The first time I understood the American Dream had conditions attached to it, I was sitting in a school library during a college readiness workshop. Everyone around me moved through applications with ease while I stayed stuck on a question asking for a Social Security number. I went home that day with a clearer understanding of how access shapes opportunity before ambition even gets a chance to speak. At home, my parents treated struggle as something to endure, not announce. My father left before sunrise and returned after dark, still asking about my education as if it carried more weight than his exhaustion. My mother balanced work and family responsibilities while still showing up for people in our community who needed help. That mindset shaped how I moved forward. I did not wait for opportunity to appear. I built spaces where others could experience it. I founded Activism 4 Change to create a student-led space focused on immigrant voices, civic awareness, and community action. The goal was turning awareness into organized service. Through this group, I led conversations on immigration experiences, education barriers, and identity, then translated those conversations into action projects that supported local families. Alongside this, I worked with the Sugar Land Youth Student Council, helping organize service projects that supported families across the community. These efforts included food distribution events, youth leadership initiatives, and school-based programs that connected students to real community needs. In every role, I saw the same pattern. Many immigrant families carry heavy responsibility but receive limited representation in decisions that affect them directly. One moment from Activism 4 Change stays with me. After a meeting, a younger student remained behind and shared that he felt constant pressure to succeed while also feeling disconnected from both school and home expectations. He described living between two worlds, where neither fully understood him. I understood him without needing explanation. Many immigrant students grow up in that space, translating for parents, adjusting to new systems, and carrying expectations from multiple directions at once. We talked for a long time. That moment clarified my direction. Service creates support. Policy creates scale. Immigrant families do not only need encouragement. They need systems that recognize their reality, protect their stability, and expand access to education, legal resources, and opportunity. My definition of the American Dream is the ability to transform lived experience into public responsibility, especially for communities that remain overlooked in decision making. My long-term goal is to enter politics and public service with a focus on immigrant rights, education access, and community representation. I want to work in spaces where policies are shaped so families like mine do not face barriers simply because of status, background, or lack of information. Winning The American Dream Scholarship would directly support my education and reduce financial pressure that limits long-term focus. It would also strengthen my ability to expand Activism 4 Change into a larger platform that connects student voices to civic engagement and advocacy. More importantly, it would move me closer to a future in public service where I can help build systems that do not exclude immigrant families from opportunity but actively include them in shaping it. The American Dream, to me, is collective progress built through service, representation, and long-term commitment to communities too often left out of the conversation.

I remember the day Mr. Haji handed me a worn copy of The Hobbit like it was a treasure chest waiting to be opened. The classroom smelled of old books and chalk dust and for a moment I felt like Bilbo stepping out of his door into a world I didn’t fully understand yet. I read under my blanket at night with a flashlight, imagining mountains taller than my school and rivers wider than the streets of my neighborhood, and I learned that adventure begins with curiosity and courage. Books became my secret map to understanding myself and my world. I was the kid who asked too many questions in class and stayed late to help my younger cousins read, because I wanted them to know that stories can give you strength when the world feels small. One rainy afternoon I helped my cousin Mariam sound out a page of Charlotte’s Web and when she finally said the words aloud I saw her chest puff with pride and I realized that helping someone learn is more thrilling than any story I could read alone. I have failed many times. I tried out for the school science fair and my project fell apart when the wires overheated and the tiny motor sparked and smoked. I could have quit, but I remembered Bilbo climbing mountains and fighting trolls and I tried again, this time building the lamp from scratch and teaching myself what I had gotten wrong. That failure became the first page of a story I would write with my own hands, and it taught me that mistakes are not the end, they are the beginning of learning. Mr. Haji has been my mentor, showing me that knowledge is magic and patience is the map. He taught me to read between the lines, to notice the courage in a character or a friend, to ask questions when the answer is not obvious, and to believe that even a small hand can change a story. I want to be that mentor for others, helping students discover worlds inside books and inside themselves. I am unique because I carry a love of adventure and learning in a body that sometimes feels different. I am a first-generation student in a family that doesn’t always understand my dreams, and I am proud of the ways I have built bridges in my community through tutoring, volunteering at the library, and sharing books with kids who would otherwise have none. I plan to continue this journey, reading, learning, and helping others discover the courage and magic that comes from opening a book and believing in yourself

Between the cultures of Mumbai through my Mother and London from my Father, growing up in Toronto before moving to Houston, while studying at international schools, I learned early how to adapt. However, this adaptation became a responsibility when the kitchen table started filling with immigration documents and legal paperwork. I remember my parents asking me to translate different forms that I barely understood. These experiences sparked my interest in political science by showing me the impact they have on people's lives. From this, I noticed how perspectives change when immigrants better understand and feel more comfortable with the political system. Individuals are able to become a part of the community and make a difference through this understanding. This shaped how I view the world today. I collaborate across communities, facing individuals with humility and guiding them through processes that are unfamiliar and intimidating, like I did with my family. A few weeks ago, I helped my neighbor with housing forms by explaining each section in her language. This moment reminded me how small actions can make life easier for the people around us. In Houston, this understanding compelled me to engage with the community. Interning for a local commissioner and taking IB Global Politics HL (the only politics course), I focused on immigration policies like Texas SB4 and Operation Lone Star while conversing with activists and council members. This motivated me to create an immigrant business panel within my school, where local entrepreneurs could share their stories about economic pressures, language barriers, and societal differences that affect their livelihoods. These stories changed my perspective about immigration: it's about the people rather than the politics. Beyond this, I decided to create a lasting impact on the community. Posting interviews on social media and publishing articles on these immigrant owners stories helped raise awareness of the impact they have on the Houston community. Through political science, the lessons learned both in school and in the real world, have shown me that the challenges immigrants face are not isolated. Rather, they are a broader result of systematic barriers that make it harder for immigrants to survive in resources and exclusion. Over time, I plan to move beyond helping individuals and striving towards making these systematic changes in the real world, to ensure that others like myself, don't face the difficult struggles when moving to a new country. Beyond immigrants, there are also many other underrepresented groups that I hope I can help in the future through my education in history, cultural anthropology, political science and geography to make the world a better place. Growing up between cultures has taught me that meaningful change starts with listening to people's stories clearly, before trying to help them. Through studying political science, I hope to support other immigrant families by making these complex systems more accessible, helping them navigate legal documents with confidence. The lessons I learned on that kitchen table will be brought into every community I engage with.