked thoughtful questions, and I could tell she really understood what we were going through. In that moment, I realized that our situation wasn’t just about us—it was part of a larger issue of gender inequality in STEM. A month later, something unexpected happened: an anonymous donation was made to our school’s robotics program, allowing us to build our own practice space. I don’t know for sure if the judge played a role, but I truly believe that by sharing our story, we started a ripple effect. It felt like our voices had been heard—and that’s when I realized how powerful speaking up can be, even when you feel like your voice is too small to make a difference. This experience taught me so much about the importance of advocacy. I had always assumed that things were the way they were because that’s how they had always been. But I learned that change doesn’t come from accepting the status quo—it comes from challenging it. I also realized how important it is for women, especially in male-dominated fields like robotics, to support each other and lift each other’s voices. Our team didn’t just survive—we thrived, and we became a beacon for other girls who wanted to get involved in STEM. As a Kazak-American immigrant, I’ve seen firsthand how important it is to break down barriers and make space for others. These lessons in perseverance and advocacy have shaped my future goals, especially my desire to work in a field where I can continue to promote diversity and equality. My experiences have taught me that while the road may be difficult, the change we seek starts with us—and that’s a lesson I’ll carry with me throughout my life.

I’m adopted, but it’s never felt like I was anything other than his daughter. My dad has been my rock, teacher, biggest fan, and guide. Even though we don’t share the same DNA, our bond is deep—built on love, patience, and shared experiences. One of our favorite things is Star Wars. When I was little, I didn’t understand the hype. But he sat me down to share this part of his childhood, and from the first lightsaber duel, I was hooked. It’s not just about the movies to him—it’s about showing me that even in tough times, there’s always hope and redemption. Now, we have Star Wars nights where we debate scenes or quote lines back and forth. It’s our thing—something that ties us together. My dad’s been there for all the big moments, like when I learned to drive. I remember sitting behind the wheel, hands shaking, worried about what could go wrong. But my dad? Calm, patient, encouraging. He never yelled or got frustrated—just reminded me to breathe, focus, and try again. He taught me that mistakes aren’t failures, just steps toward growth. It’s not just about driving—it’s about believing in myself and not letting fear hold me back. He’s also been at every school event, sports game, and milestone. No matter how busy, he always found time to cheer me on. Whether it was volleyball or track, I could always look up and see him in the crowd, clapping and rooting for me. It wasn’t just about the event—it was feeling his love and knowing he believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. Some of our best memories are at Disney. We recently ran the Disney 5K and 10K together. Crossing the finish line side by side, I felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t just about the race—it was about the encouragement, the laughter, and the highs and lows we shared. He taught me that anything is possible if you keep pushing. Adoption has been one of the most significant parts of my life. It’s not just about being brought into a family—it’s about being chosen. My dad chose me every single day, and that’s shaped how I view relationships and life’s challenges. He’s taught me the power of unconditional love and the importance of finding a place where you truly belong. I’ve never felt anything less than loved, and that’s the foundation of everything I do. It’s because of him that I’ve decided to pursue a degree in business. He’s shown me the value of hard work, creativity, and risk-taking. His belief in me motivates my academic and career goals, and his support is always there—whether brainstorming ideas or just listening. The Tony Alviani Memorial Scholarship would mean so much to me—not just for the financial help, but as a way to honor the man who shaped my life in ways I can’t fully express. Every accomplishment reflects his love, belief in me, and the lessons he’s taught me. Though we don’t share blood, the love we share is stronger than anything. He is, and always will be, my dad.