When I think of my chosen field, the arts, I first must consider that perhaps arts chose me. There is a video of me aged about three, playing the piano loudly and looking into the camera triumphantly every few seconds. The video exists to this day. That video is not a noisy toddler making a racket at her grandfather’s piano, with fingers that were probably sticky. No, that video is the birth of my artistic expression. My love of arts is not just musical. I love the fine arts, where joy can seep through a paintbrush. I love the visual arts, where pain can find release through the hands of a sculptor. I love the performing arts, where a young girl who has long felt alone in this world, can hold the attention of that very same world just by placing her hands on a piano. In my pursuit of this field, I hope to help people find themselves. That’s because the arts seem to ask everyone the same question; what best reflects the true you? For those bold enough to answer the question, there is a release in the arts. Permission to enter another realm and to freely express yourself there. To help me stay the course, I will remind myself of the release arts allows, that other careers sometimes do not. I will remember that gifts are gifted for a reason, and that I was gifted with creativity for a reason. My desired impact lies in giving the world the most authentic version of myself, and encouraging people to step into who they are, fully. Because that is the only happy existence there is. It may seem odd, but my mother somehow knew to introduce me to the arts before I took my first breath. She used to play classical music in the home throughout her pregnancy, putting the speaker next to her growing tummy. Today, can it be coincidence that I am a classical pianist, but also a dancer, singer, budding composer and producer? My mother was the catalyst for it all. I think of the times she encouraged me when the kids at school used to say that if you didn’t major in science, you wouldn’t major in life. I think of her patience when I would be very anxious ahead of a recital. I think of her encouragement to this day when I dance, sing, or even I rap. Giving me the same warm, loving smile whether I am playing a rousing Beethoven piece, or spitting Kendrick Lamar bars. While my route to self-actualization is no easy route, because we artists work as hard as anyone else, it is a route that makes me feel in step with my own soul. To the toddler banging away on Grandad’s piano, I say bravo. To the mum who didn’t shush me and tell me to go and play with my dolls, I say bravo. To the incredible future that awaits me, ‘arts and all’, I say bravo!

I grew up in a big, big world, with only my brave, brave mother. Living with just my mom - and I’m an only child - has affected me differently over the years, depending what stage of life I was at. As a child, special events like Father’s Day at school came with great discomfort; even confusion and shame. I did have a father, out there somewhere. Knowing he was out there made me go between leaning heavily on my mother because she was my everything, and pulling away from her because she wasn't my father. But in my calmer moments, I’d see that my living situation wasn't that different. I ate, bathed and slept. I watched Peppa Pig and High School Musical. I cried, danced, and laughed. I had help with my homework, fed my pet and did chores. Only Father's Day ever really affected me. Then, there’d be something that felt like a hot cloud all over me, uncomfortable and oppressive. It's strange how something that is NOT there - a father - can be so 'present' in his absence. He was so present, in his absence. As much as I did sometimes feel “different” from the rest, my mother took excellent care of me. It wasn’t visible that I was living in a single-parent household. I still took part in many school activities, excelling in most, especially sports and music. I went on all the school field trips - one signature from a parent or guardian was enough - and still received as much love from my one parent as my friends received from their two. Father's Day was exactly that – it was for those who had fathers. I had a mother and Mother's Day was and remains one of the most special days of the year to me. Going into high school, I completely let go of the fact that I fell into the “kids of single parents” category. Again, I was no different from the kid next to me in, say, Physics or French class. We both failed assignments and we both passed others. Teachers yelled at me, and they yelled at Josh who had both a mom and a dad. My mom never spoke a bad word about my father, she only would say he was a good man who had made some wrong decisions in life, and that I should focus on the love I did have, not the love I didn’t have. She never once described him as cruel, thankless or selfish – a narrative many other kids like me were given about their absent fathers. By my late teens, I knew that unless a father was loving, present, strong and protective, there was no advantage his children had. I'm now a college sophomore and even more thankful for my mom. ‘We’re a tiny family, but a lovely one’, she would always tell me, reminding me God was the ultimate father. People who perhaps regarded my father's absence as an issue, over the years came to realize it was just a circumstance - and there is a huge difference between issue and circumstance. How has this journey shaped me? I‘ve redefined 'normal', I‘ve redefined ‘family', and I‘ve redefined 'favor'. I’m glad I don’t have to fit expectations of turning out weak, unhappy, or damaged. I’m genuinely happy, and I’m magnetic! Raised by one parent, yet magnetic. My gratitude to my mom is expressed in me being exactly who she raised me to be - a strong, courageous, creative, sparkly, world-conquering, utterly special, totally lovable Khanyi. Raised by just her mother.

My field of interest is an unusual one, often triggering reactions. Eyebrows stay down when someone says they want to be a lawyer. Or a doctor. Perhaps an occupational therapist. But a performer? Heads turn, eyes stare, and eyebrows go up. Who wants to be a performer – and is that even achievable? I want to be a performer because I feel most like myself when I perform. It is closest to my heart-and-soul identity. My mom tells me that when I was a toddler, those around me were soon made very aware of my gift. There is a video of me playing the piano, hands all over the place, singing loudly, and looking into the camera triumphantly. There is some sheet music on the stand in front of me, which, halfway through my ‘performance’ I reach for and throw away in disdain. The video exists to this day. As does my performing spirit. So much has happened since then. I’ve picked up, blown into, plucked at, or banged on every musical instrument I’ve come across, eventually settling on what remains my primary instrument to this day, the piano. Everything about the piano is majestic. The way it looks and feels, its ability to produce everything from Bach to Bieber. Loving the piano then led to a love of performance altogether, which I now recognize as my raison d'être as the French say. The stage is so much more than a stage; it is my home. If I could be true to myself when filling out forms, in the address field I’d just put ‘The Stage’. Performing will never be just about me. It’s about sharing the magic of the moment with those present. Even if I am on the stage alone, with every note played or move made I invite the audience to become part of the magic. My career choice allows me to embrace people for who they are while celebrating who I am. Performing creates a ‘language’ that is understood by the doorman at the back, right through to the CEO in the front. The language created becomes a conduit for emotions that don’t even have a name. Where a performance has truly had an impact, the audience comes away more alive, their senses reawakened to the beauty of being here, now. My personal goals are very much linked to the lesson of courage I drew from my mother. Her courage was such that she created harmony in my life, in a tiny apartment bursting with love that could have blown the roof off. It was as though with only one instrument, she created a melody of happy moments for me. Do I seek fame and fortune? I seek, primarily, the fame of living an authentic life, and the fortune of being made one with my dreams. I must live an authentic life and that is why I have chosen this field. It’s so much more than a field of study…it’s a boulevard of fulfilled dreams.

My dream for my future often triggers raised eyebrows. Eyebrows stay down when people say they want to study medicine. Or engineering. Perhaps business science. Very acceptable and admirable fields. But the performing arts? Heads turn, eyes stare, and eyebrows go up. Who wants to be a performer – and is that even achievable? When I think of my love for the performing arts, I first must consider what was inside of me, the nature side, before the nurture side could play its part. Those who were around me when I was aged three, have a very vivid memory of me. There is a video of me playing my granddad’s piano, hands all over the place, singing loudly, and looking into the camera triumphantly every few seconds. There is some sheet music on the stand in front of me, which halfway through my performance I reach for and throw away, determined to play without guidance. I then hop off the piano stool, take to the floor, and perform something between a tap dance and a breakdance, quite convinced I am the best there ever was. That fire in me when I was three, exists to this day. It is often said we don’t always choose things in life – sometimes they choose us. Like a dove that decides to come and sit on our window, of all the windows in the neighborhood. I love performing for people whether I’m doing so as a pianist or a dancer, because I like the fact that I’m communicating with them in a universal, barrier-breaking language. I’m now formally studying at a college of music, knowing I’ve chosen this route because I feel most like myself when I perform. It is closest to my heart-and-soul identity and makes me believe I was given this gift for a reason. Performance does as much for me as it does for those watching me. I’m in my element, and those watching me are experiencing the pure, unbridled joy that radiates from me - and joy is contagious. I greatly admire performing artists from different eras…from Josephine Baker, to Nina Simone, to Alicia Keys. I admire them across the centuries - Beethoven continued playing even when he went deaf and his chair had to be turned around to face the audience, so he could see them applauding his brilliance. I’m also led to think of a wonderful dancer from the city I grew up in. He’s an amputee and uses a crutch to balance himself, performing flips and feats many able-bodied dancers cannot do. In the performing arts, we embrace exactly who we are. We’re not asked to sound like anyone, or move like anyone. We’re asked to sound like our soul and move like our being. Alongside all the science, technology, engineering, and mathematics students in this world, I too as an artist have my place in the sunshine. I too can lay claim to the rays of blessings the heavens throw down at us to gather up. I’m proud to be a performing artist and whether I am dancing alone or with others, my passion is evident. As a dancer, it’s in my movements. As a pianist, it’s in the beautiful relationship I create between the keys and my fingers. In the link to my dance clip, I’m the black dancer with the long braids, with fiery colors at the tips. Fire is my element, expressed not just in my art but even in my look. I hope you enjoy it because when I perform, that is the most authentic me.

Mine is a story of much, and little. When I was born, I was unaware of it, but I was in a fight for my life. I was born in a tiny clinic, with a deadly bacterial infection. My mother, who my father had abandoned months before, was told her little baby had a 10% chance of survival. I was born into a fight. But here I am today, a whole college student, still with fight in me, but very grateful for the opportunities life has given me. Coming from Africa, there is a lot about me only others from Africa would understand. There are certain African proverbs which have held such truth in my life, such as, "If you want to go fast go alone, but if you want to go far, go together." Or perhaps, "Once you carry your own water, you’ll remember every drop." I grew up with only my mother but was fortunate to also have other loving relatives. This extended family was like a cocoon around me, a blanket that helped lessen the chill of loneliness one sometimes feels as an only child. In my community, we learned to be there for each other in whatever way we could. Sometimes that meant sharing a juicy orange. Or sharing a home. Or just sitting with someone on the warm stones outside. There can be so much fulfilment, in what others perceive as basic. Through my mother’s hard work, I went to good schools and there I discovered my life purpose, performance. If I am not born to perform, I am unsure who I am meant to be. I knew as I was growing up, that choosing to study visual and performing arts would be a controversial decision. This made me yearn to study in the United States, where there is so much more acceptance for being who you were born to be. Where I’m from, there would be suggestions that I instead study nursing, or accounts, or engineering. I want to nurse my growing talent, I want to account to the Lord for the gift He has given me, and I want to engineer my destiny towards brilliance. And I knew the best place to do that would be the United States, where my ‘odd path’ would be celebrated, not tolerated. One of the greatest challenges I overcame was a massive loss in my life, that of my father figure. My real father chose to distance himself from before I was born, but when I was 7 my aunt married a wonderful man who became my father figure. For 10 blissful years he was in my life, attending my piano recitals, playing basketball with me and reminding me how special I was. In July 2019 he was diagnosed with cancer and early the next year, the only father figure I had ever known was called to heaven. To gain someone so wonderful, only to lose him, almost broke me. My Uncle Steve greatly inspired me and although I lost him physically, nothing has ever removed him from my heart. It is the kind of loss that should have left me scarred with pain, but instead left me seared with courage. After I graduate, I want to inspire others to be their authentic selves. The world will so often tell you who to be, when you should allow your soul to tell you who to be. Beyond graduation day, I must inspire others with my authenticity. In all my uniqueness, I must take to the stage and help people understand the beautiful connection between Africa and artistry.

K-Pop is the reason I feel so connected to my dream of performing. It is a constant reminder to me that dreams can and do come true. I have always been a fan of music, but I truly love the K-Pop genre with all my heart. It has moved me in ways that other musical genres have not. Not to say that these other musical genres do not have something special about them; they all do in that they are inspired by creativity, culture, emotion and history, but the uniqueness of K-Pop is particularly meaningful to me. K-Pop comprises many different groups and solo artists. For a long time, there was a great misconception the music sounds the same, when in fact each group or artist brings their own flavor and spice to their music. From the AI-influenced sound of Aespa, to the uptempo tracks from Twice, through to the iconic songs by EXO. As cliché as it may sound, my outright favorite K-Pop artist is Bangtan Sonyeondan, better known as BTS. It is likely that in the submissions for this scholarship, many other ARMY members (the BTS fan group), have expressed their adoration for the group. It is more than adoration for me. BTS has truly changed my life, and for the better. How this group impacted global culture is nothing short of amazing. Many, including myself, believe BTS paved the way for K-Pop artists. They made a huge breakthrough in western media that other K-Pop groups for generations were unable to do. Seven boys who sang predominantly in Korean, not a globally-spoken language, were often looked down on and laughed at, yet despite the hate, ploughed on. Eventually, they became the first Korean act to win an AMA, won the Billboard Music Award for Top Social Artist, and became the first and only K-Pop act to be nominated for a Grammy. To be able to sing in a completely different language and be nominated at the greatest platform for musical excellence, truly breaks down cultural barriers in music and in global society. They proved that language is only an obstruction if you make it one. At the end of the day, the music, melody and meaning of the lyrics, and the way everything comes together and makes you feel, is what really counts. BTS has proven you don’t need to come from the west, to be globally influential. You need not start with a bang and work with those considered ‘the best of the best’ – you can redefine what best is and go on to achieve greatness. All you need is discipline and determination, and your efforts will be rewarded. They have opened the door for countless K-Pop artists, creating a gateway into the Western world of music while exposing millions of people to the wonder of K-Pop. BTS has introduced me to a world where dance and music collide almost magically. I always felt pop music and culture in the Western media did not highlight the role dance plays in great performance. It initially made me doubt the music industry was for me. Then BTS came along and showed me that not only can dance be praised just as much as music, but that this movie-like form of performance can make it big in places like Hollywood. They’re a huge inspiration to me; they unearthed and consistently inspire my dream of performing. I aspire to work hard like they did and to keep going despite all circumstances. Following their story from the start, gives me the hope that incredibly hard work inevitably leads to incredible outcomes.

There is a book that has stood the test of time, and forever will. The most famous, most controversial, yet most loved piece of literary work. That would of course be the Holy Bible. It remains a bestseller to this day, firm testament to the glory in and on its pages, rightfully named the greatest collection of writings ever published. Yet, of course, many other pieces of writing have been produced over the millennia. As soon as I was old enough to sound one word after the other, I began to read. My first stories were Bible stories, and I remember how thrilling it was to read them out loud, having only heard them as bedtime stories from my mother. She had a low, rich, resonant voice, and the words she spoke to me in beautiful alto tones when I was tiny, now leaped onto pages in front of me. The stories were no longer words in the air, but actually appearing in front of me. I found myself particularly taken by fiction as I grew up. What I most enjoy about the fiction genre to this day, is that the author has ‘carte blanche’ and can go anywhere their creativity takes them. To the realm of the unbelievable if they so wish, to the depths of the unimaginable or the heights of the improbable. It need not be true, it just needs to be gripping. I loved that characters in fiction books could do and be anything they chose. For the author to have this incredible amount of control over the storyline makes the fiction genre extremely compelling. As someone with a creative imagination myself, this style of writing showed me that there are no boundaries to what you want in life. I found that as long as the most truthful book was always by my side as my spiritual compass – the Bible – I could freely delve into fiction and totally absorb myself in its limitlessness. In childhood books like Rapunzel, I enjoyed the ‘unreal’ aspects of fiction. The Brothers Grimm wanted the character to have hair that was eight times her body length, strong enough to carry a man, and she did. I would watch films where animals could talk, planets could be visited, and one could journey thousands of years into the future, or thousands of years back. Dragons that breathed fire, fire that streaked across water, water that took the form of mythical creatures. Through books and films, the idea of life having limits began to fall away. This then began to inspire me to reach for what seemed beyond my grasp. Fiction books literally helped me dream big. Even to this day, I know my dreams are above average; yet I wholeheartedly believe I can achieve them. With a positive attitude, discipline and perseverance, I can achieve anything. My chosen career relates to performance in particular. This is an unusual path to follow, but in the books and films I was exposed to, it wasn’t about what was possible. It was about what could be believed. Through my education, I plan on making a difference by showing people that ‘the race is not to the swift’. (Ecclesiastes 9:11). It is to those committed to their God-given path. I grew up in the third world, experiencing multiple setbacks, yet am determined to be one of the greatest in my field of study and passion. Just like the fiction book authors and fantasy film screenwriters, if I can see it, I can believe it, and if I can believe it, I can create it.

When I think of the influences that helped steer me towards the arts, I first must consider what was inside of me, the nature side of it, before nurture got to play its part. I don’t remember what I was doing around the age of three, but those who were around me certainly do. There is a video of me playing the piano, hands all over the place, singing very loudly, and looking into the camera triumphantly every few seconds. There is some sheet music on the stand in front of me, which halfway through my ‘performance’ I reach for and throw away in disdain; determined to play the piano without ‘guidance’. The video exists to this day. So much has happened since then. I picked up, blew into, plucked at, or banged on every musical instrument I came across, eventually settling on what remains my primary instrument to this day, the piano. Everything about the piano is majestic. The way it looks, the way it feels, and its ability to produce everything from Bach to Bieber. Loving the piano then took me into a love of performance altogether, which I now know is the perfect career for me. The stage is my home. If I could be true to myself when filling out forms, in the address field I’d just put ‘The Stage’. My stage presence covers piano playing, but also drums, acting, singing and various dance forms. Yes, I’ve had my fair share of stage fright, but sometimes it feels I’m frightened at the sheer beauty of it, rather than experiencing true fear. My journey with the arts has often triggered raised eyebrows. Eyebrows stay down when someone says they want to be a lawyer or a doctor. But a performer? Heads turn, eyes stare, and eyebrows go up. Who wants to be a performer – and is that even achievable? Well, I do. I want to be a performer. Not to be different, but to be true to my identity. And that is why I am at an arts college, a music college to be precise. Immersed in everything that speaks to my soul. I am passionate about the arts because, in a sense, it was first passionate about me. I feel like I was ‘sighted’ from far off…as though from the universe, a laser beam deliberately sought me out and lovingly locked me in as a target. With my gifts, I want to help people rediscover joy and contentment, and be more able to find their own identity. The arts allow you to lay aside the brutality of the world, because beautiful though it may be, the world has brutality to it. When you step into the arts, you get to lay that brutality aside or, by the same token, deal with it properly. Not enough people are just themselves, but when you see the way people in the arts are so determined to just be themselves, it does away with some of the rigidity of this world. The lofty expectations, the haughty attitudes, and the unhealthy comparisons. This scholarship topic makes mention of the fact that “arts and science have a coalition that many don’t understand or recognize.” How very true this is. And to me, that’s because, for an artist, their art is the science of their soul. And for the scientist, their science is an art form. Not only do arts and science have a coalition, they are in fact caught up in a beautiful dance, eyes locked on each other. A dance that will forever be mesmerizing to watch.

When I think of the influences that helped steer me towards the arts, I first must consider what was inside of me, the nature side of it, before nurture got to play its part. I don’t remember what I was doing around the age of three, but those who were around me at the time certainly do. There is a video of me playing the piano, hands all over the place, singing very loudly, and looking into the camera triumphantly every few seconds. There is some sheet music on the stand in front of me, which halfway through my ‘performance’ I reach for and throw away in disdain, determined to play the piano without guidance. The video exists to this day. So much has happened since then. I picked up, blew into, plucked at, or banged on every musical instrument I came across, eventually settling on what remains my primary instrument to this day, the piano. Everything about the piano is majestic. The way it looks, the way it feels, and its ability to produce everything from Bach to Bieber. Loving the piano then took me into a love of the performing arts altogether, which I now know is the perfect career for me. The stage is my home. If I could be true to myself when filling out forms, in the address field I’d just put ‘The Stage’. My stage presence covers piano playing, but also drums, acting, singing and various dance forms. Yes, I’ve had my fair share of stage fright. But the arts, quite simply, is my soul’s home. My journey with the arts has often triggered raised eyebrows. Eyebrows stay down when someone says they want to be a lawyer or a doctor. But a performer? Heads turn, eyes stare, and eyebrows go up. Who wants to be a performer – and is that even achievable? Well, I do. I want to be a performer. Not to be different, but to be true to my arty identity. And that is why I am at an arts college, a music college to be precise. Immersed in everything that speaks to my soul. With the arts, one tends to very closely scrutinize others who are in the same field, which has a good side to it but can also cause you to back into yourself, doubting your rightful place in the arena. When I was younger, I used to struggle in two particular areas – making comparisons and making excuses. That’s until my mom told me that comparisons erode self-appreciation. And she said that when you make excuses, you will eventually excuse yourself right out of the fulfilling life you’re supposed to lead. She says it's possible to excuse yourself right out of your God-given destiny. My journey in the arts has never had anything constant about it – there have been ups and downs, left and right turns. But by the same token, there has indeed been a constant all along. My calling. With my gift, I want to help people rediscover joy and contentment, and be more able to find their own identity. The arts allow you to lay aside the brutality of the world, because beautiful though it may be, the world has some brutality to it. When you step into the arts, you get to lay brutality aside or, by the same token, deal with it properly. My gift is not just for myself. It is needed by the world and will be appreciated the more I stand up and courageously follow the dream I was born to chase.

I grew up with only my mother, in a small four-roomed place. I realized we were low-income as soon as I was old enough to make sense of the fact that my mom often worked more than one job. The young me would get upset when she had to leave me with a sitter. Only later did I realize that she had two choices – stay with me every evening, or go to a second job to make sure rent and school fees were paid at the end of the month. My mother knew that growing up without a dad, I might be tempted to feel sorry for myself and she was determined to prevent this pity party from taking place. To get me to be more grateful for what I had, she deliberately exposed me to those much worse off than me. If my community was tough, she took me to tougher communities. If the toys I had were old, she showed me children with no toys. If I felt embarrassed about our tiny apartment, she showed me homeless people who would have given anything just for a warm box to crawl into. She also got me into volunteering. My volunteer and community work led to me developing a heart for other people, and an understanding that the person who reaches out to hand over a blessing, in the process receives one. Scholarships come about because someone has recognized the difference they can make by being a sower in life, not just a reaper. They exist because someone wants to give another person a chance to have their place in the sunshine of life, by stepping through the door of opportunity. Hyacinth Malcolm must have been a special lady because it is clear that educating her children was so important to her. She knew she had to get them through that "door". In fact, not just through the door, but up the stairs and onto the rainbow. In my teens, I researched some of the most inspiring things ever said about education and came upon my favorite by Nelson Mandela: “Education is the great engine of personal development. It is through education that the daughter of a peasant can become a doctor, that the son of a mineworker can become the head of the mine, that a child of farm workers can become the president of a great nation. It is what we make out of what we have, not what we are given, that separates one person from another.” I then began to ask myself, how can I use education as my “great engine of personal development”? I realized Mr. Mandela was saying we should deeply appreciate and lay hold of education because in it lies such freedom and the attainment of so many dreams. Reading his words, I knew that education, with all the hard work and sometimes tears it brought, would help me identify my way in life and become the best I could be. That "best", for me, is being a performer. Being educated and supported through scholarships will help me get the knowledge and skills I need to be a performer - which in turn will help me give the best of myself to this world. Winning this scholarship would be like someone holding my hand and saying ‘Khanyi, I believe in you.’ When people sow into your life, they are helping your garden grow, literally. A scholarship is so much more than just money. It represents kindness, concern and support. In a world of so many "Nos’, it’s a resounding ‘Yes!"

I grew up in both a single-parent and a low-income household. It’s quite sad to think that too often, the two come together. I grew up with just my mother. I did have a father, out there somewhere. Knowing he was out there made me go between leaning heavily on my mother because she was my everything, and pulling away from her because, well, she wasn't my father. But in my calmer moments, I’d see that even though I had just her, my life wasn't all that different from other kids. I ate, bathed, and slept. I watched Peppa Pig and High School Musical. I cried and got cuddled (or got scolded for crying). Home was just that, home. I realized we were low-income as soon as I was old enough to make sense of the fact my mom sometimes worked more than one job. The young me would get upset when she had to leave me with a carer. Only later did I realize she had two choices – stay with me every evening, or go to a second job to make sure rent and school fees would be paid at the end of that month. My mother knew that growing up without a dad, I might be tempted to feel sorry for myself and she was determined to prevent this pity party from taking place. To get me to be more grateful for what I had, she deliberately exposed me to those much worse off than me. If my community was tough, she took me to tougher communities. If the toys I had were old, she showed me children with no toys. If I felt down about the fact we were in a tiny apartment, when some of my friends lived in lovely houses, she showed me homeless people who would have given anything just for a warm box to crawl into. Going into high school, I completely let go of the fact that I fell into the “kids who grew up with single parents” category. Again, I was no different from the kid next to me in, say, Physics or French class. We both failed assignments and passed others with flying colors. Teachers yelled at me, and they yelled at Josh next to me - and he had both a mom and a dad. My being an only child who was strong and confident however seemed to give me an apparent “mysterious” vibe. A hum. The question is, how will I use this hum to positively impact the world around me? Well, I feel that no circumstance can put out the special light we all carry, and this is the message I want to take to the world. I want those around me to see that whatever ‘tags’ the world put on me – ‘Only Child’ / ‘Single-Parent Home’ / ‘Black’ / ‘Female’ / ‘Low-Income’ - have not held me back. For me to positively impact people I must not be ashamed to tell my story, but I must tell it with love, not shame. I want my life to tell a story of being your best self and running a good race, despite what the beginning of the race looked like. I want to give people hope and help them love themselves, not ever questioning their worth. That is my greatest desire, that through the way I live my life and the way I hold my head up, I inspire others who also were given tags to live their lives with hope, happiness, inner peace and self-acceptance.

I’ve learned one thing as I’ve grown up, which is that we grow through helping others do just that. There is something about being there for people, it seems to somehow make you stand taller. Not in a prideful way but you just feel a greater sense of purpose and joy. Volunteer and philanthropic work helps us step outside of ourselves. It does this by changing our worldview and pulling us away from excessive focus on all the things we feel are wrong with our world or our personal circumstances. When we do this, we put things in proper perspective and because we take a different view of reality, we apply a ‘different‘ and often better solution. I'm an only child, so being around others means so much to me. From the age of about 9, I did a lot of community service and volunteer work. I first made baked goods for children undergoing cancer treatment…it was quite difficult to go to a care center and see sick children and their parents, but on the flipside I had to appreciate the fact I was healthy and strong when others even younger than me were battling something as serious as cancer. I also for several years made sandwiches and warm meals for community sports teams, some of them made up of very disadvantaged children from underprivileged areas. They would come running off the pitch and find peanut butter and jelly sandwiches waiting, or a big pot of spaghetti bolognese, for a proper lunch. For some of them supper wasn’t waiting at home, so that lunch meant everything and I later understood why they would eat as much as possible. One of my best kinds of volunteer service involved caring for sick, abandoned or abused animals. I have a huge heart for animals, especially as I grew up in a small apartment with just my mother, and we could only have tiny animals like guinea pigs. Volunteering at an animal shelter helped the animals as much as it helped me. It helped them because I came by regularly to feed them, clean their pens and give them love. I even gave them names. And it helped me because where I lived was too small for a dog or cat – but then by volunteering I became a dog or cat ‘owner’, even if for a short while. Additionally, I have entertained old age home residents with my singing and have taught very young children art. I would never get frustrated as I knew someone there could be the next Picasso! Now as a college student, I am volunteering with my greatest gift, the gift of dance. I give free dance lessons and help kids prepare for auditions, school talent shows and the like. For as long as my legs work, I will give free dance lessons to anyone wanting them. We all give of ourselves in different ways and mine is movement. As a volunteer, you can contribute through grand, expensive gestures, yes. But small gestures have their place too. I hope that more and more people in this world stop writing themselves off as volunteers, feeling they have little or nothing to give to others. If ever I feel I cannot teach others to dance, that I can no longer help them paint, or bake cookies for them, I’ll volunteer my smile. Being there for others and expecting nothing in return, just somehow has a way of making life so much more relevant.

Performing is what I was born to do. I love performing because I can do what I love and make other people happy at the same time. What more could I ask for but to feel joy while giving joy? This is my true career because it is an expression of my truest self. I am a classical pianist, yet a hip-hop dancer. I am a singer, a poet and an actress. I am a performer. I’ve had my fair share of stage fright and forgetting the words/choreography; yet performing is still one of the things I do best, that brings me pure happiness. I know in my heart it’s the perfect career for me because it’s always on my mind. Come rain or shine, I’m ready to take a deep breath and step onto that stage. I have known what it is to struggle, but I was raised to appreciate what I do have. I come from a single-parent home, just a tiny four-roomed place, and I’m an only child. My mother is my mother, and my mother is also my father. Over the years I’ve observed her doing her best - sometimes blaming herself for being unable to ‘provide’ a loving, present father and to give me what others had - but always, as though it is her most important job, doing everything to put a smile on my face and make me believe in myself. I always remind myself that Alicia Keys also grew up with just her mom, and in a cramped apartment too. Look at her now. The God who saw her, also sees me. There are times my mom and I went without, but I never went without love and care. When I was younger, I would get upset at the things we didn’t have. Now I feel grateful for the things I realize I did have, and still do. My dreams for my future often trigger raised eyebrows. Eyebrows stay down when someone says they want to be a lawyer, a doctor or an engineer. Perhaps an occupational therapist. But a performer? Heads turn, eyebrows go up, whispers are heard. Who wants to be a performer – and is that even achievable? Well, I do. I want to be a performer. Not to be different, but to be true to myself. Winning this scholarship would be like someone holding my hand and saying ‘Khanyi, I believe in you.’ When people sow into your life, they are helping your garden grow, literally. If I won this scholarship it would take one less worry off my mind. I only want to worry about carving a wonderful path to graduation day and beyond. I don’t want to worry that there isn’t enough money to get that book my Acoustics prof says I need. A scholarship is so much more than money. It represents kindness, concern and support. In a world of so many ‘Nos’, it’s a resounding ‘Yes!’ I’m not on this earth just to benefit myself. My greatest desire is to make a difference in this world. This scholarship will help me focus on becoming a person of impact and excellence. It’s not just a scholarship, it’s part of a dream to become who I was born to be.

I always feel that in telling my life story, I must never convey self-pity. It’s important that while being truthful about my experiences, I still come across as grateful, hopeful and helpful. I hope I will do so here. I grew up in a big world, with only my big-hearted mother. Living with just my mom affected me differently over the years. As a child, special events like Father’s Day at school came with discomfort, confusion or shame – or all three. Every year on that day, there’d be something that felt like a hot cloud all over me...uncomfortable and oppressive. It's strange how something that is NOT there - a father - can be so 'present' in his absence. Such presence, born of such absence. During high school, I suffered from significant depression. Just as I was getting ready to do my college applications, two of my favorite uncles passed away from the same thing, cancer, within months of each other. For a year after I graduated high school, I could not go to college, because of lack of funding. Then my grandparents unexpectedly got a buyer for their home, and were able to help with college fees. They now can no longer do so, but although I may be hunting for funding, I am not hunting for myself. I know who I am, what I am worth and what I want to achieve. Yes it's true, I did not grow up privileged, as my mother and I struggled a lot and were always expected to fail at everything, not having a man in the home. But with my first-hand understanding of the discrimination single-parent households face, I now can stand strong as an example of rising above circumstance. Using my education will be critical because with it, I can sow back into the ‘village’ that raised me. But most importantly, I can look out for younger versions of myself and lift them up. Girls who are expected to fail because they only have their moms. Girls who have a special talent and combine it with hard work to make dreams come true. Girls who don't have many 'things', but have a lot of potential. I want to look out for younger versions of myself and help them find their way, find their favor. Favor is not necessarily a father. Favor is just that, favor. My education will truly help me help others in my community because there is empowerment that comes with education. Not only that, there is freedom that comes with education. Empowerment plus freedom, equals opportunity. And that’s what I feel I can give back to my community, because it’s the one thing you can’t put a price to. Opportunity.

As I begin this essay, I think of two things. Disco music – how 70's is that – and my mother. My mother never asked me to be who I am not. My five love languages are pretty much all identical – music – and to her this was a beautiful thing, not a thing of concern. In a world that pushes for science to be king, I remember the day I realised I wanted to formally study Visual and Performing Arts. When I finally told Mom, she calmly replied, ‘Girlie Pop, celebrate your colorful creativity and artistic flair. I need you to, and the world needs you to.' Growing up with just Mom means I was primarily exposed to just her music. We have this thing we do, my favorite cousin Tiffany and I, where we name an artist or band for every letter of the alphabet. So for A, I would say Abba. For B, Tiffany would say Bee Gees. For C, I said Curtis Mayfield. For D, Tiffany said Donna Summer. And on and on and on – featuring lots of names from the 70s because that’s precisely the music my mother was always playing in the house. Music is literally my oxygen. And that's why I'm now at a music college. I love performing for people and I feel most like myself when I perform. It's closest to my heart-and-soul identity. I first started performing at a very young age, more on the acting and ballet side. This was before I discovered my talent for K-pop dance, hip-hop and contemporary dance. I know in my heart it’s the perfect career for me because even when I’m tired, sick, or when I simply don’t have time for it, performance is always on my mind. Come rain or shine, I’m ready to head to the dance studio, put my hands on the ebony and ivory keys, or pick up the microphone and sing my heart out. Eyebrows stay down when someone says they want to be a lawyer, a doctor or an engineer. But a performer? Eyebrows go up, heads turn, eyes stare, whispers go round. After all, who wants to be a performer – and is that even achievable? Well, I do. I want to be a performer. Not to be different, but 'to be real' (another 70's song, by Cheryl Lynn). In all my passion though, I know enthusiasm alone is not enough. I need exposure to quality learning, I need to be around individuals able to train me, correct me, hone my talents and position me for lasting success. The Fans of 70's Popstars Scholarship makes me think of myself as my own fan and my own cheerleader. I am absolutely a fan of 70's music – thanks Mom! – but I also choose to back myself in this music game. This scholarship gives me the hope of being supported along a journey that sometimes feels scary; but never scary enough to make me lose my passion. I am so thankful for scholarships like this that give a young woman a chance to reduce college costs and pursue her dream. Yes, mine is an unusual dream. But to me, that just makes my future more beautiful…

Land of the free and home of the brave…I wonder if that’s what Maggie thought when she moved to the US all those years ago. I am sure that like me, she wanted to be in a much stronger economy that allows one to truly believe in themselves, especially as a woman. Yet I am also sure Maggie keenly felt the reality of not being a US citizen. I remember what my first semester was like…the utter loneliness, even though I was surrounded by other college kids. No one spoke quite like me, and some didn’t understand my expressions and mannerisms. I would merely say my name, and there would be questions. I wonder, how did people pronounce “Malgorzata Kwiecien”…was it with the same difficulty they say my name, Khanyisile Mandisa Maleshoane Malumo? But let her be Maggie and let me be Kay, for at heart we know who we are. Something else we certainly have in common, is our athleticism. I was born with a devastating bacterial infection that confined me to ICU for the first 18 days of my life, but then grew up excelling in nine sporting disciplines. Maggie was not afraid of physical challenges, and neither am I…it is strange that I will run from a spider, but have the fearlessness to leap from one rock to the next or charge straight into a huge opponent on the basketball court. What challenges did Maggie leave behind in Poland, I wonder, that made her move to the US? I know that I left behind many troubles in South Africa and that although it will always be my homeland, there are pains that come with living there, such as not having electricity and water for days, and being unable to walk around at night – the country is too unsafe. Like Maggie, I had a hope that in America I could become so much more than I could ever be at home. My interest in engineering is linked to the creative field. Engineering is fascinating in that it allows you to take what is already known and proven, and bring to it fresh thinking and endless innovation. You have permission to challenge, so that the knowledge base may grow. I like that Maggie was an engineer in particular, and although her life was cut short, I feel so sure she left a legacy that continues to inspire those she worked with. It makes my heart heavy that cancer in particular robbed us of Maggie. My Uncle Steve, my father figure, lost his life to urothelial cancer in 2020. It metastasized so rapidly it was like a quick, painful nightmare for our family. Cancer has no soul…no disease does but there is something about cancer, which I call the world’s most cruel disease. No affliction is quite as devastating to watch. My Uncle Steve came into my life when I was 6, and I lost him when I was 17. The only father I ever really had, although he was married to my aunt and not my mom. I hope those who loved Maggie, hold close to their hearts not the memory of her passing, but the memory of her living - a life lived with excellence and passion. Maggie realized her purpose not back home, but in her new home of America. My purpose will also be realized here. With all the challenges I have experienced trying to settle in this strange but beautiful land, I know this is where my dreams will become reality, this is where I will have lasting impact. Like Maggie did.

I want to be a performer not to be different, but to be true to myself and to give the most authentic version of myself to people. I love performing for people – it is closest to my heart-and-soul identity. When I dance for others, it does as much for me as it does for them. I am in my element on the stage and those watching me are enthralled. What more could I ask for but to feel joy while giving joy? I am blessed to be able to perform across different artistic expressions – I play classical piano and can positively impact through the incredibly calming effect of this kind of music. I play jazz piano and can positively impact through the sheer feel-goodness of jazz music. I play the drums and can add a magical layer of rhythm to a song. I play the marimbas and can bring African flair to the air. I dance and leap across the stage and can delight and enthrall. Perhaps each time I dance, I can take away someone’s pain just for that moment. And perhaps I can inspire them long after that moment, so that they go away and tap into their own passion. In one of my dance clips recorded in 2021, you can see right in my eyes my absolute love of performance. This is the joy I want to bring to others around me. Right now I just dance on a stage at college in Boston...but one day I want to dance on a world stage. The greatest of conductors do not just read and conduct music with total precision, they also write it beautifully, teach it, create a love for it and never stop exploring it. They are so much more than just conductors. Similarly, I want to be so much more than a performer and that’s why I practice my art forms relentlessly so I can draw the most from my gifts – enabling me to give the most to my future audiences. My full name, Khanyisile, means ‘The one who brings light’ I am determined to stay true to my name and bring light wherever I go. No light is made to benefit just itself. My dream is to create a ripple effect wherever I go and to inspire people such that they too light up, and light the person next to them.

I come from a single-parent family, and I am an only child. I have a father who exists, in name. My mother is my mother, but for a long time, my mother was also my father. I observed her doing her best - sometimes blaming herself for being unable to give me what others had - but always, as though it was her most important job, doing everything to put a smile on my face and make me believe in myself. My mother also deliberately exposed me to those much worse off than me. If my community was tough, she showed me tougher communities. If my toys were old, she showed me children with no toys. If I felt down about the fact we were in a tiny apartment, when some of my friends lived in lovely houses, she showed me homeless people who would have given anything just for a warm box to crawl into. She tried so hard…but I still always wanted a father. Then when I was 7, the most beautiful thing happened. Aunty Toa met a wonderful man from Virginia, my Uncle Steve. He was everything I dreamt of in a father figure though he was married to my aunty and not my mom. He loved me and told me so. He came to my basketball matches and my piano recitals. Made his great steaks for me and gave me the biggest piece. Told me how far I could go in life if I just applied myself. Made me laugh with his endless jokes. I was so, so happy. It was almost too good to be true, to be so loved and cared for by Uncle Steve. Life suddenly made a whole lot more sense. Then he started to get ill. It would be on and off. I’d be anxious when I heard he’d gone to the hospital yet again. About a year after he first fell ill, Aunty Toa told me he had cancer. Everything in me broke; I could not lose my dad. I panicked, prayed, then panicked and prayed again. I tried to be around him even though he was getting weaker and thinner. At some point, it was decided he needed to move near Johns Hopkins Hospital. That meant I had to say goodbye to him, hoping to see him again, healthy and whole. On April 19, 2020, my Uncle Steve died. Because of lockdown, I could not go to the funeral. The pieces of me that were already broken, broke into smaller pieces. I’d lost my dad, the one I’d dreamt about since I was a toddler. Healing has been a very difficult path and I can still be brought to tears at any moment. But I have learned from my shattering loss. I’ve learned that the thing you wish for with all your heart can indeed come into your life. And it can be better than you hoped. I learned that sometimes we are given something to show God cares about us and that even if we lose it, it wouldn’t mean God stopped caring. I’ve learned that when we are given a great blessing, we must truly appreciate it. I have a scar on my heart from the loss, but my heart itself is much bigger. I miss my daddy with all my heart. But I got to have 10 whole years with him, and nothing can take that away. I’ve learned to go on without my daddy, but I’ve learned to go on with gratitude and love. Thank you, Uncle Steve. You made my heart grow.

I have a hope and a dream for my future that often triggers raised eyebrows. Eyebrows stay down when someone says they want to be a lawyer. Or a doctor. Or an engineer. A teacher. Perhaps a therapist. But a performer? Heads turn, eyes stare, and eyebrows go up. Who wants to be a performer – and is that even achievable? Well, I do. I want to be a performer. Not to be different, but to be true to myself. I love performing for people and the fact that I feel most like myself when I perform – closest to my heart-and-soul identity – makes me believe I was given this gift for a reason. I’m passionate about performance because it does as much for me as it does for those watching me. I am in my element on the stage – and those watching me experience joy and excitement. I first started performing at a very young age, more on the acting and ballet side. This was before I discovered my talent for K-pop dance, hip-hop and contemporary dance. Yes, I’ve had my fair share of stage fright and forgetting words/choreography; yet performing is still one of the things I do best, and that brings me pure happiness. I know in my heart it is my future because even when I’m tired, sick, or simply don’t have time for it, it’s always on my mind. Come rain or shine, I’m ready to head to the dance studio or take a deep breath and step onto the stage. In all my passion though, I know enthusiasm alone is not enough. I need exposure to quality learning, I need to be around individuals able to train me, correct me, help me hone my talents and position me for lasting success. I want to learn every side of performing, much more than just being on stage. Something like a conductor who does not just read and conduct music with total precision, but also writes it beautifully, produces it, teaches it, creates a love for it and never stops exploring it. That makes them so much more than ‘the conductor’. Similarly, I want to be so much more than ‘the performer’ and that’s why going to college is a necessity for me. I need to understand as many aspects as possible of the music industry if I am to draw the most from it – and give the most to my future audiences. The Bright Lights Scholarship for a young black female like me makes me think of myself as a bright light. My full name, Khanyisile, in fact means ‘The one who brings light’ – a South African name from the tribe Nelson Mandela belonged to, the proud Xhosa tribe. The Bright Lights Scholarship draws me to it because it gives me the hope of being supported along this journey that sometimes feels scary, but I am never scared enough to lose my passion. I am so thankful for scholarships like this that give a young black woman a chance to reduce college costs and pursue her dream. It will help with an expense I have somewhere, and any way of reducing expenses is a blessing - especially as I am the child of a single mom and understand struggle. Yes, mine is an unusual dream. But to me, that just makes my future more beautiful. I am determined to stay true to my name and bring light wherever I go. That this scholarship is called Bright Lights, almost gives me a sense of victory already. Thank you...

My core values have largely been shaped by the fact I know what it is to be perceived as ‘lesser than’. I come from a single-parent family, and I am an only child. For years I observed my mom doing her best - sometimes blaming herself for being unable to give me what others had - but always, as though it was her most important job, doing everything to put a smile on my face and make me believe in myself. My mom also deliberately exposed me to people much worse off than me. If my community was tough, she showed me tougher communities. If my toys were old, she showed me children with no toys. If I felt down about the fact we lived in a tiny apartment, when some of my friends lived in lovely houses, she showed me homeless people who would have given anything just for a warm box to crawl into. She also exposed me to volunteering, and this profoundly impacted me. From the age of about 9, I did a lot of community service. I first made baked goods for children undergoing cancer treatment. That was quite something, because I had to appreciate the fact I was healthy and strong when others even younger than me were battling leukemia. I also for several years made sandwiches and warm meals for community sports teams, some of them made up of very disadvantaged children from underprivileged areas. These community sports teams would come running off the pitch and find peanut butter and jelly sandwiches waiting, yum! One of my best kinds of community service had nothing to do with people, but everything to do with love. For years I was involved in caring for sick, abandoned or abused animals. Volunteering at an animal shelter helped the animals because someone (me and other volunteers) came by regularly to feed them, clean their pens and give them love. And it helped me because it made me a dog or cat ‘owner’, even if for a short while. Additionally, I have entertained old age home residents with my school choir, and taught very young children art. Being a volunteer has made me kinder, braver, more patient and more determined to make a difference. It humbles me in the sense I just have to look at others in need, to appreciate my blessings - even if my blessings seem little to other people. My core values are good, solid values because I have been raised to think of others; to consider what they are going through and how they feel. All in all, what that means is that volunteering has made me a better person. I am studying visual and performing arts at college. I feel most like myself when I perform – closest to my heart-and-soul identity. I am in my element on the stage and those watching me experience a lot of joy too. There may be someone watching me who sees my joy when I perform, and they also feel inspired to tap into their own source of joy. There are people who only find escape in the creative arts – I can help provide that escape. I love performing because I get to do what I love while making other people happy at the same time. What more could I ask for but to feel joy while giving joy? Reflecting on this, I know my years of volunteer service didn’t only see me volunteer my time and resources. They led to me volunteering my heart, my soul and my passion.

I think two things inspire me to get involved in my community, and strangely enough they are somewhat in contrast to each other. The one is the fact I did not grow up privileged. The other is the fact I grew up privileged – when compared to others much worse off than me. To me, that means I must get involved because if I am not one part of the community, I am another part. Community work is a connector and helps us step outside of ourselves. When we look beyond our surroundings and see the very real needs out there, we put things in proper perspective. We take a different view of reality, we apply a ‘different ‘and often better solution. From the age of about 9, I did a lot of community service. I first made baked goods for children undergoing cancer treatment…it was quite difficult to go to a care center and see sick children and their parents, but on the flipside, I had to appreciate the fact I was healthy and strong, when others even younger than me were battling something as serious as cancer. Later, seeing their strength would help me deal with the incredibly painful loss of my uncle, who was my father figure. He passed away from cancer recently. I also for several years made sandwiches and warm meals for community sports teams, some of them made up of very disadvantaged children from underprivileged areas. These community sports teams would come running off the pitch and find peanut butter and jelly sandwiches waiting. The fact that I am sporty made me even more excited to help them – because no one knew better than me the appetite that develops after a game…sometimes during! One of my best kinds of community service had nothing to do with people, but everything to do with love. For years I was involved in caring for sick, abandoned or abused animals. I have a huge heart for animals, especially as I grew up in a small apartment with just my mother, and we could only have tiny animals like guinea pigs. Volunteering at an animal shelter helped the animals because someone (me and other volunteers) came by regularly to feed them, clean their pens and give them love. And it helped me because it made me a dog or cat ‘owner’, even if for a short while. Additionally, I have entertained old age home residents with my school choir, it was a wonderful experience. We were doing more than just singing; we were warming the hearts of people who were grandparents of sorts. I have also taught very young children art. I never get frustrated as I know someone there could be the next Picasso! I encourage the kids every time and tell them to just express themselves as I believe art can't really be right or wrong…you paint what you feel. I think the work I have done and continue to do, helps bring about change because it gives me a bigger heart. If I have a bigger heart, and the next person has a bigger heart, and the next person, and the next person…can you imagine the effect on the community? With big hearts, we will all care more, do more and be more. This is how we bring about change, by planting seeds of care into the lives of community members especially those less fortunate than us. I hope to make a difference until I am so old, I can only give instructions from my rocking chair 😊

Land of the free and home of the brave…for some. While I have a love for America, and the opportunities it is offering me to reach the highest highs, I keenly feel the reality of not being a US-citizen. I just open my mouth to speak, and there are stares and questions. I sometimes wear my ‘African Original’ sweater, and there are questions. I use an expression that is strange to American ears, and there are questions. I merely say my name - Khanyisile Mandisa Maleshoane Malumo - and there are questions. These questions sometimes build me up, and sometimes pull me down. I am sure I look like quite the fool when I am struggling to work out which way to look first to safely cross a road, because in South Africa we drive on the left so we look left first, as cars will be coming from that direction. One of my greatest struggles was realizing that even the way I was taught to play piano, was different. I started Spring semester at my college and found out I had all along been taught to sit a ‘wrong way’ and my hands were positioned ’the wrong way’. It was bewildering, especially as there was no question I was producing beautiful music when my hands touched the keys. But in the end, I had to accept I had been taught one way in Africa, and something totally different was expected of me in America. I also experienced what I could call, ‘silly struggles’. I missed my favorite cookies. I missed our version of beef jerky. I missed our traditional food. I missed how South Africans dance everywhere and anywhere. A plate of food can be brought to you, and the waiter is dancing, sometimes going backwards and whistling at the same time. I wondered if in America, that might possibly get you fired! But then in my quiet moments, I remind myself why I came to America in the first place. It wasn’t to escape a brutal regime, as some people do. It was to pursue my dream of being an entertainer. Where I’m from, entertainment is looked upon as being for those who are bound to fail at anything else. In America, it is a beautiful gift and talent to be maximized and shared with others. Music and culture are not just a ‘thing’ in America, they are something that is celebrated, recognized and rewarded. I came to America to receive the best instruction in visual and performing arts and I know I made the right decision. What’s more, I am excelling in my studies; it’s as though my soul and spirit are in agreement with my being educated in this great nation. I am determined to continue with my post-secondary education because I believe that with it, come many doors of opportunity. I even have the opportunity to one day make this great land my home. I can use my musical gift to make an impact and help heal the world of pain, for that is exactly what music does. With a college degree, I can step forward into my ‘next’ – and I know it will be an American next. This hasn’t been an easy transition, and I still have many bumps to get over. But I know I am in the right nation, pursuing the right dream, at the right time. My purpose will be realized here. With all the challenges I have experienced trying to settle in this strange but beautiful land, I know this is where my dreams will become reality.

I have known what it is to struggle, but I was raised to appreciate what I do have. I come from a single-parent family, and I am an only child. My mother is my mother, and my mother is also my father. I have observed her doing her best - sometimes blaming herself for being unable to give me what others had - but always, as though it is her most important job, doing everything to make me believe in myself. My mother also deliberately exposed me to those much worse off than me. If my community was tough, she showed me tougher communities. If the toys I had were old, she showed me kids with no toys. If I felt down about the fact we were in a tiny apartment, when some of my friends lived in lovely houses, she showed me homeless people who would have given anything just for a warm box to crawl into. Volunteering profoundly impacted my worldview. From the age of about 9, I did a lot of community service and volunteer work. I first made baked goods for children undergoing cancer treatment, a humbling experience, because I had something they would have given anything for - health. One of my best kinds of volunteer service involved caring for sick, abandoned or abused animals. I have a huge love for animals, especially as in our small apartment, animals weren't allowed. Volunteering at an animal shelter helped the animals as much as it helped me. It made me a dog or cat ‘owner’, even if for a short while, and it made the animals experience my unconditional love and care, even if for a short while. Even though I found many ways to be happy, I knew Mom and I were 'different'. Our home was much smaller, our car, when we had one, was much smaller, and my lunch money was much less. But right alongside that awareness, I recognized what opportunity looks like. I came to understand it can be created. I saw that there were things I had, that others couldn’t buy. I had great athleticism, and I had the discipline to work at it every single day. That discipline and athleticism saw me become the team captain in three separate sporting disciplines and win numerous sporting awards. I also had the ability to draw people to me not with what I could buy them, but with how I could make them feel. I knew how to make people feel loved and accepted. I knew how to entertain them, being a great dancer and great storyteller. And I knew how to make them laugh - in other words to give them the best medicine. As I step into young adulthood, I am determined to keep making a difference. For as long as there is breath and strength in me, I can still volunteer. For as long as I remember that opportunity does not necessarily target wealthy people, I can be optimistic about chasing it relentlessly. For as long as I remember that there will always be people much worse off than me, I can be thankful for what do have and literally count my blessings. I am now in college and it is a major financial stretch for me and my mom, but I am here. We remain hopeful for assistance to keep me in college, always remembering that as we wait for help, we ourselves should help others. It's how I was raised, and it is what I will always believe. While I wait for help, I will be here, helping others.

The support I've had on my educational journey doesn't just make me happy, it makes me emotional. Certain people immediately come to mind. There is my late Uncle Steve, who was my father figure and was UVA and Tulane-educated. A truly amazing person. Although I have lost him, I still carry his love of learning and finding joy in playing basketball. Then, there are my maternal grandparents, with their endless stream of supportive words and gestures, which make me feel I can achieve anything. And then there is my mother. Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, Mom never asked me to be who I am not. I am far stronger in the arts than the sciences – and to her this was a beautiful thing, not a thing of concern. She also steered me in directions I would not have gone myself, because, being my mother, her soul almost kind of knew what mine would take to. She encouraged me to explore my love of dance, and now people are mesmerized when I dance. She suggested I study languages, and I discovered I had a flair for French, German and Korean. This has made me want to learn more languages, so these now form part of my educational goals too. My mom's support has made me realize the world really is not made up of scientists and mathematicians. The world needs arty people like me. Can you imagine a world of just mathematicians, or a store with just baked beans? Arty and creative souls provide color, which is just what the world needs. Math brings many things to life, but not color. I now know I must celebrate my colorful creativity and artistic flair. I need to do so for me - but it almost seems the world also needs me to do so, so that I can be the best version of me. My educational goals - excellence, focus and sacrifice in the name of my desired career in music performance - give me such a sense of purpose. I am not just at college to learn, I'm there to deepen my hunger to succeed. And that’s where my mom is my anchor. When the world wants me to doubt myself, when schoolwork is heavy and the tears are near because project deadlines are even nearer, I know I can call my mother. The encouragement she gives me will make me submit that assignment on time. I will write out my theory on time, I’ll perform in the ensemble perfectly, and I'll play Chopin better and better each time. My mom has especially helped me in two areas I really struggled in – making comparisons with others, and making excuses. She helped me see that comparisons erode self-appreciation. And she told me that if you keep making excuses, you will eventually excuse yourself right out of your destiny. Excuses end dreams, she says. My educational path has never had anything constant about it – there have been ups and downs, left turns and right turns. But by the same token, there has indeed been a constant all along. My mom. Because of her, having educational goals means so much more than ‘school’ to me. It means purpose, opportunity, passion, and the exploration of endlessly exciting possibilities. Thank you Mummy, that as I go forward into adulthood, I know that my goals may not look exactly like other people’s - but they are exactly right for me.

There are two things I believe have greatly shaped the young woman I am today. The first was accepting my realities as a black child of a single mother. Earlier in life, special events like Father’s Day at school came with great shame. But over time I realized my living situation wasn't that different. I ate, bathed, and slept. I cried, danced, and laughed. I had help with my homework and did chores. Just like other kids. By age 12 I knew that unless a father was loving, present, and protective, there was no advantage his children had. And then came the second factor that would shape who I am today. I began to explore my relationship with education. I realized that education, and the diligence that comes with it, can almost parent you - if you will allow it to. I researched some of the most inspiring things ever said about education and came upon my favorite ever, by Nelson Mandela: “Education is the great engine of personal development. It is through education that the daughter of a peasant can become a doctor, that the son of a mineworker can become the head of the mine, that a child of farm workers can become the president of a great nation. It is what we make out of what we have, not what we are given, that separates one person from another.” I then began to ask myself, how can I use education as my great engine of personal development? I thought about whether that meant I should be a teacher and realized that no, that is not what Mr Mandela was saying. He was saying we should deeply value and prioritize education, because in it lies such freedom, and the realization of so many dreams. I knew that education, with all the hard work and sometimes tears it brought, would help me identify my way in life, whatever that way was. So, I applied myself and studied hard, knowing the answers would come. I wanted to identify my talents, the real gifts God gave me, which I felt would be the ones He wanted me to use to His glory. At first, I thought the ‘gift’ would be math. Or history, or French. It was none of those. It was the uncovering of my real self, the performer. I blossomed as an actress at school, which made me love the stage. From loving acting on the stage, I then began to dance on the stage and play piano on the stage. And that’s how I uncovered who I am supposed to be. A performer. And so I went to the right college for me, to study musicology. Education, by making me explore who I really was and what I could really do, identified what I call the name tag on my soul, which is ‘Performer’. How will I use this gift and positively impact the world? I want to use the arts to help awaken people deep inside. To give them a soundtrack to their lives. As a performer, I want to take the beauty of music and its accompanying expressions such as dance, and show the world it is ok to be yourself and love yourself. I want people to see my joy on stage and be inspired to unearth whatever it is that brings them joy. It could be the joy of teaching - or the joy of science, cooking, or engineering. Whatever their joy is, I want to help them find it. And I know they will, when they see I have found mine.

Volunteer work helps us step outside of ourselves. It does this by changing our worldview and pulling us away from excessive focus on all the things we feel are wrong with our world or our personal circumstances. When we do this, we put things in proper perspective and because we take a different view of reality, we apply a different and often better solution. From the age of about 9, I did a lot of community service and volunteer work. I baked for children undergoing cancer treatment. Visiting them made me deeply appreciate the fact I was healthy and strong, when others even younger than me were battling cancer. I also made sandwiches for community sports teams. The players would come running off the pitch and find peanut butter and jelly sandwiches waiting. Being a very sporty person myself, I knew the appetite that sets in after an intense match…sometimes during! I have a huge heart for animals, especially as I grew up in a small apartment with just my mom, and we could only have tiny animals like guinea pigs. Volunteering at an animal shelter helped the animals as much as it helped me. It helped them because someone (me and other volunteers) came by regularly to feed them, clean their pens and give them love. It helped me because I would be able to play with several animals when I went to do volunteer service. I could be a dog or cat ‘owner’, even if for a short while, and the animals could experience my unconditional love, even if for a short while. Animals are also very healing for me…I felt sad reading about Lauren taking her life, as I know what it is to be in a dark place. I am so sad she could not climb out of what she felt was a hole. Additionally, I have entertained old age home residents with my school choir, given free dance lessons, and taught toddlers art. I never get frustrated as I know someone there could be the next Picasso! As mentioned, I am a committed sportswoman. I am blessed genetically, but hard work has also been my blessing. The early mornings on the pitch, the ‘agony and ecstasy’ of the competitive environment, the discipline needed to still get schoolwork done. My need for this scholarship is very real. Every cent will go directly to my tuition fees because I cannot and will not compromise on my education. I’m sitting at a 3.7 GPA, and yet this is not ‘enough’ for me, because of my sporty background. Sports has made me driven, it has made me want to explore how I can do better, because often victory lies in the ‘better’ category, and only there. I am a minority student from a single-parent family and it has hurt me the times my momr has worked two or three jobs. Never saying she minds, but how could I not see her weariness and her guilt at leaving me home alone when she would prefer to be with me? Now I have gotten into college, and I cannot pay her back financially but want to pay her back with a priceless photograph. Of me in my graduation gown in 2026. No better gift can I give her…but I need to be able to stay in school to help that picture literally develop. I would be so grateful for the Lauren Czebatul Scholarship, and will always remember to myself help people as I go through life. Which I already know how to do, thanks to volunteer work.

I’ve learned one thing as I’ve grown up, which is there is so much more to the words ‘no (wo)man is an island’. We really are built up when we build others up. Volunteer and philanthropic work help us step outside of ourselves, by changing our worldview and pulling us away from excessive focus on all the things we feel are wrong with our world or our circumstances. When we do this, we put things in proper perspective and because we take a different view of reality, we apply a different and often better solution. From the age of about 9, I did a lot of community service and volunteer work. I started off by making baked goods for children undergoing cancer treatment…it was quite difficult to go to a care center and see sick children and their parents, but on the flipside I had to appreciate the fact I was healthy and strong, when others even younger than me were battling something as serious as cancer. I also for several years made sandwiches and warm meals for community sports teams, some of them made up of very disadvantaged children from underprivileged areas. These community sports teams would come running off the pitch and find peanut butter and jelly sandwiches waiting, or a big pot of spaghetti and a big pot of mince, for a proper lunch. My mom helped me cook and the whole experience got me into cooking. I have a huge heart for animals, especially as I grew up in a small apartment with just Mom, and we could only have tiny animals like guinea pigs. Volunteering at an animal shelter helped the animals as much as it helped me. It helped them because someone (me and other volunteers) came by regularly to feed them, clean their pens and give them love. It helped me because where I lived was too small for a dog or cat – but then I would be able to play with several animals when I went to do volunteer service. It made me a dog or cat ‘owner’, even if for a short while, and it made the animals experience my unconditional love, affection and care, even if for a short while. Additionally, I have entertained old age home residents with my school choir, it was wonderful to see them enjoying the company of young people and swaying to our music, though some of them had limited mobility. We were doing more than just singing; we were warming the hearts of people who were grandparents of sorts. I have also taught very young children art. I never get frustrated as I know someone there could be the next Picasso! I encourage the kids every time and tell them to just express themselves as I believe art cannot really be right or wrong…you paint what you feel. Lastly, as I am a very good dancer, I also give free K-pop and hip-hop dance lessons in my spare time. Music and dance have helped me so much with depression and finding my way in life as a young person. Altogether, I find great satisfaction in helping others and have seen that it truly deepens my own sense of self. In conclusion, I know I can never step away from volunteer work. There will always be a need, and I will always be willing. It is something I have done from an early age, and to not volunteer would somehow make my world less relevant. Being there for others just has a way of making life that much more relevant...

Disney is a concept I grew up with and continue to engage with even now as a college student. I had ‘friends’ ranging from Tinker Bell, to Simba, to Smurfette, through to The Incredibles. I explored with fascination every aspect of their lives and learned to appreciate that even characters with superpowers, or extra advantages of some sort like being an heir to a throne (what could top that?), could experience tough times and heartache. What I saw as I grew older and read into the characters and storylines more deeply, is that there is always something to admire in any Disney movie. That’s probably why my all-time favorite Disney character is Mulan. I love her because she is brave and goes out of her way to put herself in a situation that does not follow the norms of her society. She does this because it speaks to who she is and what she stands for. Her character, her choices, her conviction - everything about her - prove that she and indeed anyone can achieve their heart’s desires as long as they put in the hard work and believe in themselves. Even today, I think that same message she once showed me when I was a young 7-year-old girl is still (possibly more) relevant in my life. I now find myself also having to stand up to doubt and naysaying, stereotypes and assumptions. It comes down, as it did for her, to what I believe in and whether I will stand for it even in the face of resistance. That’s what I love so much about Disney. The films they produce and the stories they tell through their characters can still be relatable later on in one’s life. Alongside that, a lot of the lessons learned aren’t necessarily “lessons for kids”. Disney is a family concept. While the content is essentially packaged for children, it also has meaning for teenagers and parents, anyone else in the family. I remember watching the Heffalump movie many times over, and eventually picking up on the subliminal message about how one can be ostracized and judged just for looking different. I also remember my single mom – it’s been just the two of us all my life – pointing out to me that Roo’s mum in the Pooh Bear movies was a single mum and that she and Roo were a happy, loving, secure family even though it was just the two of them. This helped me realize I was just as special as anyone else, even with no father at home. And Disney is the reason behind my first ‘movie night giggle’, as my mom tells me. She says I was about eight months old, and she’d put me in my high chair as she prepared my dinner nearby. To keep me occupied she had the TV on. She says she heard me chuckling, and when she looked up she saw what was making me so merry. It was the very famous footage of Mickey Mouse in ‘Steamboat Willie’, steering the tugboat, whistling away and doing the best wiggly dance ever done. The hips didn't lie. That footage is from 1928 – it will soon be 100 years old. Disney was the reason for my first screen-inspired giggle...our special relationship goes back to before I could even walk. So as you see there is so much I love about Disney, but one thing stands out in particular. It teaches not childhood lessons, but life lessons, through messaging that penetrates far beyond one’s youth. It is so much more than entertainment.

I grew up in a big, big world, with only my brave, brave mother... Living with just my mom - and I am an only child - has affected me differently over the years, depending what stage of life I was at. As a child, special events like Father’s Day at school came with great discomfort and when I was really small, confusion and shame. I did have a father, out there somewhere. Knowing he was out there made me go between leaning heavily into my mother because she was my everything, and pulling away from her because she wasn't my father. But in my calmer moments, I’d see that my living situation wasn't that different. I ate, bathed and slept. I watched Peppa Pig and High School Musical. I cried, I danced and I laughed. I had help with my homework, fed my pet and did chores. Only Father's Day ever really affected me. Then, there’d be something that felt like a hot cloud all over me, uncomfortable and oppressive. It's strange how something that is NOT there - a father - can be so 'present' in his absence. Presence, in absence. As much as I did sometimes feel “different” from the rest, my mother took excellent care of me. It wasn’t visible that I was living in a single-parent household. I still took part in many school activities, maybe even more than my friends. I went on all the school field trips - one signature from a parent or guardian was enough - and still received as much love from my one parent as my friends received from their two. Father's Day was exactly that – it was for those who had fathers. I had a mother and Mother's Day was and remains one of the most special days of the year to me. Going into high school, I completely let go of the fact that I fell into the “kids who grew up with single parents” category. Again, I was no different from the kid next to me in, say, Physics or French class. We both failed assignments and passed others with flying colors. Teachers yelled at me, and they yelled at Josh who had both a mom and a dad. My being strong and confident however seemed to give me an apparent “mysterious” vibe. The vibe was my strength, which was like a hum within me that people could almost hear. That hum sent the message that I wasn’t weak and cowardly. I was not lesser than. And I still have that hum. By my late teens, I knew and had seen that unless a father was loving, present, strong and protective, there was no advantage his children had. I'm now a college freshman and still, my mom takes such good care of me. We have such a good relationship, people believe I’ve never had any family issues. Those who perhaps regarded my father's absence as an issue, over the years came to define it as a circumstance - and there is a huge difference between issue and circumstance. How has this journey shaped me? I have redefined 'normal'. I have redefined the word 'family'. I have redefined 'security', and I have redefined 'favor'. I’m glad I don’t present myself as weak or unhappy. I’m genuinely happy and magnetic. Raised by one parent, yet magnetic. I love my mom and wouldn’t change my childhood for anything. It helped me become the person I am today. I love this current me - a strong, courageous, creative, sparkly, world-conquering Khanyi. Raised by just her mother.

My name is Khanyi, and Mohamed’s story deeply inspires me as he was from Africa as I am. He was passionate about making a difference like I am. My strength and purpose, which I sometimes refer to as my social calling, is my ability to lift up people who are down. When I notice my friends or family members are down, I am the one able to reach past their barriers and access their hurts in a safe, nurturing, non-judgmental way. I comfort them and encourage them to keep going. If their angst is related to their dreams and passions, I remind them why they decided to chase the dream in the first place. We sometimes lose our way in life because we are waylaid or ambushed by life itself. Reality interrupts the very reality we wish to create. When circumstance comes and starts its habit of screaming loudly in our ears, our dreams are sometimes drowned out. We are steamrolled by something we in fact can have mastery over. When people can change their thinking, they can change their whole world. I once read that it’s not falling into water that cause you to down, it’s staying there. No road is forever straight, it dips and turns, much like no body of water is perpetually still. The future has a way of looking tough and intimidating, only because it is an unknown. I have a big dream for myself, one that involves being iconic in the arts. Though many people don’t believe I’ll achieve it, just a young girl from Africa, my mother always told me that as long as I myself believe in it and act on it tirelessly, that’s what matters most. I remind people that the past should be a reminder of where you once were and the progress you’ve made since then. From there, it should serve as a driving force to push you towards a promising future. My passion and hard work towards my dream is already an inspiration to many as I show constant perseverance and commitment to hard work. And I believe that once I achieve it, it will inspire many more people. Mohamed stood for so many good and noble things, but most importantly he shared himself with the world, courageously. That is what made him an ‘up-stander’. I too am an ‘up-stander’ because I stand up for weaker people, fearful people, downtrodden people. It could be people I know well, or introverted students at school. I believe that inside of everyone is a candle and that all it needs to burn brighter is fresh air. I inspire people and want to continue doing so by gently blowing on their candle – not to put it out, but to help it glow brighter. With my voice and my ability to strengthen those around me one person at a time, I can make a difference in my community. I can inspire people to access the stronger parts of themselves they may not even know they have. Fear, sometimes called False Evidence Appearing Real, is one of the greatest reasons the graveyard is described as the richest place on earth. So many dreams lie hidden there, dreams that were not reached for because people felt scared, intimidated, inadequate or undeserving. I am an up-stander who wants her impact to be felt for generations to come. Mohamed is not here anymore, yet he has greatly inspired me to do and be more. I too want my impact to be felt for years to come.

I remember my first night in Boston. It was the day before I needed to check into my student residence and I looked over at my sleeping mother in the tiny air b n b we had rented for the night. How was I going to stay in this strange land, while my mother - my anchor - returned to South Africa, the only home I have ever known? How was I going to cope without familiar sights and sounds, familiar smells, familiar food, my familiar Africa? My name is Khanyisile, and it means 'The one who brings light'. I am here to do that. I’m a student at the Berklee College of Music and I have faced much in the few months I have been here, yet overcome much. Having to explain my ‘strange’ accent, dealing with looking around and not seeing one friend…when I called home so lonely and spoke to my mother, she said I would find a friend by being friendly. A few months in I have learnt that as a foreigner, the right people will love me without needing to be ‘convinced’. I now know that my uniqueness as a South African student studying at the world’s premier music college is not weird, it is wonderful. My African accent is not bizarre, it is captivating. My talent as a young lady from ‘the dark continent’ is not unusual, it is celebratory. My continent is the birthplace of rhythm, so I am in my rights to be at an incredible music college. My journey is only a few months in, but my learnings are long and deep. I am so careful with money, sometimes I count pennies twice. Joy is not found in things that cost, but in things of substance. Am I saying I have no challenges? Ofcourse not. I worry about overcoming stigmatisation. I worry about understanding 'the American way'. I worry about doing right by Mama back home. My father walked out of our lives the minute he heard I was in my mother’s womb. It’s been just her and I for 20 years, and for me to now be in college here is a dream come true. Yet I feel distress, because I know back home Mama is working day and night to keep me here. I have averaged 93% across all my assignments this semester – Mama says that’s all the reward she needs but I ask God day and night to bless us with a financial miracle. Already it is a miracle I am here, so how can I not believe for further miracles? This journey has grown my faith, strengthened my courage and disciplined my mind. I am not here just to do well for myself, I am here to do well for the immigrant population, for black women, for Africa. When you are the ‘stranger’ – you should continue to celebrate yourself and claim your spot in the limelight. I can learn from Americans but I also have a lot to teach them. I arrived here wanting to be Nina Simone, but now I want to be more of Khanyi. I arrived just wanting to play piano, now I want to create a soundtrack to my entire life. I want to tell stories through music. Being away from home has made me love my uniqueness more. I don’t need to be anyone else; I can continue to be the proud young African queen I am. I want to be the female foreign student who shone brighter than a star over the Kalahari Desert in a dark clear sky…

I dream of being she who through a life of creative excellence, selfless service, bold manoeuvres and sheer 'joie de vivre', births dreams in others.